Personal Assistant

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Contains: Smut

"Personal Assistant" my name tag read. That was a bit of a stretch.

I didn't do anything particularly assistant-y to help Mr. Jordan Belfort, besides maybe bring him coffee sometimes (as if he didn't have enough drugs in his system to keep him going without caffeine) and maybe refill his printer paper or something stupid like that.

Ah, no, my job title would be more accurately described as "Personal Slut" because Jordan loved to keep me around the office so he could pull me off to the side and fuck me when he wanted.

I couldn't say it wasn't consentual, because fuck, Jordan could handle me well. I loved it. He was very territorial over me, as well. He didn't let anyone else in the office as so much look in my direction without coming over to me and pulling me close to him by the waist and giving them a look that says "back off, she's mine" he wasn't possessive, though, which I liked. He knew I was his, but he didn't feel the need to control every aspect of my life.

Jordan was very needy when it came to sex. But that was alright because I was very... giving. I loved pleasing him and he loved pleasing me. Nothing wrong with that.

"Baby girl, I'm going to need to see you in my office at 3 today." He came up to me in the morning and breathed down my neck, which sent shivers down my spine.

"Yes, sir." I smiled. He reached around and grasped one of my breasts before walking off. I love it when he did stuff like that. Casual boob grabs or ass grabs, just so the world knew who I belonged to.

I was actually looking forward to 3 o'clock today, Jordan hadn't fucked me in well over a week, because he'd been on his toes getting the business to new places. I missed it, honestly, I missed his fingers and mouth between my legs, I missed his moans, I missed everything.

Jordan hired me as an accountant a while ago until I got promoted to personal assistant, after a company Christmas party after 9 drinks too many when he figured out my talents extended further than adding up payrolls.

Neither one of us was in a relationship at the time. My body was reserved to him and his to mine, with more often him initiating the foreplay and thereafter the sex.

He knew all my sweet spots I had. Behind the ear, under the chin, in the valley of my breasts, and my lower belly. He knew whenever he put his lips there that I was undoubtedly his. I fell prisoner to his mouth. His lips were soft and his tongue was smooth.

His fingers would make me wet at the slightest touch. He would do this thing where he'd lay me down in his lap, talk to me, curl his fingers inside of me, and then play with strands of my hair with his free hand. Jordan Belfort knew how to please a woman.

2:55

I touched up my makeup before I went to his office, I wanted to look nice for him. We were the kind of people who secretly had feelings for each other, and fucked on a regular basis, but never made it "official".

I showed up to his office a few minutes early, and he was sitting at his desk waiting on me. He smiled a huge smile for me, the kind he did only when he saw me. I smiled back. He took me into his office closet, which was literally just a small room with a couch, a bookcase and some spare things, and it didn't have any windows, so nobody could see us. He locked the door and sat down on the couch.

He patted the spot next to him. "Come here," he said. He was raunchy and aggressive to others but he was really cute and sweet to me. I came and sat beside him, and he started playing with my hair. He grabbed my shoulders and laid me down on his lap and started making circles on my belly with his soft fingertips.

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