As my alarm begun to ring for my 6am morning routine, all of the night before came flooding back – my tireless night orgasming to Sir’s commands on Whatsapp. For a few months, I’d been speaking with a London businessman who I met on a work night out. My colleague pointed him out at the bar, snapping my neck to catch him undressing me with his eyes, his piercing blue eyes taking in my pert bum in my well fitting LBD. I’d opted for my 6″ heels, knowing I would become the centre of attention in any club.

In the past few weeks, our late night conversations had become deep, meaningful and powerfully sexy, words exchanging moreso than images or videos and the voice notes he would send drove me crazy and restless. Hearing Sir’s voice made me long for his hard throbbing cock, something I had to wait for.

My morning routine is my ritual and has been for the seven years I’ve worked in law; first stepping into a painfully hot shower, running my hands all over my hard nipples until I reached my clit, always climaxing before stepping out of the shower and saving myself for my evenings alone.

As I sit on the edge of the bed and dry my long flowing hair, I’m wondering what outfit to wear to work today, I’m always keen to give the men around me something to think about when they travel home each night to their miserable lives. Sir had particularly mentioned he has an adorning lust for stockings and tights so I plan dress this morning with him in mind.

The built in wardrobe in this apartment houses the sort of lingerie men long for their girlfriends and wives to wear, the vast array of colours, the lace panties, the halterneck bustiers and of course my toy drawer. Sir hasn’t seen what I play with when I think of him, he’s only heard my screams as I moan down the phone as I come for him, wave after wave of orgasms erupting through my pulsing body and clit.

That morning, I opt for my patterned black tights, gently rolling them up my legs, raising each and pointing for the sky as I do so, feeling the sheer nylon run up my smooth shaved legs. I have a drawer for stockings but Sir mentioned how much he wants to pin me down and rip a hole in my tights to fuck me through so I dress to that wish.

If you’ve not gathered by now, if you’ve been too transfixed on the little details, the wardrobe, the shower routine, the black nylons pulled tightly around my hips… you’ll have noticed I’ve decided not to wear any panties today, for Sir longs for access to a soaking wet, dripping tasteful pussy once he’s ripped that hole.

I walk over to my tall chest of drawers, searching for the right bra for the day ahead, desiring something sexy and naughty that only I know I’m wearing. Sir might even get a photo as I’m getting dressed, only the top half though, just in time for his first meeting of the day.

Oh Sir does work so hard, he’s going to be exhausted when we finally meet again. Today I’m choosing my cleavage boosting black lace canlı bahis bra, the only way to truly showcase my 32E chest for the boys at work.

I think a short black skirt and black blouse will finish this outfit, conscious that I must leave soon to be ready, for my routine relies on dominating the office environment as I walk in at 9:02 like I have done every day for the past seven years.

I despise public transport, the smells, the delays, the sounds… The only way I’m going to achieve my flawless entrance today is by driving myself, somewhat tricky but exhilarating in the stiletto heels I slipped on before leaving.

As I strut through the hallway downstairs, I catch the concierge, out of the corner of my eye, staring at my nylon clad legs, seemingly passing each other in slow motion, the only sound gracing the marble flooring being the dominating click of my 6 inch heels.

Work has been going slowly today, my team are fairly new and seem more interesting in the cheap hookers they can get on their new salaries, not knowing the power they could experience within these four walls should they look before their very eyes.

Sir has been sending me messages little and often today, reminding me he’s there but demonstrating how busy and hard working he is, the most attractive quality in a real man. I’ve been teasing him too though, a slow motion video of me re applying my lipstick in the work bathrooms, a shot of my legs crossed, heels chasing the carpet under my desk and one which I’ll make him wait for, the birds eye view of my huge firm breasts as I type at my manager’s desk, knowing he’d kill to lock us in that room and make love to me for the first time.

As I leave and walk out to my car, my phone rings. Sir has never phoned, he doesn’t allow me to phone him during work, he wants me to be his submissive, giving my all for him, devoting my body and inner desires for him exclusively. As I contemplate how to answer, I can already feel my clit tingling, any mention of Sir and I gag to be under his spell, orgasming over and over.

As I slide the screen to accept his call, he pauses – before telling me his address and demanding that I’m at his door for 7pm. Shit, it’s only an hour away from now, I’m finally going to get my time with Sir, my chance to please him and submit to him. I race to his, glad in knowing I dressed with him in mind, anxiously preparing myself mentally for tonight and the hours of pleasure we’ll inflict on each other, for little does he know my plan to dominate him.

I have had a sweeping desire to show him who’s the real boss of the boardroom, picturing his face as I throw him into that designer armchair he no doubt has. He’s a powerful owner of our biggest rival, I know he’ll have that chair poised to look out over the London skyline from his penthouse apartment, I can see it now, and can already picture how I’m going to pleasure him in it.

