An Assignment (part 3)

This story was part of another experiment of mine. I wanted to write first-person stories written directly to the reader, as though the reader was a participant. Originally, I wrote this for a friend. I expanded it to the version you’ll find here. This section continues the story within the story, which was something else I was experimenting with at the time. I’ll continue posting pieces over the next few weeks.

My chair is rocking. I’m breathing heavily and suppressing grunts. My movements slow as I become nervous about being heard. I’d have a moment to collect myself, since no one would enter my office without knocking. Why am I so worried? There isn’t anyone here, right? Getting caught masturbating in my office would land me on the fucking news. My career would end. But seriously, I can do this. No one is here. I’m safe. I have time. Every morning I have time. And this fantasy I’m having and the scenario you’ve created are too hot. I must throw myself into this. I’d hate myself for not taking advantage of the moment. I go back and forth between staring at the picture on the screen and closing my eyes to envision what I want to do with you. I want to keep going. My cock wants me to keep going. I close my eyes again:

You’re rubbing the head of my cock across your neck and cheeks. You dribble saliva on it, and then you rub the wet tip back and forth over your warm throat. The tip slithers up over your chin, over your parted lips, and as you pull it away, a little bridge of saliva forms. “Do you want me to?” you ask…

I notice I’m stroking much harder now, almost forgetting—or no longer caring—where I am. Lust has a way of overpowering reason. As I glance up at the screen, I see I have another message. I sit up and click on it, keeping my left hand wrapped around my cock, pulling on instinct. The message is from you, of course. It reads, “It’s too hard? Maybe this will help.” My pace and pulse each quicken. You’ve attached more images. One shows you, hood up, your lips wrapped around a glass dildo. The other is a very close up shot of your finger sinking into your pussy. The images are titled “6:22” and “6:23” respectively. The clock on my computer says 6:26.

I don’t think about what to do next. All with one hand, I open and aim the webcam on the computer. As I do so, my heart seems to stop as I think I hear someone. I pause in silence, but I’m pretty sure no one is there. Resuming, I line up a picture of me in my chair, pulling myself for you. The light is just enough for you to see what I’m doing. I get an extra rush from taking this shot. Attaching the image feels like it takes forever. I continue to fear getting caught. Typing again with one hand (and getting irritated with my hurried typos) I send it to you, titling the message “6:28.” I stroke even harder afterwards, adding some spit to the mix. This is driving me nuts. In the moment, I lose control a little, letting my lust and urgency to ejaculate take over. I have to slow up to keep from popping all over my pants and my desk. I regain control, close my eyes, and picture you again:

Your tongue makes its way slowly from the base of my cock to the head. Every inch along the way feels incredible. I’m intensely aware of each tiny movement of your tongue. Your eyes peek up and open, fluttering a bit. They close as you rub your cheek against my wet shaft and give it kisses all up and down. Your kisses start to incorporate more and more tongue. You get to the top and open up, your back arched and your breath heavy. Your teeth graze the head a bit, almost pinching it. Then you open your eyes and smile at me. Finally, your tongue presses against the underside of the head and you wrap your lips around me…

A chime startles me. I open my eyes and I see another message has arrived. The subject line reads “Not bad. Keep up the good work.” Another attachment. I open it. This one is a short video, which is titled “6:36.” One-handed once more, I play it, quickly realizing the volume is up on my computer. A loud shudder blasts over the speakers. I jump up to bring the volume down, but not before I hear you exclaim, “Oh fuck! Fuuuuck!” That sounded like it felt really good, but the moment scares the fucking daylights out of me. As I’m closing the video, my hand works my cock independently, as though someone else is doing it for me. I watch again after adjusting the volume. I see a close up of your pussy. You’re working yourself with a vibrator. The video quality is bad, but I get the point. I wonder to myself if anyone heard that. My heart slides up into my throat as I definitely hear a door close up the hallway.

Quickly, I jam myself into my pants, zip and buckle up, and compose myself. I minimize the window and sit in silence for a moment. Whoever it was went somewhere else. Reopening the window, I type another message to you. “I need to discuss this assignment further with you. I’ll see you in my office later.” Now I close the windows on the screen, delete my history, and delete the downloads and recent items. I take a few deep breaths. What the fuck was I just doing?

Part 4 in a few days…


3 thoughts on “An Assignment (part 3)

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