Tina’s eting footsteps echoed closer, the door handle turning just as I tucked my phone away, the hidden caras’ feeds safely minimized in the background.
My heart was still racing from the covert wiring job, I grabbed her spare laptop from the desk—left open innocently—and launched a casual puzzle ga, fingers flying across keys to sell the distraction. The office bathed in afternoon glow, lunch tray remnants scattered like normalcy.
She breezed in, exuding post-eting energy—tailored blazer slung over one shoulder, blouse slightly unbuttoned, that signature bulge hinting at her secret. Spotting , her face lit up. She leaned down, planting a soft kiss on my cheek—lips warm, jasmine scent enveloping . "Hey, beautiful. What are you doing?"
"Playing a ga, Tina," I murmured, eyes glued to the screen, matching colourful tiles in a frantic cascade. Casual, composed—don’t let her suspect the caras humming silently. If she caught on this, I would have to... do sothing to ’save’ .
With effortless strength, Tina scooped up like I weighed nothing, settling onto the desk chair and plopping squarely on her lap, legs draped over hers. My ga jolted; the laptop balanced precariously.
"Hey! I’m playing!" I protested half-heartedly, giggling as her arms caged warmly.
"Sweetheart, you can play," she teased, nuzzling my neck, breath hot against my skin. "I’m not stopping you, am I?"
"You can’t," I shot back, refocusing on the screen, thumbs tapping furiously to clear a level—bright explosions rewarding my focus. "You can never stop ."
"I can’t?" Her voice dropped an octave; playful challenge laced with hunger. One hand slid up my blouse boldly, squeezing my left breast through the soft fabric—firm, possessive, thumb circling the nipple to instant hardness. Electricity shot straight to my core.
An involuntary moan spilled from my lips, breathy and needy, but I stubbornly kept playing, hips shifting slightly on her lap. Focus, Sharon—win this round first. I am not going to lose myself to this.
"Ignoring already, sweetheart?" Tina murmured, nipping my earlobe, her free hand gripping my thigh, inching upward teasingly.
"Let play, Tina," I whined, voice strained as another tile matched, score climbing. The friction of her growing bulge pressed insistently against my ass—thickening, hot through our clothes—making concentration a delicious war.
"But I want to play with my girlfriend," she growled softly, grinding up deliberately now, her cock twitching against . Fingers pinched my nipple sharper, sending sparks; her other hand cupped my mound over the pants, rubbing slow circles.
"Don’t get aroused now, please," I gasped, ga faltering as a moan bubbled up again. "Your dick is poking —hard and distracting."
She chuckled darkly, fully erect now, the outline unmistakable as she rocked on it. "Poking? This is your fault, wiggling like that. One more level, then I claim my prize." Her breath hitched, lips trailing my jaw. Laptop screen blurred; my high score shattered under her assault—moans mixing with victory chis.
"You’re too bossy, Tina. Fine, you win," I surrendered breathlessly, slamming the laptop shut and twisting to straddle her fully on the chair. My hands dove into her silky hair, tugging gently as our kiss ignited—deep, urgent, feral. Her bulge ground perfectly against my aching heat through our clothes, sending jolts of friction that made whimper into her mouth.
With behaving as a cute, little girlfriend—Tina would never doubt on .
Tina fisted my hair possessively, yanking my head back just enough to control the angle, her other hand roaming greedily to rub and knead my breasts—palms cupping their weight, fingers rolling nipples to stiff peaks beneath the blouse.
"Mhmmm..."
Her tongue invaded like a conqueror, dancing wildly with mine—swirling, sucking, exploring every crevice—roof of my mouth, sensitive undersides, teeth nipping lightly. She devoured my gasps, deepening until air grew scarce; stars danced behind my eyelids, lungs burning sweetly. Saliva-slick and dizzy, I lted against her, body arching instinctively as her hips bucked up, cock throbbing insistently.
Finally, lightheaded and desperate, I pushed her chest weakly, breaking free with a gasp. Standing shakily on wobbly legs, I teased, "Well, that’s the only thing you’ll get for now."
Her eyes flashed dark amusent. In a blur, she surged up, scooping over her shoulder like a ragdoll. "Sharon, are you underestimating ?"
"Oh, really?!" I yelped, fists pounding her strong back repeatedly, legs thrashing wildly in the air—flats flying off, socks slipping. "Put down, Tina!"
"Calm down, or I’ll punish you," she warned, voice low and commanding, carrying effortlessly toward the door despite my squirms. "Sharon, you are getting naughtier day-by-day. Okay, you need to be punished for this."
Defiance flared; I kicked harder, trying to free myself. Her palm cracked down on my ass—sharp, stinging smack through the pants, jolting still for a heartbeat.
Then another—crack! —harder, heat blooming across both cheeks. I squealed, pounding futilely as the third and fourth landed in rapid succession—left, right, left again—each strike precise, the sound echoing off marble like thunder. Fabric trapped the warmth, turning pain to throbbing ache; tears welled hot in my eyes, spilling over as I thrashed weaker. "Ow—stop! Tina!"
She paused mid-stride, lowering gently to my feet but keeping a firm arm around my waist. Five more deliberate spanks followed—slower now, each one punctuated by her growl— smack "Behave." Smack "For ." My ass burned fiery red underneath, sobs breaking free—equal parts sting and surrender. Crying openly, mascara smudging, I clutched her shirt, body trembling.
"I a-am... s-sorry... T-Tina... I-I am s-sorry..."
Tina’s deanour shifted instantly, softening like warm butter. She pulled into her chest, one hand stroking my hair tenderly, the other rubbing soothing circles over my punished cheeks—gentle kneads easing the smart.
"Shh, sweetpea," she murmured, lips pressing feather-kisses to my tear-streaked forehead, temples, then salty cheeks. "I’m sorry, baby—but you were pushing buttons. You’ll behave now, won’t you? My good girl."
Sniffling, I nodded against her neck, the sting fading into comforting warmth, her scent grounding . "Y-yes... I will."
"Good." She tilted my chin, thumb wiping a stray tear before sealing it with a soft, apologetic kiss—lingering, full of promise. "Now, let’s take you ho. Does it hurt really bad?"
"Yes, Tina... it... h-hurts..." I sniffled, burying my face into her neck.
"I am sorry, baby. Don’t worry, I will give you a proper aftercare when we reach ho."
"You b-bullied... y-your girlfriend..."
"I am really sorry, my little girlfriend."
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