I was losing control.

After hearing Victoria moan my name again last night, I barely slept. My obsession had turned feral. I needed her. Not just her attention — I needed her tongue on my clit, her fingers inside me, her engaged, straight pussy grinding against mine.

Day Four. I was done playing gentle.

I wore the most dangerous outfit yet: a sheer black blouse that was practically see-through under the office lights, no bra, nipples clearly visible and rock-hard. The skirt was so short it looked more like a belt. No panties. My pussy was freshly shaved, glistening, and already dripping before I even reached her floor.

When I...