Chapter 1: Introduction
The air in the Commissioner's office was thick with the scent of aged leather and expensive cologne. The room was a grand display of power and prestige, much like the man who inhabited it. I sat across from him, legs crossed casually, my eyes meeting his gaze with a confidence that bordered on audacity. I knew what I was here for, and I wasn't about to let a little intimidation or decorum get in my way. After all, Mamba doesn't back down from a challenge.
Commissioner Harrison leaned back in his chair, his eyes appraising me like a piece of art. I was in my dress blues he offered me a cigar which I accept . His eyes linger on my curves a bit too long, but I'm used to it. Men have been staring at me like this since I hit puberty.
"Mamba," he begins, his voice a low rumble, "You're a piece of work, you know that?"
I take a puff of the cigar, blowing a ring of smoke into the air. "Is that a compliment, sir?"
He chuckles, a sound that fills the room. "It's an observation. You've got a...unique way of getting things done."
I shrug, a playful smirk on my lips. "What can I say?
I believe in using all the tools at my disposal." I uncrossed my legs, giving him a better view, and watched as his eyes flicked down for a split second. "Besides, I get results. Isn't that what matters?"
He took a sip of his whiskey, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Results are important, Mamba. But so is discretion. This office isn't a place for...indiscretions."
I raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. "Indiscretions? Sir, I've always been discreet." I get up and sit on his desk crossing my legs he does not bother to pretend like he isn't enjoying the view . "And besides, what's the use of having a beautiful body if you can't use it to your advantage every now and then?" I say, giving him a wink.
He takes another sip of his whiskey, his eyes never leaving mine. "You're playing a dangerous game, Mamba. You know that, right?"
I lean in closer, my voice low and seductive. "I like dangerous games, sir. They're the ones that keep life interesting."
He puts down his glass, his voice serious. "Alright, Mamba. You want a raise? You'll get it. But this isn't a game to me." Even as he says that he begins to stroke my legs with his left and I can see his wedding ring on it as she strokes my thigh he is not the first married man I have slept with he will not be the last . I just smile at him as I say, "I'm not playing, sir. I know what I want, and I'm not afraid to go after it."
He puts his hand on my knee and I can feel the heat of his touch through my pants. I know he's not just trying to scare me off. He's interested. I can see the way his eyes flicker over my body, lingering on my curves. He's a married man, but that doesn't mean he's dead.
"This department isn't a place for...fraternization," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
But his hand on my knee speaks volumes, tracing small circles that send shivers up my spine. I lean in closer, my voice husky. "Who says I'm fraternizing, sir? I'm just...negotiating."
He lets out a low laugh, a sound that's almost a growl. "You're a piece of work, Mamba. You know that?"
I smile, running my fingers through his hair. "And you love it, don't you?"
He leans in, his breath hot on my ear. "You're dangerous, Mamba." I take a drag of the cigar making a show of it as I let the smoke out slowly. "I like that in a woman." He whispers in my ear, his voice low and husky. I can feel his breath on my neck, sending goosebumps down my spine.
I turn my head slightly, our lips almost touching. "Dangerous is my middle name, sir." I tease, my voice a low purr.
He puts his hand on my waist, pulling me closer. "Is that so?" He murmurs, his thumb tracing small circles on my skin. I can feel the heat of his body, the strength in his grip. It's intoxicating.
I nod, my breath hitching slightly. " You are younger than my daughter," he said I straddled his lap putting the cigar in an ashtray on his desk "Does that mean you want me to call you Daddy during?" I joked, my voice teasing, but my eyes serious. He groaned, a deep sound from the back of his throat, and I could feel his body responding to mine.
"You're playing with fire, Mamba," he said, his voice low and gruff.
I leaned in, my lips brushing against his. "I like fire, sir. It's hot, it's dangerous, and it burns slow." I whispered, my eyes locked on his. He swung his chair around so that I was in between him and the desk. His hands roamed over my body, exploring every curve, every line. He began to undo the buttons of my dress uniform coat , slowly, deliberating, as if savoring each reveal. I let out a low moan, the anticipation driving me wild.
"You're a tease, sir," I murmured, my lips brushing against his as I spoke. "I thought you wanted to negotiate?"
He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "I'm a man who likes to take his time, Mamba. Besides, I like to make sure I'm getting my money's worth."
I grinned, my hands sliding up his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his dress shirt. "Oh, you'll get your money's worth, sir." I lean in and whisper in his ear "Daddy" just to see the reaction. He groans again, his grip on my hips tightening. I can feel his heart racing, the beat matching mine. I grind against him, a slow, sensual movement, and he lets out a low growl.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Mamba," he repeats, his breath coming in ragged gasps. I can see the internal struggle in his eyes, the battle between desire and duty. But I also see the desire winning.
"What's the use of living if you don't take risks every now and then?" I ask, my voice a low purr. I slide off his lap unzip his pants and pull them down he is so hard for me already I can see the outline of his cock through his boxers.
He groans, throwing his head back against the chair. "You're going to be the death of me, Mamba."
