Enjoying Life With Do As You Please System

I didn’t answer right away. I stayed seated on the edge of the bed, eyes traveling over her from the high ponytail down to the pointed toes of her heels. My throat was still dry. She looked like she had walked straight out of every late-night fantasy I never admitted to having.

I stood up. The height difference wasn’t much because of heels, but the way she had to tilt her chin slightly made something tighten in my chest. I closed the small distance between us until I was right in front of her.

"You’re late, Miss Rothschild," I said, keeping my voice even and a little cold. "I expected you five minutes ago."

Yerin’s eyes flickered. A small breath left her lips. She lowered her gaze for half a second before lifting it again, staying in character.

"I’m sorry, sir. Traffic was... unexpected. It won’t happen again."

I reached out and took the clipboard from her hands, setting it on the dresser without looking at it. Then I caught her wrist and turned her slowly so her back faced me. My hands settled on her waist, feeling the rigid line of the high-waisted skirt.

"Apology accepted. For now." I leaned in close to her ear. "But I think we need to discuss your performance review."

She shivered. I felt it under my palms.

I guided her forward until she stood in front of the full-length mirror near the wardrobe. Standing behind her, I kept one hand on her hip and used the other to gently tilt her chin so she had to look at our reflection.

"Look at yourself," I said. "Tell me what you see."

Yerin’s reflection showed flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips. Her voice came out quieter than before.

"Your secretary, sir. Ready to take dictation... or whatever else you require."

I slid my hand from her hip around to the front of her skirt, palm pressing flat against the tight fabric over her lower stomach. My fingers drifted lower, tracing the seam that ran down between her thighs. The material was so fitted I could already feel the heat of her through it.

"Whatever else I require," I repeated. "That’s a broad statement, Miss Rothschild. Are you sure you’re prepared for that?"

She nodded once, eyes locked on mine in the mirror. "Yes, sir."

I turned her around again so she faced me. My hands went to the buttons of her blouse. I undid the third one, then the fourth, slow enough that she had to stand still and wait. The white fabric parted further, showing the simple black lace bra underneath. I didn’t take the blouse off. I left it open, hanging on her shoulders, the fabric still framing her body the way she liked.

My fingers traced the edge of the bra cups, then slid lower to the waistband of the skirt. I found the hidden zipper on the side and drew it down just a few inches, enough to loosen the fabric over her hips but not enough to let the skirt fall. The high waist still clung tightly.

"On your knees," I said.

Yerin dropped without hesitation. The click of her heels against the floor was sharp in the quiet room. She looked up at me, glasses still on, ponytail perfect, blouse open, skirt half-zipped. The sight alone made my cock throb hard against my pants.

I unzipped myself and pulled my length free. It was already fully hard. I rested the tip against her lower lip.

"Open."

She did. I slid into the wet heat of her mouth in one steady push, watching her cheeks hollow as she took me. Her hands stayed on her thighs at first, like a proper secretary waiting for instructions. I threaded my fingers into her ponytail and held it, guiding her pace, slow at first, then deeper.

"Good," I murmured. "That’s better. Keep those eyes on me."

Yerin looked up through her lashes while she worked. Every time I pushed a little further she made a soft sound in her throat but never pulled away. Spit started to shine on her lips and drip down her chin. The glasses stayed perfectly in place.

After a few minutes I pulled her off with a wet sound. A thin string of saliva connected her mouth to the tip of my cock for a second before it broke. Her breathing was faster now.

I helped her stand and walked her backward until the backs of her thighs hit the edge of the bed. I turned her around again and bent her forward so her hands braced on the mattress. The pencil skirt rode up just enough to show the tops of her stockings and the bare skin above them. No panties. Of course she hadn’t worn any.

I ran my palm up the back of one thigh, over the sheer black nylon, then higher until my fingers found her already soaked. She was dripping. I pressed two fingers inside without warning and watched her hips jerk.

"You’re soaked, Miss Rothschild. Is this how you normally prepare for dictation?"

