Wear miniskirt make the sensation feel as good if not better than bare skin. Slowly you work your way up between my legs, every stroke building the heat radiating from me. My cheeks begin to blush, trying to keep up with the conversation surrounding.
You look over at me with devilish glance, knowing I am at your mercy at this point and grip me by the thigh. Leaning in you whisper to me: “Can you be a good girl and keep quiet or do we need to go to my office?”
The scenarios swirl around in my head. How far am I wanting to take this? Would I need to keep doing it? I am legitimately turn on but I still can’t actually look at you and maintain. Am I too drunk to make this decision? What to do. Finally, I let out a mute: “I don’t even know” trying not to let on that I am squirming inside. You give me another sly smile before responding: “Just keep quiet while I finish my drink and then meet me in my office when you see me slip out”.
“Ok” I respond, I don’t have time to think before the grasp on my thigh move up and slowly between my legs. If the sensation on my leg is amazing this is absolutely heavenly. It is as if every stroke is intensify by the pressure of the tights against me. You can tell too; you watch as my squirming intensify and with every squirm your fingertip meet about my clit and rub slowly but with matching intensity.
I look to you for mercy but is meet with nothing but another smile before you look away to join another conversation. You really are going to just look away and rub me until I come in front of the whole staff. I bite my lip, try desperately to nod along with the nearest conversation but it is all I can do to not audibly moan out. I look shamefully away from you, feeling my cheeks blush even more. I let out a tiny whimper as I feel a gush of fluid fill my panties and my legs tremble.
Finally, you look back over at me smiling, evidently quite please with yourself for turning the tables. With no sense of shame at all, you pick up you napkin and wipe at your lips to dab the last sip of your drink, but not before smelling your fingers just a bit. “Don’t forget to meet me in my office. We can’t let you have all the fun now, can we?” you say.
“As if you don’t have any fun with that” I whisper to myself, still looking down in shame.
