Page 11 of Beg Me
I grab my phone and text her during one of my many meetings. I can’t help myself. It’s not like I need to pay attention at these things anyway.
“Hey there, sweetie-pie.”
I wait for that buzzing feeling, and it comes almost five minutes later. Not too quick. Not too slow either. Just the way I like it.
Her text back:
“Hey there, creep. What are you up to?”
Creep. Her favorite word.
Was it creepy when she told me to pull my cock out in plain sight?
Okay, I guess I started that. Still, she loved every second. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have responded.
It was fucking hot.
I grin and respond:
“Just thinking about your face. I really want to know what it looks like before you get fucked.”
I catch a glimpse of the ellipses. She’s typing back.
“It’s expressionless. Unfortunately, I’m one of those gals who
just lays there the entire time.”
I rack my thumbs against the screen.
“Somehow I doubt that. I have a feeling you’re one of those loud women. You know, the kind that roar and scream the whole time.”
I wait for her response like a hungry lap dog.
“You got me pinned, don’t you?”
I laugh, and one of my workers glares. I point to my phone and mouth the words, “bank statement.”
He turns back to the presentation.
I’m just a figurehead here at this point. I’m the guy that runs things when shit hits the fan. My team takes care of the rest.
Reaching into my suit pocket, I feel that soft cotton between my fingers. Madison’s panties. I pull my hand from my pocket. Her perfume clings to my fingers.
My cheeks turn warm, and I’m forced to adjust my seat as my cock rises beneath the table.
I respond.
“I have your panties with me.”
She’s typing again.
“At work? Are you crazy?”
I glance up to see if anyone is looking. This woman is driving me crazy.
“I think we need to meet again.”
The meeting is nearly finished. Thank the lord.
