Ciana Rose's Erotic Stories


Desk Lust


All Rights Reserved





She knelt before him, eyes down cast, not meeting his gaze. She was nude except for her heels, collar and cuffs. As she knelt, she made sure that her legs were slightly spread so he could see her pussy, well shaved and lips parted slightly in arousal. The fire in her ass and shoulders still making her swoon from the flogging he had given her as a reward.

She could not look into his eyes now. Especially not now. His gaze had a power over her now that could strip her to her soul and lay her bare before him. She could only look at him when he was looking away and then she gazed in loving awe of him. When he looked back at her however, she had to immediately avert her eyes. She knew he was aware of that and did it just to keep her off guard. She even sensed the smile on his lips as she gazed down at the floor.

He reached out and tapped the end table next to him and she quickly sprang to her feet and trotted off to the kitchen. She got his favorite coffee mug down and poured a cup, exactly 4/5 full, leaving room for cream and sugar. She carefully scooped out one and a half spoons of sugar and then added cream until it was just the right color. Sure it was perfect, she trotted back into the room, the scalding cup clasped in both hands.

She knelt again and presented him the coffee, bowing her head slightly as she did. He allowed her to sit there a second, the heat of the coffee trying her dedication as she held it out in both hands, safely cool handle pointing to him. Finally he took it from her and stroked her cheek with a finger. She blushed. Such a simple act and yet she felt like a giggling virgin again when he did it.

She heard him sip it and then sigh. At first she was worried it was not right but then he stoked her face again and whispered, "Perfect." And with that word, she felt . . . exalted. It was hard to explain, she felt worthy and useful and pleasing. She blushed and thanked him in a soft, tiny voice.

As he sipped his coffee she leaned against his legs. The leather pants tight over his flesh, his hard cock an obvious bulge running down his right thigh. She nuzzled her chin against his erection and rested upon him, his hand slowly stroking her long hair as she did. They sat that way for a long time, he, enjoying his coffee and she, enjoying the feeling of being his.

He tapped his cup and she sprang up again, hearing that it was empty she went back to the kitchen at a trot, her ass and tits bouncing as she did. She could feel his eyes on her, hungrily devouring her as she walked away. She made another cup and brought it in to the living room and found him sitting not on his couch, but at his computer desk. He was pulled well back from it and his pants were unlaced, his heavy cock and balls hanging free as he waited for her.

She trotted up and handed him the cup and he set it upon the desk and motioned for her to kneel down again. She lowered herself onto her knees until her face was directly in front of his cock. She could smell him, smell his sweat and arousal. Her mouth watered, she wanted to gobble him up right then and there. Instead she waited to be commanded.

"Time to write," He said to her and she obediently scooted back under his desk, the leg area much larger than normal so that she fit well.

Before he pushed himself in to position, she quickly made sure of her position under the desk. Her head was at cock level, her legs spread and her wet cunt pointing directly at the web cam. The cam was at an angle so that one could see both her pussy and her sucking in the same shot. She made sure it was lined up right and then closed her eyes and opened her mouth and waited for him.

He slid forward and his cock was lifted to penetrate her mouth as he came to rest in his place for writing. She began to suck and lick him immediately as he readied himself. She heard clicks of the mouse and then silence. He waited for the webcam to focus and then adjusted his position slightly so that her sucking was in better view. He watched her from his seat, displayed on the screen before him.

"Fingers," He said. She immediately reached down and spread herself wide open for his review. His cock throbbed in her mouth and again she felt precious, he approved.

"Now . . .give them a show," He said.

She was never sure if he did broadcast it or not. Maybe just he watched -- maybe he let friends. Maybe he just let anyone watch his desk slut work. The idea of strangers jerking off watching her fingers slide into her cunt and his cock fuck her face drove her nuts. She began to finger fuck herself with slow, deep thrusts so that it was a good show for whoever he chose to share her with.

"Good girl. I want a puddle," He said in a deep raspy voice as he watched her show. She loved knowing he was so turned on watching her. He called her his desk slut. . .a title she earned and wore proudly.

His fingers began to type, the story had begun. As he wrote she teased his cock and balls, keeping him on the edge of frenzy. His words were tainted with hunger and stained with the need to cum. He wrote fast and furiously, the sound of his typing echoing through the house as he banged the keys in passion.

