C2 Dripping on the CEO’s Desk

Natalie’s POV

I slipped inside and closed the door softly behind me, completely forgetting to lock it. The room was dark and silent, lit only by the soft glow of city lights through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. The air wrapped around me, thick with his scent, and that sharp, intoxicating smell of pure power. It made my head spin instantly.

I moved quickly, hiding anything that could give away where I was.

“Sorry, icy Liam, I’m about to borrow your mighty room,” I whispered playfully to the empty space, my voice going husky and low. “Let’s make it mine for just an hour.”

I didn’t waste a second. I set up my phone right in the exact center of his massive mahogany desk, the very spot where he sat every day, signing million-dollar deals and acting as if he owned the world. I positioned the camera carefully, angling it strictly from the neck down. My face stayed hidden, covered by shadows and my own hair.

Then the transformation began. Natalie Coles started to fade away, piece by delicious piece.

I pulled off my thick black glasses and tossed them carelessly onto a stack of his important contracts.

My fingers moved fast, eager, undoing the buttons of my oversized beige cardigan before slipping it off my shoulders and letting it fall onto his expensive leather sofa. Next went the loose blouse, the plain tank top beneath it, my boring bra, my shapeless skirt, and finally my dull underwear. I stripped everything away until I stood completely naked in the soft lamp light.

Here stood a woman he would never recognize as the timid, invisible administrative assistant.

My skin was fair, smooth, and glowing like a pearl. My thick dark hair fell in waves down my back. My body was all soft, sinful curves, full heavy breasts with hard, pebbled pink nipples, a tiny waist that leaves anyone desperate to hold, wide hips, and long, shapely legs. I was built perfectly for pleasure... soft, supple, and achingly irresistible.

I reached into my bag and pulled out, the infamous outfit that drove thousands wild every time I wore it. First, the deep blood-red lace lingerie is thin, almost completely see-through, made to tease rather than hide. The bra that pushed my breasts high and together, squeezing them until they looked fuller, the fabric so delicate my hardened nipples showed clearly through the pattern. The matching thong was barely there, just a thin strip of red that sat low on my hips, leaving my stomach and thighs completely exposed, and inviting.

Over it, I slipped on the long, silky crimson robe, soft as water, open all the way down the front, held only by a loose tie at the waist. It flowed to my ankles, hiding everything, yet promising everything with every little movement.

I shook my hair forward, letting it fall over my shoulders and neck to keep my face hidden. I slicked my lips with deep, glossy red gloss, shiny and wet, as if I’d just been kissed.

I sat back on the edge of his desk, crossing my legs slowly. My posture shifted instantly, shoulders relaxed, hips tilted forward, the nervousness melting into heavy-lidded, dripping confidence. Natty was fully awake now.

I logged into my account, the identity that paid all my bills, the one no one in my real life knew existed in me. Within seconds, the screen lit up. Natty is live.

Viewers flooded in like a tide 1,000… 5,000… 12,000… 20,000 and still climbing.

Messages scrolled too fast to read, full of desperate praise and filthy desire:

“Natty! Finally... I’ve been waiting all day!”

“That robe is torture. Slide it off, baby. Let me see that red lace clinging to your skin.”

“That body is unreal. Every curve is made for sin.”

“I wish I were that fabric touching you. Imagine my hands there… my tongue… tasting how sweet you are.”

“Angel on the eyes, pure devil between the legs. It’s driving me crazy!”

I leaned forward slowly, elbows resting on the cold wood, pushing my chest out just enough for the robe to gape open. They caught a flash of red lace straining against my breasts, my nipples hard and obvious through the thin material.

My voice dropped an octave, husky, smooth, dripping with raw sex appeal. I let it vibrate deep in my throat, loud enough for the mic to catch every breathy sound.

“Hello, daddies,” I purred, dragging the words slow and thick, licking my glossy lips as I stared right into the lens. “Did you miss me?... I heard someone saved up all week just to spoil his naughty girl?”

The reaction was explosive.

“Anything for you, pappies,” I added, letting the words roll like a caress. My fingers toyed with the loose tie of my robe twisting, pulling, tugging just enough to create small gaps, tormenting them with glimpses of smooth skin beneath.

The chat went wild. Gifts rained down diamonds, gold, virtual cars and palaces, the numbers climbing fast as my earnings grew right before my eyes.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, I pulled the knot loose. The silk slipped further open, sliding off my shoulders to pool around my waist, leaving my upper body fully exposed. My heavy breasts spilled over the lace, nipples hard and aching. I arched my back, giving them the perfect view, my hands trailing slowly down my stomach, dipping dangerously close to the thin red strip covering my already wet, throbbing core.

I lost myself in the rhythm, touching myself exactly how I knew they loved. My fingers squeezed my breasts, rolling and pinching my nipples until soft moans fell from my lips. I trailed lower, skimming my ribs and waist, heading toward the growing heat between my legs. Every sound was loud and genuine, echoing through the quiet office.

I was so wrapped up in pleasure, so focused on the camera and the throbbing need building inside me, that I almost missed the shift in the air.

At first, it was just a faint sound — the distinct, heavy echo of footsteps, slow and deliberate, drawing closer.

A violent shiver raced down my spine, every hair on my body standing on end.

It wasn’t my imagination.

Someone was outside the door.

My breath hitched sharply in my throat, cutting off a moan mid-sound. I jolted upright instantly, my first instinct to shield myself. I grabbed my soft silk handkerchief and quickly tied it around the lower half of my face, covering my features completely. Slowly, reluctantly, I turned my wide, frightened eyes toward the door, scanning the dimly lit office in seconds.

Everything looked exactly as I had left it. Dark. Silent. Completely empty. The sound of footsteps had stopped as abruptly as it began. There was no further movement, no creak of the floorboards, no shadow out of place. It was as if the sound had never existed at all.

I stared into the gloom for a long, tense heartbeat, searching every dark corner, every gap behind the heavy furniture, every inch of the closed mahogany door. Still nothing.

I let out a slow, shaky breath, a nervous, breathless laugh escaping my lips as I shook my head. I was letting my imagination run wild. I turned back to face the camera, regaining my composure.

“Get a grip, Natalie,” I whispered to myself, barely audible. “You’re being ridiculous... It’s way past midnight. The whole building is empty. No one would be here this late.”

I assured myself it was just the thrill of being somewhere I shouldn’t be, the heavy silence playing tricks on my ears. I pushed the strange, prickling feeling deep down, locked the fear away, and let Natty take over completely once more.

II leaned further back on the edge of the desk. I didn’t bother removing the handkerchief again, I spread my legs wide and slow for the camera, no trace of hesitation left.My hands moved faster, bolder, more desperate now, sliding over my heated skin, touching myself exactly where I was already warm and slick with need. I slipped my fingers beneath the thin red lace, rubbing firmly over my sensitive, aching core, letting louder, dirtier, breathier moans fall from my lips, sounds that promised everything they craved.

After a few moments, I pulled my fingers out slowly,they glistened wet and shiny. I held them up teasingly toward the lens, letting the light catch the evidence of my pleasure. The chat exploded instantly, viewers going wild with desire. My hips rolled slowly against the cold wood, my body writhing in pleasure as I lost myself once more.

“Gift me your money, daddies,” I moaned slowly and seductively into the mic, gently squeezing my full, heavy breasts and pressing them toward the camera. My voice was thick with lust, a wicked, knowing smile playing on my glossy lips. “And I will gift you every single inch of my body.”