Floor 26, he’s on floor 26 I remind myself bahis siteleri as I clutch my bag in the lift, tapping my heels against the rear wall of the lift, until the doors open and I tell myself this is it, I’m ready for Sir, I’m ready to feel his cock for the first time, to be taken and to be owned and consumed by his manner and power.

In just six strides, I come face to face with his apartment door, knocking gently as I bite my lip and hike my skirt up just that extra inch for our first sexual encounter. The door slowly opens, just ajar and the sound of his favourite artist lulls me into the space, the sensual lyrics almost sung in time to my steps, my body in sync with the environment around me.

Before me is the most stunning view, mesmerising my green eyes, and along it, as I expected – Sir is in a designer armchair, swivelling round slowly to reveal himself in his gorgeous black Boss suit, the one he wore when we met, the one I’ve dreamed of carefully tearing from his young and groomed body in this very moment.

“Our drinks” he exclaims, in his almost aged, throaty voice, as I realise our two glasses are next to me, already half filled with his favourite whisky, the same as the one in the glass he cradled when he saw me in that bar, firmly running his finger around the rim of the tumbler as he took me in.

I take this opportunity to show Sir that I’ve dressed for him, bending over slowly and seductively to collect the two glasses, one in each hand, as I walk over to him, my arms kinked at the elbow, glasses held in line with my chest, giving Sir the finest view of the moment, his stunning lady teetering over to him in her high heels and office outfit, with little left to the imagination.

As I bend over to place our glasses beside Sir, he grabs my bum with both hands, wrapping his hands around my body, pulling me in closer. I can smell his cologne, the Tom Ford Oud I picked up on him when we met, the scent transporting me back to his first sight of me and fast forwarding through the sleepless nights of remote sexual torture and torment ever since, right up to this moment.

I take a step back, pushing my hair out of the way and slowly placing my hands at the top of his thighs, running them up and down slowly, feeling the beautiful quality of that Boss suit, slowly digging my crimson nails into it and feeling his body begin to react to this silent moment. I gently kneel, placing my legs wide apart, feeling the gusset of my tights pull taught against my bare clit, the feeling along sends shivers through my body, the first time I will feel this way tonight but my god, by Sir’s mercy, not the last.

Sir knows what to expect, he has openly invited me to his chair wanting to see and feel me please him after his long, tough, stressful day, as I look up into his eyes, it’s so evident, it’s so plain and clear he’s thought this through amongst all the teasing we’ve done by text. I see now in his eyes, he’s bahis şirketleri sat here those evenings gently stroking his hard cock, wishing for my hands to grace its girth and length.

I’ve already teased Sir today though, this time there’s all the reason to show him how much I’ve missed him as I slowly undo his belt, one hand still running along his thigh, coursing the inside of it now and pausing around his cock, before running back down to his knee. I lean up briefly, to whisper how wet I’m already feeling, then proceed to begin my deed, undoing his suit trousers and slowly easing his trousers down to his knees, revealing his black Calvin Klein boxers, with a prisoner in custody, just itching to be released for his good behaviour.

I run my fingers around the waistband, letting go at times and pinching him at others before commanding Sir to pull them down to release the beast I’ve been yearning for. As he does so, I waste no time in showing him how much I’ve missed him, he’s clearly expecting me to go slow, to warm him up and tease him but I’m hungry for that cock, its image imprinted on my mind, imprinted on my soul and every movement.

I wrap my hands around his thighs and waste no time in running my tongue around the head, feeling the precum grace my lips and tongue, Sir leans back sharply and bites his lip, the perfect opportunity for me to devour his whole cock in one attempt.

I’m a deepthroater, I’m not a whore, I’m his submissive tonight and I take his whole cock in my throat, feeling it begin to gag me but holding it there, it’s enormous length pulsating in my throat for seconds, and seconds and seconds. Then I come up, keen to see Sir’s face, he looks at me spellbound, absolutely speechless and eyes gazing wide at my slightly smeared red lipstick.

This time I tease slightly, swirling my tongue round the head first, then gripping his cock firmly, running my tongue up and down his gorgeous shaft, before taking him all again, hoping he takes the control and does what we’ve both dreamed of. As I bob on his cock, he does just that, I feel his fingers run through my hair before grabbing my head and bringing it up until my eyes lock with his.

Sir’s only words are spoken with silence, the look in his eye telling me what I need to know, as he slams my head down hard on his cock, beginning to throat fuck me, beginning to dominate me and my body, beginning to thrust his huge pole down my throat, face fucking me until my mascara begins to run, the ultimate goal in my books.

He continues as I struggle to breathe, slamming his meat into my abused throat, I can feel his body tense after what seemed like hours. I take this chance to tap him and point to my skirt, showing him that I’ve been rubbing my wet clit through my tights during this whole moment.

With that, I feel his body and cock go to the next level before his cock hardens even more and begins throbbing in my throat, his delicious cum flooding my throat and stomach, I’m keen not to let it go to waste and beg him, with what little I can say, to hold my head down even deeper as he cums, wanting to savour the taste of all of Sir’s gorgeous cum.

End of Part One.