Page 7 of Susie's Orc

I don’t expect Jonah to reach right out and cup my pussy over my black work slacks. I don’t expect him to lean in close and press his lips on the tender spot beneath my ear.

“Is this what you were thinking about in that meeting?”

I nod, grinding down a little onto his fingers. Even over my clothes, it feels incredible.

“Words, Susie. I want to hear your words.”

Holy shit. Jonah from Accounting is bossy. Bossy and stern and so fucking hot right now.

I also still really, really have to stop calling him ‘Jonah from Accounting.’ ‘Daddy,’ maybe, or ‘sir’ might be more fitting. I’m still thinking about it when he gives me an impatient little tap between my legs.

“Focus, Susie.”

“Yes!” I yelp when he pushes the heel of his palm against my clit over the fabric. “Yes, I was thinking about this.”

“I thought so,” he says, a delicious thread of certainty and smugness in his voice. “Take your pants off.”

I obey immediately, stripping my slacks down my legs and kicking them aside along with my socks. I’m standing in only my panties and sweater in the middle of my living room. The blinds are open, and anyone in the building across the street could look over and see. Fuck, part of me wishes they would.

My hands go to the waistband of my panties—purple cotton, bikini-cut, nothing special—and I’m just about to take those off too when Jonah stops me.

“No. Leave those. Come here.” He sits down on the couch and pats his thigh.

My mind scrambles, and then blanks out entirely. He wants me to siton his lap?

My legs decide for me as I wobble over to him and stop just short of bumping my knees to his. Gripping my hips, he turns me around and tugs me down so I’ve got my back to his chest. He tucks his thick thighs between mine and pushes them wide, spreading me open. His hands run up and down the inside of my thighs, stopping just short of brushing up against my pussy, and leaving little fires burning in their wake.

When I’m settled, he presses his lips to the side of my neck. The smooth slide of his tusks against my skin, the slightest prick of their pointed tips, makes me gasp.

“So pretty, Susie,” he murmurs, running his tusks lightly over me again. “Pretty little purple panties just waiting for me to take them off of you.”

The noise I make is nowhere near coherent when he snakes one hand down to rub against the fabric.

“Already so hot for me.” He leans forward over my shoulder to watch himself stroke me.

I can’t believe this is happening.

Full stop.

My mind struggles to keep up and my body won’t stop squirming against him, trying to make sense of all the new sensations. He’s sowarm, so big, and every time he speaks, the deep rumble of his voice vibrates all the way through me.

“On or off?” he asks, playing with the hem of my sweater.

“Off,” I tell him breathlessly. “Bra too. Please.”

He obliges, and the noise he makes in the back of his throat when my tits are out for his appraisal echoes straight down between my thighs.

“Fuck, Susie. This is what you’ve been hiding under all those sweaters you wear?”

I do wear a lot of sweaters. Even in the summer. I don’t have a lot of extra padding on my slim, almost curveless frame, and I always seem to be chilly. He noticed?

“When were you looking at my sweaters?”

“Every godsdamn day.”

Jonah reaches up to caress my breasts. He kneads slowly, plucks at my nipples, rolls them between his fingers and I arch into the slight zing of pleasure-pain.

With one hand still at my breasts, he snakes the other back down to work me over my panties. Pulling the fabric taut between two of his fingers, he rubs a third over and over my clit. The pressure is incredible, the steady, commanding touch so damn delicious as he rumbles his approval into the side of my neck when I cant my hips to chase the sensation.

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