Mr Thompson removes Felicity’s bra

Mr. Thompson's other hand moved to the clasp of her bra, his fingers deftly unhooking it. He slid the straps down her arms, and the garment fell away, revealing her small, perky breasts.

He groaned at the sight, his cock twitching against her ass. "God, I've been dying to see these," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His hands moved up to cup her, his thumbs flicking over her sensitive nipples.

Felicity's breath hitched as she felt the heat of his palms, his touch sending jolts of pleasure through her body. She leaned back into him, her head lolling against his shoulder. She had never felt so... used, and yet it was intoxicating.

"You're a dirty little thing, aren't you, Felicity?" Mr. Thompson murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "You liked it when I watched you, didn't you? You liked being my little slut, my personal show."

Felicity's breath caught in her throat, and she couldn't deny the truth in his words. His hand squeezed her breast, his thumb and forefinger pinching her nipple hard, rolling it between them until she moaned. The pain sent a shock of pleasure through her, and she found herself arching into his touch.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in her ear. "You're such a good little slut for me, aren't you?" He leant down to kiss her neck. She gasped, her body responding with a jolt of arousal.

Mr. Thompson's hand slid down her body, his fingers dancing over the smooth, wet fabric of her panties. He traced the line of her slit, her hips moving in silent invitation. His touch was firm and demanding, his fingers finding her clit with ease. She could feel the wetness seeping through the lace, leaving a damp patch on his hand.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear. "Beg for it," he whispered, his breath hot and heavy. "Beg me to rub your pretty little pussy, Felicity."

Felicity's eyes snapped open, her cheeks flaming. She had never been so exposed, so **** before another person. But the thrill of it all was too much to resist. She swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "Please, sir," she begged, "please rub my pussy."

Mr. Thompson's grin was predatory as he complied, his hand sliding over her panties to touch her pussy through the delicate lace. She gasped as his finger pressed the material into her wetness, finding her clit and pressing down firmly. Her body jerked in his lap, her hands gripping the arms of the chair. "Oh god," she whimpered, her hips moving involuntarily to meet his touch.

He watched her face closely, his stare intense, his eyes dark with lust. "Beg for it, Felicity," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Beg for me to let you take off these wet little lacey panties."

Her cheeks were scarlet, her eyes glazed over with desire. She knew what he wanted, what he was making her do, and the thrill of it was like nothing she had ever felt before. She leaned back into his chest, her voice shaky. "Please, sir," she whispered, her voice a **** plea. "May I... may I take off my panties?"