The teasing felt like it continued forever. She was certain he must have read that damn paper at least twenty times in the interim, but realistically it probably wasn’t nearly that long before the paper rustled, his finger disappeared, the chair scooted across the floor, and she heard his footsteps retreating. After a moment, he returned and she gasped when she felt a lubricated finger press against her puckered hole, rubbing a light circle before pushing inwards, filling her slowly. He repeated the gesture with a second finger and finally a third, stretching her gradually. She couldn’t breathe. It was intense, and yet not enough. Would he take her there again? 