I smile, running my fingers along the length of him, teasing him through the fabric. "But what a way to go."
He lets out a low laugh, but it's strained, his body tense with anticipation. "You're not playing fair."
I shrug, my fingers tracing the tip of him, feeling him twitch beneath my touch. "All's fair in love and war, sir. And this... I pull down his boxers his cock is average nothing to write home about but not anything to complain about either "Does Daddy want me to suck him" I purr as I wrap my fingers around him and stroke him slowly. He lets out a low groan, his head falling back against the chair. "Yes..." he manages to get out, his voice strained. I smile, running my tongue along the tip of him, tasting the salt of his skin. I take him into my mouth, slowly at first, feeling him harden beneath my tongue. He groans again, his hands fisting in my hair, guiding me, urging me on. I can feel him getting harder, thicker, as I take him deeper into my throat, my head bobbing up and down, my tongue swirling around him. "Is Daddy enjoying?"
I ask, looking up at him with hooded eyes. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to regain control.
"Yes," he manages to say, his voice hoarse. "But I want more than this, Mamba."
I smile, slowing down my movements, teasing him. "And what exactly do you want, sir?"
He leans forward, his eyes intense. "I want you. All of you."
I hum around him, dragging my teeth lightly along his shaft. He groans, his hips bucking slightly. I pull off him completely, standing up to give him a better view. He stands up and pushes me back on to his desk he reaches up my skirt and pulls down my thong tossing it aside and before I know it he is fucking me on his desk .
He's rough, demanding, and I love it. His hands grip my hips, guiding me as he thrusts into me, hard and fast. I can feel the edge of his desk digging into my back, but I don't care. All I care about is the feeling of him inside me, filling me, claiming me.
I wrap my legs around him, meeting his thrusts with my own, our bodies moving in perfect sync. I can feel the pleasure building, a slow burn that starts in my core and radiates outward.
"Call me Daddy now" he groans, his voice strained.
The raw, primal command sends a shiver down my spine. I lean up, capturing his mouth in a fierce kiss, my hands fisting in his hair.
"Daddy," I moan against his lips, the word tasting sweet and dirty on my tongue. I feel his body stiffen, then release, as he lets the title wash over him like a balm.
But I don't want to be just a plaything. I want to be seen, to be heard, to be appreciated. I want to be more than just a pawn in his game.
I break the kiss, my hands still tangled in his hair. "Tell me, Daddy. Do you like it" I ask him as he pumps up from his chair his hands on my breasts now "Do you like how I feel, how I taste?" I lean in to whisper this in his ear, my voice a low purr. I can feel his heart racing, his breath hot on my neck. He groans, his hips thrusting faster, deeper.
"Yes," he manages to say, his voice strained. "You feel...incredible."
I smile, my hands tracing the muscles of his chest, feeling them tense and release with each thrust. "Good. Because I want you to remember this. Remember how good it feels to be with me. Remember how much you want me."
He lets out a low growl, his hands tightening on my hips. "Are you my Daddy?" my voice goes breathy and a little high-pitched as he hammers me against the desk. The pace of his thrusts becomes faster and more desperate. "Your little girl, here to please you. Is that what you want, Daddy?" I coo, stroking his cheek with one hand.
He lets out another one of those deep, guttural growls, his eyes locked onto mine. "Fuck yes," he manages to groan out, his hips moving even faster. "Fuck yes, you're my little girl. My dirty little girl."
I bite my lip, enjoying the sensation of being dominated, of being used. It's a heady feeling, and I can feel myself getting close. "Am I getting the raise Daddy?" I ask him breathlessly, my body tense with anticipation. He grins, a wicked, satisfied smile that makes my heart race.
"You drive a hard bargain, little girl," he says, his voice low and husky. "But yes, you're getting your raise."
I grin back at him, my body tensing as I feel my orgasm building. "Fuck, Daddy," I moan, my nails digging into his shoulders. "Right there, don't stop."
He grins again, his hips moving faster, harder, chasing his own release. "Come for me, little girl," he commands, his voice authoritative.
"Show me what a good little girl you are."
His words send me over the edge. I throw my head back, a scream tearing from my throat as waves of pleasure crash over me. I can feel him tense, his body stiffening as he finds his own release, his hips stuttering against mine.
We stay like that for a moment, our bodies entwined, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. Slowly, he pulls out of me, and I let out a soft moan of protest. He chuckles, a low, satisfied sound.
I stand, and my knees I must admit are a little wobbly who would have thought the old man had it in him I pick up the cigar and relight it enjoying the taste after my orgasm making sure to make it look good for him. I clean up a bit and put my uniform back together again, taking care to fix my hair and makeup. I look at him, a smug smile on my face.
“So, about that raise, sir,” I say, my voice playful but with a hint of seriousness.
He buttons up his pants and straightens his shirt, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” he says, a small smile playing on his lips.
“When have I ever?” I say, blowing a smoke ring towards him.
“True,” he says, walking over to his desk and sitting down.