Of course…

Felicity's cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. She reached down to the zipper of her skirt, her hands shaking as she pulled it down. She stepped out of the pool of fabric, now standing in front of him in just her white lace bra and panties.

Mr. Thompson's hands began to roam again, running down her ass and between her legs. He cupped her pussy, squeezing gently through the wet fabric of her panties. She could feel his cock growing harder against her, his excitement palpable.

"You're already so wet for me," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. He rubbed her clit, the pressure just right through her panties, sending waves of pleasure through her.

Felicity bit her lip to stifle a moan.

"You liked being watched, didn't you?" he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "You liked knowing that I was watching, that I wanted you."

Her pussy throbbed, confirming his suspicion. She felt his hand press harder against her panties, his finger pressing the material through her wetness and into her folds. He found her clit, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles.

"Tell me," he demanded, his voice a soft growl. "Tell me how much you liked it."

Felicity's voice was a strangled whisper. "I... I liked it, sir."

Mr. Thompson's grip on her hair tightened, his finger moving faster. "Say it louder," he ordered.

"I liked it, sir," she moaned, her voice stronger now, the words spilling from her lips as if they had been waiting to be spoken.