Mondays aren't all bad, especially when he is making up with you

Last Friday, on Skype, my guy and I were talking about an e-mail that he had sent out. I had a feeling that his request would make me do more work. Sure enough, I ended up with more work on my plate to complete.

Our boss had asked my guy to create a software trouble ticket. He did on Monday. It ended up being assigned to me. I told my guy. He apologized and felt bad about the entire situation. To resolve the issue, it is nice that I have a couple of writers on board to help me out these days. I assigned the ticket to one of them.

For nearly a year now, I have been doing the workload of a team of three to four people. Although I am not as stressed as I used to be, I am still doing more work than I should.

I could tell that my guy wanted to make it up to me for adding more work to my to-do list. He wanted a meeting in our treehouse to fix things. I agreed.

We met in our usual place and climbed into the treehouse. My guy didn't waste any time. He asked how I was and then kissed me. It was quite a powerful kiss filled with tons of emotion.

We briefly stopped kissing. I joked that he wouldn't let me respond to his question. I do like when he does that. We said that we were both fine and continued kissing. I unbuttoned his shirt and gently stroked his chest.

He went for my breasts, playing with them, and then taking them carefully out of my black bra. He loves caressing them, stimulating my nipples by twisting them gently. He then pinched my nipples hard, which got me excited.

He pulled my left leg over his lap. He whispered in my ear.

"Are you wearing those lacy, black panties?" he asked me.
"Maybe," I said, teasing him a bit.
"Are you being a fortune cookie, where I need to find out how lucky I will be today?" he said in a cute, cheesy way.
"I guess so," I admitted, with a smile on my face.

We both unzipped and unbuttoned my pants. I then pulled them down. We were in different positions than normal. We were facing each other. I was reclined, with my leg still on his lap.

My guy has magical hands. He played with my pussy, fingering me. I was well-lubricated from being so aroused. He also fingered my butt. He told me that I was his slut. I felt like I was one.

"Do you want another finger up your ass?" he asked me.
"Yes, please," I said.
"I'm not going to do that just yet," he said firmly.
"I don't like you. That's unfair."
"Do you mean that?" he asked me.
"I don't know," I said, clearly in a pleasurable state of mind, which made him laugh.

I eventually came and remained reclined. I was relaxed and felt limp, but I was completely content.

My guy looking at me sweetly.

"You know, I love that you give me VIP access to your pussy," he said.
"You're worth it," I replied. "And a backstage pass, too."
"Yes," he smiled. "You do know that you are the only person that I have fingered up the ass."
"I am honoured," I replied, which made us both smile.

He continued to look at me. It was a different look in his eyes than I never have seen.

"Who would have known that the goody-goody employee that everyone sees would be posing in this provocative position in the backseat, allowing me to have my way with her," he said to me. "I got to see your clit and how pink it is."
"I'm glad you had a good view," I said with a smile on my face.
"I love your panties," he said, stroking the "cute mountain area," as my guy calls it.
"That feels good," I admitted.

I rested for a bit. My guy continued chatting with me.

"Do you want to get dopey? Today is all about you."
"What about you?" I asked him about pleasuring him.
"What you did to me on Friday will sustain me," he admitted.
"That was a wonderful day," I said. He agreed.

He went back to pleasuring me a second time. At one point, I called him mean because he asked me if I wanted another finger in my pussy. I did, but he refused.

"Do you know what happens when you disrespect me?"
"I do," I admitted.
"Tell me."
"I get punished," I replied.

He agreed. He started to scold me and slapped my left cheek. I loved it. I turned my head and let my guy slap my right cheek. He told me that I was a whore and that he determines what happens to me. I agreed and obeyed.

Whenever I am about to reach orgasm in his car, I have the inclination to grab something. I am often grabbing my guy's thigh. On Monday, I ended up squeezing the headrest twice. Both times that I came, they were intense. The second one tends to get me into dopey mode and this day was no different. I was extremely limp afterward. My guy does good work.

We hugged and kissed a bit more.

"I'll work on you next time," I reassured him.
"I know that there will always be a next time with you," he said, hugging me tightly.

My guy is sweet. We both got out of the car and he groped my right buttock. I love when he does that. He then held my hand and walked me to my car, to make sure that I was okay. We hugged and kissed a bit more before we parted.

He's good at making up with me. I'm glad that he did.