Bought By The Billionaire

I am tired of studying. Although I have exams next week and need to revise, my brain and eyes are tired. I can feel myself growing stale almost by the minute.

My Master is sitting opposite me, working, legs crossed at the ankle, examining papers and accounts, making occasional notes in the margin. Bored with reading about economics, budgets, surplus and deficits, financial accounting versus cost accounting, and..... I decide it is time for a change of tone. Plucking a grape from the bunch on the table next to me, I toss it at my Master. It bounces off his file, and down onto the settee beside him.

Over his glasses, he gazes expressionlessly at me for a moment, picks up the grape, pops it in his mouth, and returns to his note making.

Piqued at such a non-response, I pluck and toss another grape. This time it lands on his lap. Once again, he levels a look at me and pops it in his mouth. "I thought you were supposed to be working?” he says. “Studying hard for your exams?”

"Well yes, but I'm tired. I need a break."

"You need a break, so I have to be disturbed while I am trying to work?"

"You've been at it for hours too. Don't you want a rest as well?"

"I need to get this done for the meeting with the Thorntons tomorrow."

“You'll perform better at the meeting if you're rested.”

“Later Elizabeth. Right now, I must finish this.” And he returns to his reading.

I wait for a minute, then toss a third grape at him. This time he, somehow, catches it one-handedly in mid-air, apparently without even looking at it.

As he puts it in his mouth he says, "If you keep this up, I’ll put you over my knee and spank your ass red.”

At his words, my panties suddenly become moist with heat. With a take a sharp intake of breath, I now know what kind of break I’m looking for.

are passé, I wheel out

breasts, trailing fingers over my contours, waiting for my Master to notice. Irritatingly,

my knees, displaying rather more thigh, and revealing a slight view of my panties. This time, my Master notices the movements and glances up briefly,

longer looking at his files, his eyes instead follow my fingers as they draw circles around the outline of my nipples

trail down between breasts, stomach and thighs, ever lower towards the hem of my skirt. Slipping under and in, they trace a line along the inside of

beside him. Sitting with arms folded, legs outstretched, he watches my performance, his black

fabric, all the

I play with my clit, gently tormenting my warming bud, allowing the contour of my moving fingers to be outlined through the silk, as a dark wet stain spreads across the fabric. My Master’s head tilts a little as he watches

“Master?”

Get

I rise, slide out of the garment and start to sit

the settee on which he is sitting. “There, Madam, if you would. If you insist on flaunting yourself, I’ll

leg, allowing my Master to see everything that is his. It is not entirely coincidental, that now I am in this position, it will be very easy for my Master to lean forward to reach me. I am hoping it

doing this yet. Instead, he has swung around, watching me in silence. Adjusting my position to ensure that

garment fall open, before sliding it from my shoulders and letting it fall

fingers, I tease at the nipple, hardening it further. Plucking and rolling it, I ensure that my Master can see what I am doing at all times, his view uninterrupted. His eyes indicate I should give the other

I want to draw

want to be

fingers over my thighs, stroking inwards, slipping through red curls to neatly trimmed pussy lips, I open myself up, parting

in my Master’s jeans is unmistakable now. As I dip fingers into my wet pussy, slipping them rhythmically in and out, a sheen of sweat develops on his

heavily, droplets hovering between my breasts, as my heart begins to race. Finger fucking myself, I

God, Master. Please. I want you to

almost launches himself towards me, ready to bury his face in