Kiss My Feet Emily #5
"Every day I go home to a marriage where I am expected to be small. Submissive. The perfect, quiet wife who bows to her husband’s every whim. I love him, but it suffocates me. I have a fire in me, Emily, a need to control, to rule, to possess... and the moment you walked into this firm,
I knew you were the one who could handle it."
Emily looked up, her blue eyes shining with tears of pure devotion and understanding. She felt a profound, overwhelming surge of affection for the older woman. "Let me have it all, Kaitlyn. Don't hold back. Give me everything you can't have at home."
A fierce, passionate hunger ignited in Kaitlyn’s hazel eyes. "I intend to."
Kaitlyn gripped Emily’s waist and lifted her effortlessly, guiding her back onto the smooth, wide surface of the mahogany desk. Emily laid back on the cool wood, her legs spreading wide naturally, her bare feet dangling off the edge.
Kaitlyn climbed onto the desk between Emily’s thighs, settling her knees on either side of the girl's hips. The heat radiating from between Kaitlyn’s legs was palpable; she was completely drenched, her own desire fully awakened by the raw intimacy of the confession.
Kaitlyn leaned down, her mouth slamming into Emily’s for a ferocious, deeply possessive kiss.
Their tongues tangled in a wild, uninhibited rhythm, all professional decorum burned to ash.
At the same time, Kaitlyn’s hand slid down between Emily’s legs, her fingers sinking deep into the slick, creamy warmth of her pussy.
Emily screamed into the kiss, her hips bucking upward as Kaitlyn began to ruthlessly pump three fingers inside her, her thumb heavily grinding against Emily's swollen clitoris. The wet, friction-heavy sounds of their coupling echoed loudly in the quiet room.
"Kaitlyn... oh god, Kaitlyn!" Emily cried out, her head thrashing against the hard wood of the desk. She reached down, her bare feet rising to press against Kaitlyn’s firm thighs, her toes curling tightly into her manager’s skin as the intensity built to an unbearable pitch.
Kaitlyn didn't slow down. She used her other hand to pin Emily’s wrists above her head, locking her into place, forcing her to endure the sheer, overwhelming power of her touch. "Take it, Emily. Let it break you open. Show me how much you can handle for me."
Emily’s vision blurred as a massive, tidal wave of pleasure began to build in her lower abdomen.
The combination of Kaitlyn's dominant weight pressing down on her, the memory of the discipline, and the deep, relentless thrusting of her fingers was too much.
Her internal walls clamped down with frantic, violent spasms as a shattering orgasm took hold of her, her body arching completely off the desk in a spectacular, breathless release.
The final echoes of Emily’s release slowly dissolved into the quiet room, leaving her completely limp on the cool mahogany desk.
Her breath came in shallow, ragged hitches, and her skin was covered in a fine sheen of sweat that glistened under the desk lamp.
Above her, Kaitlyn remained perched between her thighs, her breathing equally disordered, her chest heaving as she looked down at the absolute surrender pinned beneath her.
Slowly, Kaitlyn released her grip on Emily’s wrists, her long fingers instead tracing a soft path down Emily’s forearms, over her ribcage, and resting flat against her pounding heart.
"Look at you," Kaitlyn whispered, a rare, vulnerable softness coloring her dominant tone. "Completely unraveled."
Emily opened her heavy lids, her blue eyes glassy but filled with a profound, unshakeable devotion. "Because you unraveled me."
Kaitlyn shifted her weight, sliding off the desk and back onto her bare feet.
The cool air of the office immediately rushed over Emily’s damp skin, making her shiver slightly.
But before the chill could fully set in, Kaitlyn reached out, wrapping her arms around Emily’s waist and pulling her gently off the desk.
Emily’s legs were like lead, entirely unstable on the carpet, forcing her to lean heavily into Kaitlyn’s naked body.
They stood together in the center of the dark office, surrounded by the debris of their secret life! Discarded silk, ruined hosiery, and a stained white blouse huddled in the corner. Kaitlyn smoothed Emily’s tangled blonde hair behind her ears, her gaze dropping to the younger woman’s face.
"Tomorrow morning, this door opens at eight," Kaitlyn said, her voice regaining a fraction of that familiar, sharp corporate edge, though her eyes remained fiercely possessive.
"The partners will be here. The interns will be buzzing. I will be Mrs. Vance, your senior manager, and you will be the new hire handling the quarterly audits."
Emily swallowed hard, the reality of the corporate world gently intruding on their sanctuary. "I know."
"But the moment that clock strikes seven, and the bullpen goes dark," Kaitlyn continued, her thumb pressing firmly against Emily’s bottom lip, pulling it down slightly, "you belong right here. On your knees, or on this desk. Whatever I require of you."
A deep, warm flush rose from Emily’s chest to her cheeks. The thought of navigating the professional, clinical environment of the firm all day while carrying the secret weight of Kaitlyn's ownership made her pulse race with a thrill that was entirely addictive.
"I want that," Emily whispered firmly, cementing the terms of their unspoken arrangement. "I want to be your perfect employee during the day, and whatever you need me to be at night."
Kaitlyn’s eyes darkened with satisfaction. She leaned down, pressing one last, deep, lingering kiss to Emily’s lips—a silent seal on their pact.
Slowly, the two women began the quiet ritual of cleaning up.
They dressed in silence, the rustle of fabric replacing the wet, passionate sounds of the hours before.
Emily slid back into her pleated skirt and pulled a spare sweater from her own bag, carefully avoiding letting the fabric rub too hard against the deep, sensitive crimson welts on her bottom.
Every micro-movement brought a sharp, stinging reminder of the leather portfolio, a delicious ache that she knew would accompany her all through tomorrow's meetings.
Finally, Emily stepped back into her black leather pumps. She looked down at her feet, now bare inside the shoes without her ruined nylons, her pale-pink painted toes hidden away once more behind a wall of corporate leather.
Kaitlyn stood by the door, completely dressed in her spare slacks and a fresh blouse, the image of poise and untouchable authority restored. She reached out and flipped the heavy brass lock, opening the door to the dark, empty hallway of Miller & Associates.
"Get some rest, Emily," Kaitlyn said, her voice once again carrying the cool, professional distance of a manager addressing her staff. "We have a lot of work to do tomorrow."
Emily stepped out into the hallway, a small, knowing smile playing at the corner of her lips as she looked back over her shoulder. "Goodnight, Ms. Vance."
"Goodnight, Emily."
As the heavy oak door closed behind her, Emily walked down the quiet corridor, the click of her heels echoing through the empty firm. Tax season was only just beginning, and for the first time in her life, Emily couldn't wait for the late nights to come.
Still thinking about the last story?
Keep that feeling close. You're going to need it for what's coming next.