Composure
Good morning my corporate slut,
I enjoy spying on your in your little protective bubble of the “corporate world.”
Being a consultant makes it very convenient. I can attend these very serious meetings and sit across the room from you, watch you, think incredibly inappropriate things and no one would know.
It’s all official business. I can even call the meeting, you know. With one quick phone call and a stated “potential community problem” I could have the top executives of your company all lined up in the conference room, and have my team present a long list of “what ifs,” just so I can stare across the conference room table and imagine you on all fours sucking my cock.
What is it about taking you from these conservative, professional scenarios and turning you into a total whore for me? Why are the fantasies so much hotter when I observe you in your – how shall I say – “natural environment”?
When I see you sitting there in your suit, looking so professional and so strong, so manly and commanding, I have trouble sometimes imagining that you are the same little whore who wears tight pink panties for me, looks awesome in thigh high stockings, and will beg to lick my toes.
I find it hard to imagine that even as recent as two hours prior, you were on all fours with your ass in the air, spreading your own butt cheeks and begging me to invade your tight cherry “pussy” with my largest black dildo.
When you take control in the meeting, when you back off the detractors, when you resume order after a few of your younger colleagues get off track, I remind myself that this is the same man who whimpers and pleads for the opportunity to lick, suck and worship my cock. I remind myself that you look incredible when you are crawling to me on all fours, looking longingly at my strap on cock, ultimately begging for the opportunity to suck it for hours.
How can this be the same man?
When I think about this, from across the room, I feel my panties getting wet. I feel the ache in my pussy, I feel my face getting flushed. My cheeks get hot. I find myself not thinking about the matters at hand, but thinking about your tongue between my legs, your cheeks against my thighs. The soft whimpers I can get from you when I pull your hair as you worship my pussy.
I think horribly inappropriate thoughts for a professional meeting, I will admit.
The best moments, though, are when I catch you in the most intense state of serious concentration, when I know that your mind is completely focused. When I can tell that you have somehow managed to get your mind off the fact that I am sitting across from you, possibly pleasuring myself under the board room conference table thanks to careful placement of my coat.
I see your deep concentration and it makes me want to violate you. I want to break that concentration. I want to prove to you and to myself that I can make you tremble, make you sweat and even make you cry; the look of concentration is almost like a challenge to me.
Who would have thought such a simple thing could put me in such a frenzy? When I see you looking so serious and unshakable, my thoughts immediately go to developing a very intense and degrading scenario for you.
I imagine how soon I will have you strapped down, immobile. The restraints will be thorough and diabolical. Like something out of one of my SALS stories; something extreme. Rubber shackles holding you down spread-eagled, or a tight leather straitjacket combined with heavy chain across your chest to keep you on your back.
Legs spread wide – uncomfortably wide. Naked from the waist down, so you feel especially vulnerable (unable to lift your head and even see what I have in store for your cock and balls, or what I may do to your ass).
The point of this exercise – of making you so helpless – is so that I may take my desired, comfortable position of sitting on your face. Smothering you. Not allowing you an ounce of freedom, nor the ability to breathe. Unless I am persuaded to allow you – via your eager licking, your desperate whimpers or your subtle but detectable body movements that do so much to turn me on.
The struggling is what will save you. Ironic, isn’t it? As you sit there in the corporate meetings across from me, doing your best to remain so calm and collected, I spin the ideas in my mind that will ultimately leave you desperately helpless and struggling under the pressure of my ass. Smothering you, destroying your calm demeanor, simply because the thrashing about that comes with needing to breathe is what makes me so incredibly wet.
How much composure will you have? How long will it last? You know I delight in peeling away your comfort and pride, a little strip at a time. When you finally give up and your little struggling turns into desperate wriggling, you’ll be pushing me right over the edge. Even though it is my ass, not my pussy that is smothering you, I’ll just need to reach down between my legs to bring myself to orgasm, cumming all over your face as you remain there, helpless.
When you look at me from across a crowded board room, and I smile at you, you know now what I am thinking.
Don’t be surprised if there’s a little ‘emergency meeting’ called today, my corporate slut.
Affectionately,
Mistress Akasha
(c) Copyright 2005. All rights reserved. akasha@akashaweb.com