[Christian Castillo]
My eyes follow her as she struts over to the table, her hips swaying to a rhythm permeating the cool air. She hesitates when she reaches the desk, an array of papers, reports, an Apple PC and whatever the f**k I graciously clustered on it. Her brown eyes, hooded with desire, finds me, where I sit rigid, fingers laced under my chin.
My throat tightens. I release a stifled grunt in response and her lips tilt into a smirk? A smile? I don’t know, I can’t tell, but I know it ignites the f*****g monster in my crotch as she spreads everything out, the clatter to the ground, making generous space for her to obey.
Obey.
I like feisty Adelaide but Adelaide obeying, now that intensifies the hardening in my slacks.
She climbs the table sensually, slowly; her skirt—those f*
