Richard sat at his desk, deep in thought. The cursor on the screen awaited his next keystroke. He wondered as he stared at the blinking light if the cursor ever bored or impatient. He knew she was coming, he could her the sound of her heels on the hardwood floor.

“Hey, baby,” Chelsea leaned over and kissed Richard on the cheek.

“Hi, how are you?” Richard leaned back in his leather chair.

Chelsea’s face became shy and coy. “I’ve been a naughty kitten, sir.”

Richard’s eyes arched in mock surprise. “Really?”

“Yes, sir.” Chelsea nodded her head. “A very, very naughty kitten, sir. I may need to be punished.”

“You were talking to those men again, weren’t you?”

Chelsea could feel her face burn with shame as she nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“Did it make your pussy wet...” Richard paused and stared at her, and continued. “Again.”

No words came from her mouth, she just cast her eyes towards the floor and nodded.

“My little slut likes making the mens cocks stiff and hard, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, sir.” Chelsea’s reply wasn’t much more than a whisper.

“Did you play with your pussy?”

“No, sir. You told me not to.”

“Very good, I like it when my slut follows orders,” a smile formed on Richard’s face as his head nodded slightly in approval. “Did you show them your tits on the camera?”

“Just one time, sir.”

Richard’s eyes opened a bit wider, “Oh, and what did he have to say?”

“He said he wanted to jizz me, he wanted to cum over my tits and face.” Chelsea looked up, a sparkle now in her eye as she added, “sir.”

“Did he show you his cock?”

“No, sir. He didn’t have a camera, but he did say he was jacking off while we chatted.”

“Very good,” Richard pointed towards a chair, “You’ve been a very good little slut, you may sit.”

The chair was a very severe, straight backed wooden piece from the 19th century, and sat a few feet across from an leather upholstered wingback chair of the Queen Anne style.

Chelsea had on a very short gray plaid pleated skirt, a black silk blouse, and black knee high socks, and a pair of tall pumps.

“Lift up your skirt, I want to see your cunny.”

“Yes, sir,” Chelsea answered Showing her sex on command still embarrassed her, but she didn’t want to disappoint her man. Chelsea lifted her skirt revealing that she wasn’t wearing any panties, and her pussy was as bare as the day she was born.

“I see you’ve remembered what I like in a naughty slut.”

“Yes, sir, I have.”

“Open your blouse.”

She undid one button at a time until her blouse was open, revealing a black satin shelf bra, her nipples already stiff, jutting forth from her large, perfect breasts.

“Nice tits,” Richard’s voice changed, there was a growl of arousal. “Take the blouse off, but leave the bra.”

He watched her intently, drinking in every detail of her form.

“Sir,” she cleared her voice, “I have a request.”

“Oh, and what would that be?” Richard’s eyebrows arched in mock surprise.

“Sir, your naughty slut would like to suck your cock,” Chelsea licked her lips in anticipation. She loved to suck his cock, she loved how it tasted, and how it felt growing hard in her mouth, until it completely filled it.

“Yes, you may.” He motioned her forward.

“Thank you, sir.” Her eyes gleamed as she knelt between his legs.

With deftness, she undid his alligator skin belt, opened his trousers, reached in his silk boxers and pulled out his semi-erect member.

Richard nodded with approval. “Be my cock-slut and suck me, take all of me into your mouth.”

“Yes, sir,” her small hand pumped his growing member as she opened her mouth to accept his swelling cock-head.

He moaned as her head began to slowly bob up and down, “Mm, I love what you do to my cock, you’re such a good cocksucker.”

Chelsea could feel her pussy becoming damp, she loved it when he called her dirty names, it turned her on even more. And the feeling of his stiff cock in her mouth made her even wetter. Her tongue flicked back and forth as her head moved back and forth.

Richard’s hands slid over his legs and onto her breasts. He squeezed them tightly and began to fondle them.

She winced as his hand squeezed her titty-flesh, she loved having her breasts treated roughly, and he seemed to sense it.

“I love your tits.” His voice was dreamy sounding. “Just the perfect size for my hands, and my cock.”

The thought of him fucking her tits made her pussy even wetter, she fought the urge to reach down and begin playing with hot, wet cunny. She liked it when slid his stiff manhood between her soft boobs and began to pump. She especially liked it when he came that way, spraying her tits and face with his hot man-cream.

His hips began to slowly pump, he removed one hand from her breast and put it on the back on her head.

“I want to fuck your mouth. Good cock-sluts like a good facefucking, don’t they?”

She hummed her approving answer, and nodded her cock-filled face up and down. The tip of his thick cock touched the back of her throat with each thrust. He felt so hard, and her mouth so full, her mouth felt on verge of splitting open.

“I love making you my cum-slut, my little cock-whore,” his cock thrust a bit harder into her mouth, and every few strokes he would pause with the tip of his cock touching the back of her throat and hold it there until he felt her gag reflex begin to kick in.

He was close to the edge, he could easily just pump a bit harder, pull on head just a bit more and the floodgates would open, sending his thick semen deep into her throat. That would be too easy, he wanted to use her tonight. There was perceptible nod of his head and he made up his mind.

“Although, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to fill your mouth with my cum, I’ve decided I want to watch you masturbate.”

She was reluctant to release him from her mouth, she had wanted to taste him, feel the moment when he started to spurt that she felt a bit of power, of control. That thought vanished into the vapor as soon as she realized she would be able to touch her aching sex.

After giving his cock one last lick she rocked back on her heels, “Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Would you have your slut remove her skirt?”

He paused for a moment, weighing the options before answering. “I think, the skirt off.”

Chelsea unfastened the clasp on the skirt and let it drop to the floor. The look of pure lust in his eyes was the only approval she needed. “Sir, where would you have me sit?”

“In that chair,” Richard pointed to a leather upholstered Queen Anne chair.

With his cock bobbing up and down as he walked, he rolled the chair from behind his desk to a spot four feet from where she had sat down.

“Put your legs up on the arms of the chair,” he directed as he sat down.

“Yes, sir,” she complied. She wanted to reach between her legs and touch the wetness, but she waited for his command.

His hand dropped to his swollen shaft, it was still wet from her mouth. As his hand slowly stroked, he gazed in her eyes, “Play with your pussy. I want to watch you masturbate.”

A surge of excitement coursed through her body. This was the moment she had been waiting for, her hand touched her lust drench folds and her whole body sighed with relief. Her finger pushed down over her tingling nub to the center of her sex. For a moment she hooked the tip of her middle finger in her opening before dragging in back up past her hood.

“Yes,” his voice was soft hiss, his eyes focused on her finger.

Chelsea wanted to close her eyes and let the pleasure wash over her, but she wanted to see his reaction as well. She bit her lower lip, and felt a rush of pleasure as she looked up and into his eyes. She knew that look, he was pleased with her.

“Show me your girl-cock,” lust had corroded some of the control in Richard’s voice. “Stroke it for me, make it stiff.”