She places it on himself

She guided it down to where hers had just been.

“Feed it to me,” she said, sounding sure of what she wanted.

I did as I was told. My fingers wrapped around myself, hesitant at first from the idea of what I was doing, then firmer, any restraint I had leaving me as I watched myself push gently forward. Watching her lips open to welcome me. A shiver ran the length of my spine as her tongue stuck out to meet me and welcome me in. The wet sensation combined with the lewd visual was coursing through me like a jolt.

She reached up once more and her fingers wrapped around my other hand to lift it to the back of her head, guiding it into her ponytail. She wrapped the thick length of it around my hand like a handle and pressed my hand forward against her. Pushing herself further down my shaft.

That was when my head fell back. A low groan escaped me, unrestrained this time, and my mouth hung open as I struggled to process the reality of what was happening. The feel of her, the control she had, the impossible talent of her mouth, and her sheer **** of will that had brought me to this point.

And all I could do was hold on.

My head lolled back, slack-jawed. “We… we shouldn’t be doing this,” I murmured, the words barely audible, drifting out more from reflex than conviction. There was no **** behind them. No resistance. Only the shallow rise and fall of my chest and the tremble in my voice as her mouth continued its practiced talents.

Mia never slowed. Instead, but I could hear her as she reached behind herself with one hand, fumbling blindly along the desk’s cluttered surface. It was minimal noise – not enough to worry about. Her head kept moving in a steady bobbing motion, lips sealed around me, taking me deeper each time. I heard her bump against some papers, a pen rolling until the clip stopped it, but her mouth felt too good to pay attention.

She kept her rhythm, never missing a beat, but I could hear something shifting, maybe her fingers moving along the desk behind her. There was a soft tap, the faint scrape of some sort. I didn’t really process it.

Then, with a sudden drop of her shoulders, she sank the rest of the way.

Her nose pressed against hard enough that her glasses dug into my lower abdomen. She was forcing as much as she could into her throat. The hand I had wrapped around myself had moved out of the way, making room as it now hovered awkwardly, unsure what to do with it suddenly.

She squeezed her eyes shut as though in discomfort and pressed the button.

I was blissfully unaware, until I heard the unmistakable click of the camera. That pulled me half out of the fog, and when I looked down, I caught just enough to see her holding the phone angled up, framing both my body and hers. Her eyes were focused, causing a small crease of concentration above her glasses, but her mouth never stopped working me. For a second, I was too stunned to say anything, unsure if I’d imagined it, or if she’d really just done what I thought she had.

I could imagine the picture in my mind and what it must look like. My office clearly in the background, with her ponytail wrapped around my fist, and her nose buried in me, as she took my full length with her eyes clamped shut.

“What the fuck– did you just take a picture?” I growled.

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