Some Dictation

a forward facing shot up Cara's skirt while she's sitting in a chair

Bonus: storyin12 drabble and picture for Sinful Sunday

“Filthy, filthy girl. I know you’re sitting at your desk with wet panties, aren’t you?”

Her boss’s voice filtered through the intercom system. She stopped transcribing the notes he’d given her and reached between her thighs to press at the gusset of her underwear. They were wet, the fabric soaked from when he’d made her edge earlier. She shifted in her seat.

“Are you wet?”

“Yes, Mr. Pietre.”

“Hm, I want you wetter. I’d like you to come to my office for a little dictation.”

Her cunt gave a hard spasm.

“But… the file.”

“Now, Ms. Hart. These things can’t wait.”

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