She made wet sloppy sucking sounds as she sucked him, knowing he loved hearing them. He often spoke of hooking up a sound recorder so the audience could enjoy them too. She finger fucked herself faster now, the juices dripping down the crack of her ass, making a puddle on the hardwood floor under her. She kept herself facing the camera so they could see her fingers pushing in and the cum squishing out of her and oozing down her crack. He liked that, his cock jerked each time he watched and she felt proud.

The story was going well, he took a short break and reached under and grabbed her hair and pushed her down on his cock until her breath was cut off. He held her there for a long minute and then released her so she could bob up and breathe again. She was ravenous, sucking him like she was starving. She needed his cum so badly. to please him that greatly.

He went back to writing, his fingers clicking out a rhythm she sucked him to. She spread her legs wider and added a third finger into her cunt. As she pulled the hand out after each thrust she was left gaping open for a split second. He liked that as well. She fucked herself deep and hard for him and for the audience. Her body shook with climax after climax but, not an orgasm yet, she had not earned it.

His breathing was ragged as he wrote. Fevered. Passionate. He was in the story now. He was living out whatever perverted fantasy he had conjured up on the page. A low deep growl started in his throat. The story was coming to an end. She sucked him deep and fucked herself faster.

At last he banged on the keys; six hard letters and she knew: THE END had come. She sucked and fucked and performed for him, trying so hard to please him. He growled and pulled back from the desk, his cock popping out of her mouth with an audible noise. He was panting, wild looking. Growling, hard, hungry. She turned her pussy to him and kept fucking herself for him to watch. He gazed at her for a second or two and then stood up, the chair snapped back and out of the way by the force of his standing.

He grabbed her hair and collar in his hands and dragged her out from under the desk. A wild animalistic noise was coming from his throat -- a deep howling whisper. Pulling her across the hardwood floor, he dropped her onto a small mat. He roughly grabbed her legs and raised them up and dropped down between them. Taking her ankles over his shoulder he guided his cock head against her now gaping pussy. She was so sloppy wet he didn't have to be gentle, he just fucked into her hard and fast and deep.

She cried out and dug her fingers into the mat, the sensation at once painful and such intense pleasure she could never describe it. To feel him violate her, to finally feel him in her. She almost cried as he fucked her. He bent her legs almost to her tits so he could lean into the fucking, his cock slamming in and out of her fast and hard. His balls slapped her ass cheeks with each thrust and she squealed each time his cock stretched her pussy as far as she could go.

His sweat dripped on her and she tried to catch it on her tongue. He laughed and shook his head, sending a spray over her and she tasted the sweet saltiness of his efforts. Her tits shook with each thrust, the impact making her whole body shake as he just fucked her for all he was worth.

Then he pulled up and the thrust became uneven and harder. Growling he grabbed her legs and held them high, actually lifting her ass slightly so he was fucking up into her. He threw his head back and howled as he slammed into her again and his cum exploded into her pussy. He leaned over and bit one leg hard and laughed as he pumped more and more cum into her. She screamed and her body tensed and went out of her control. Her back arched and her hands were vice-like in their grip of the mat.

She screamed and came hard, her cunt grabbing his cock and milking every drop out of him. He kept fucking her past his own orgasm, watching his cum squish out with each thrust and watching her body convulse in massive over stimulation. She was weeping now from the intensity as he kept fucking her, finally dropping down onto her, his cock slowly sliding from her pussy as he kissed her face.

They lay there panting for a while, unable to make human sounds. They kissed and he growled and bit her lip playfully. She smiled through her tears and kissed him passionately. He licked the tears on her cheeks and made noises that they tasted so good to him. It was long minutes before either could move again.

Then he stood again and motioned for her to get up. Walking back to the desk, he tapped on his coffee cup. She quickly grabbed it and trotted off to the kitchen on shaky and wobbly legs. She returned with the perfect cup of coffee again and he was seated at his desk, waiting for her. His cock half hard and ready to be brought back to life. She set the cup down and crawled back under the desk where she belonged.

Tonight was writing night. Soon, soon master had promised he would start a novel. She grinned as she began to suck her pussy-taste off his cock. The novel would mean that every night was story night. She felt proud. She would help inspire him. She would be useful. She would be prized. She would be his desk slut, a title she earned and wore with pride.


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