Mr. Masters (Mr. 1)

I just want to drop to my knees in front of him and take the job off of his hands… literally.

His strokes get harder, faster, and I feel as though I’m going to come, too.

I can feel how aroused he is, feel how good his cock would feel if it was inside me. He lets out a deep moan as he lets his head fall back, and I find myself holding my breath.

What are you doing? Leave! Leave now before he sees you.

His eyes flash up, and he falters as he sees me.

Our eyes lock, but something happens, and as if knowing how much I need to see this, he slowly strokes himself again.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

Fuck, yeah.

I begin to pant.

He starts again with long strokes, and I can hardly keep myself standing up.

This is ridiculous, but I can’t make myself leave.

He gets harder and harder, and my mouth hangs open as I watch his dick with anticipation. His dark eyes are locked on mine when he shudders and comes in a rush up onto his stomach.

The moan he lets out echoes all around me, and I begin to pant as I struggle for air. His semen is thick and white—perfect—and as an added bonus, he watches my reaction as he smears it across his stomach and chest.

I have no words.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck?

With my chest rising and falling, my eyes meet his again, and I watch as satisfaction crosses his face. “Good evening, Miss Brielle,” he whispers sexily as he continues to rub his semen in, his stomach glistening. I feel my insides clench. “We meet in my bathroom once again.”

My eyes widen. I don’t know what to say. What can possibly explain what I just saw?

What I just did…

What he just did.

So, I turn and I run.

Chapter Eight

I sit at the café’s table with a cup of coffee in my hands, and I stare through the window at the people on the streets as they casually wander to and fro.

How the fuck did I get myself in this situation?

I watched my boss jack off, and then I ran away like a scared little girl after I’d been flirting with him and asking for satisfaction.

It’s just embarrassing. But in my defense, that dick looked very angry, and I’m not quite sure I could have handled it anyway.

I get a vision of his face as he ejaculated, and my insides clench in appreciation. He’s so hot, it’s just ridiculous.

God, imagine fucking him.

I get tingles to my toes and wiggle on my chair to try and relieve the pressure between my legs. I’ve been dripping wet since 1:00 a.m. this morning.

What I wouldn’t give to see what he’s got to offer.

My email pings and I pick up my phone, smiling when I see the name.