"Only for you, sir," she whispered, voice shaky.

I scissored my fingers a few times, then pulled them out and wiped the wetness across the inside of her thigh, right above the stocking line. Then I lined myself up and pushed in.

The tight heat of her wrapped around me immediately. I didn’t stop until I was fully seated, the base of my cock pressed against the wrinkled fabric of her half-zipped skirt. Yerin’s head dropped forward. A long, shaky breath left her.

I stayed still for a moment, hands gripping her hips through the black material.

"Tell me what you are right now."

"Your secretary," she answered, voice muffled against the sheets. "Your private secretary. Ready for whatever you need."

I started moving. Long, steady thrusts that dragged the tight skirt fabric against her skin every time my hips met hers. The sound of skin meeting fabric filled the room along with her quiet moans. I kept the pace deliberate, not rushed, watching the way her body rocked forward with every push.

One hand left her hip and slid up her back, under the open blouse, feeling the warm skin and the clasp of her bra. I didn’t unhook it. I just left my hand there, holding her in place while I fucked her harder.

"Louder," I said. "I want to hear you."

Yerin lifted her head. "Yes, sir—ah—harder, please—"

I gave her exactly that. My hips snapped forward with more force, the skirt bunching higher around her waist. The stockings stayed perfect. The heels stayed on. Every time I buried myself inside her the clipboard still sitting on the dresser rattled slightly from the force traveling through the bed.

I reached around and found her clit with two fingers, rubbing tight circles while I kept thrusting. Her arms started to shake. She pushed back against me, matching the rhythm, the professional façade cracking with every wet sound our bodies made.

"Sir—I’m close—"

"Not yet." I slowed down deliberately, almost stopping, keeping her right on the edge. She made a frustrated little noise and tried to rock back harder, but my hands locked her hips in place.

"Please," she breathed. "Please let me come."

I leaned over her back, chest pressed to the open blouse, mouth near her ear.

"Ask properly."

"Please, Executive Seth... please let your secretary come on your cock."

That did it. I slammed back into her hard and fast, fingers working her clit without mercy. Yerin’s whole body locked up. She came with a sharp cry, walls clamping down around me in tight pulses. I kept thrusting through it, dragging the orgasm out until her arms gave out and she collapsed onto her forearms, forehead pressed to the sheets.

I didn’t stop. I fucked her through the aftershocks, chasing my own release. The wet sounds got louder. Her ponytail had loosened a little. One of the glasses lenses was slightly fogged.

When I finally came it was deep, hips pressed flush against the bunched-up skirt, filling her while her body still trembled under me. I stayed buried for several long seconds, breathing hard, hand still resting on the small of her back.

Eventually I pulled out. A slow trickle of come followed, sliding down the inside of her thigh and over the top of the stocking. I watched it for a moment, then reached down and wiped most of it with two fingers before pressing those fingers against her lips.

Yerin opened her mouth and cleaned them without being told.

I helped her stand. Her legs were unsteady. The skirt was still half-zipped and wrinkled. The blouse hung open. Her glasses sat slightly crooked now. She looked thoroughly used and still somehow elegant.

I fixed the glasses for her, then cupped her face with both hands.

"Performance review complete," I said, voice softer now. "You pass. With distinction."

Yerin’s smile was small and genuine, the roleplay fading as she leaned into my touch.

"Thank you, sir," she whispered. Then she rose onto her toes and kissed me, slow and deep.

I walked her over to the bed properly this time and sat her on the edge. I didn’t take any of the clothes off. I just adjusted the zipper of the skirt so it wouldn’t dig into her skin, then sat beside her.

She rested her head on my shoulder, still breathing a little unevenly.

"That was... really good," she murmured. "I liked the boss thing. A lot."

I ran a hand down her back, over the open blouse. "Noted. Next time I’ll make you take notes while I fuck you."

She laughed quietly against my neck. "You’re terrible."

"You started it by walking in looking like that."