S*x with the Virgin Maid IV

It was almost noon when I finally left my room, and I had barely slept. Every time I drifted off, I felt Damian’s tongue on me again, slow, hot licks that made my hips jerk even in my dreams. When I woke up for good, my panties were soaked, and my n*****s ached like they’d been pinched all night. I couldn’t stop smiling. Today felt different, and I didn’t want to hide behind the maid uniform anymore. I wanted him to see all of me, the real me, the one who was burning up inside because of him. I dug through my small suitcase until I found the clothes I’d brought “just in case.” A pair of tiny denim shorts I’d bought on a dare back home but never worn outside my bedroom, and a thin white crop top that ended just under my breasts. I opted for no bra, and no panties either since I didn't need them. The shorts were so short that the bottom curve of my ass peeked out when I walked, and the frayed edges rubbed against my bare skin with every step. The crop top was loose but clingy, and the fabric was so soft that it made my n*****s feel ticklish. They were already hard, and poking clearly through the white. I looked in the mirror and barely recognized myself. My cheeks were pink, my eyes bright, and my legs looked a mile long. I felt slutty in the best way, but also a little nervous. I’d never dressed like this around any man, not even close, but for Damian, I wanted to be bold. I ran my hands over my body one last time, down my neck, over my breasts, across my bare stomach, and between my legs where I was already slick. Just a quick touch, enough to make me shiver, then I took a deep breath and walked out. The house was quiet, but I knew for sure that he was home because he hadn’t left for the city today, which was perfect. I walked slowly, letting my hips sway, feeling the shorts ride higher with every step. The cool air on my bare p***y made me even wetter, and by the time I reached the library door, my heart was pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. The door was half open, and he was seated at the big wooden desk with his shirt sleeves rolled up, and his dark hair messy like he’d been running his hands through it. He looked focused, sexy, and mine. I pushed the door open all the way and leaned against the frame. He looked up, and froze. His eyes went wide for a second, then dark and hungry. They moved slowly over me, starting at my face, down to my hard n*****s pressing against the thin top, across my bare midriff, lingering on the tiny shorts that barely covered anything, down my legs, then all the way back up. “What,” he said, his voice low and rough, “are you wearing?” I smiled, small and shaky. “Just something comfortable.” I stepped inside and closed the door behind me with a soft click. Then I walked toward the low bookshelf across from his desk, picking up a feather duster I didn’t need. I turned my back to him and bent over to “dust” the bottom shelf. The shorts pulled tight, riding up completely, and cool air hit my bare ass and p***y. I knew he could see everything, how wet I was, and how pink and ready. I heard his chair scrape back, and papers rustled like he’d shoved them aside. “Lila,” he said, warning in his tone. “Turn around.” I straightened slowly and faced him. My n*****s throbbed under the crop top, and I could feel slickness on my inner thighs. He stood behind the desk, his hands gripping the edge, knuckles white. “You’ve never dressed like this before.” “No,” I admitted. “Never around a man. Only for you.” Something flashed in his eyes, possessiveness, pride, and pure want. “Come here.” I walked to him, my hips swaying, until I stood right in front of the desk. He reached out and caught my waist, pulling me between his legs as he sat back down. His hands slid up under the crop top immediately, cupping my bare breasts, his thumbs brushing my n*****s. “No bra,” he murmured. “Good girl.” I gasped at the touch, arching into his palms. He pinched lightly, rolling the hard peaks between his fingers until I whimpered. “These shorts,” he said, his hands moving down to grip my ass, squeezing hard. “f**k. They don’t cover anything.” His fingers traced the bottom curve where shorts met skin, then slipped lower, finding me bare and dripping. “No panties either.” His voice was rougher now. “You walked around my house like this? Wet and ready for me?” “Yes,” I breathed. “All morning.” He groaned and pulled me closer, burying his face between my breasts. He licked one n****e through the fabric, then the other, making the top cling wetly. I tangled my fingers in his hair, holding him there. One of his hands stayed on my ass, kneading, while the other slid between my legs from behind, fingers gliding through my slick folds. “Soaked,” he muttered against my skin. “You’ve been thinking about yesterday, haven’t you?” “Couldn’t stop,” I admitted. “I keep feeling your tongue.” He stood suddenly, lifting me onto the desk like I weighed nothing. He stepped between my spread legs, his hands pushing my thighs wider. “I thought about you too,” he said. “All night. How sweet you taste, how tight you are…” he whispered as his fingers circled my c**t slowly, teasing. “And how much I want to be inside you.” I moaned, my hips rocking into his touch. “Please.” He pulled me off the desk and guided me to the big leather armchair in the corner. Then he sat with his legs spread and tugged me down to straddle him. The second my bare p***y touched the hard ridge in his pants, I gasped. He was thick, hot, and throbbing. “Feel that?” he growled. “That’s what you do to me.” I ground down instinctively, rubbing myself along his length through the fabric. Pleasure shot through me, sharp and sweet. His hands gripped my hips, guiding me harder. “That’s it. Use me.” We rocked together like that for minutes, with wet sounds from me and low groans from him. My crop top rode up, breasts bouncing, and his mouth found my neck, sucking marks I’d have to hide later. Then he stopped, breathing hard. “I need more.” He lifted me off his lap and stood, then unzipped his pants slowly, his eyes on mine the whole time. His c**k sprang free, thick and long, the tip already wet, and I stared, my mouth watering. I’d felt it yesterday, but seeing it up close like this made my p***y clench. “On your knees, baby.” I dropped without thinking, the rug soft under me. My hands shook as I reached for him, wrapping my fingers around the base. He was hot, and a bead of pre-c*m leaked from the slit. I leaned in and licked it off, salty and perfect. He groaned, his hand sliding into my hair, not pushing, just holding. I licked again, longer this time, from base to tip. Then I opened my mouth and took the head inside, sucking gently. He tasted clean, musky, and all man, and I swirled my tongue around the ridge, loving the way his hips twitched. “f**k, yes,” he muttered. “Just like that.” I took more of him, inch by inch, until he hit the back of my throat. My jaw stretched wide, eyes watering a little, but I didn’t care. I wanted all of him. I bobbed slowly at first, finding a rhythm, my hand stroking what I couldn’t fit. His praises came low and constant. “Good girl… so pretty with my c**k in your mouth… look at you.” I looked up at him through my lashes. His head was tipped back, neck muscles tight, but his eyes stayed on me, and the power of it, making this strong man lose control, went straight to my c**t. I sucked harder, hollowing my cheeks, my tongue pressing the underside. My free hand cupped his balls, gentle at first, then firmer, and he cursed under his breath, hips rocking shallow. “Close,” he warned, his voice strained. “Pull off if…” I didn’t. I took him deeper, moaning around him, and he came with a deep groan, hot pulses filling my mouth. I swallowed fast, greedy for every drop, some spilling over my lips and chin when I couldn’t keep up. He pulled me up immediately, kissing me hard and messily, his tongue licking into my mouth like he wanted to taste himself on me. “Perfect,” he whispered against my lips. “You’re f*****g perfect.” Then he spun me around, and bent me over the arm of the chair. My shorts were yanked down in one rough pull, cool air hitting my soaked p***y. His fingers slid inside me, two at once, stretching and pumping fast while his thumb found my c**t, rubbing tight circles. “Come for me again,” he said, his voice dark. “I want to feel it.” I didn’t last long. The orgasm crashed over me hard, my thighs shaking, a cry muffled in the leather cushion. He kept moving his fingers through it, drawing it out until I was limp and gasping. When it faded, he pulled me into his lap on the chair, shorts still around my thighs, and I curled into his chest, breathing hard, feeling his heartbeat under my cheek. He wiped my chin gently with his thumb and then licked it clean himself, and the intimacy of it made my chest tight.