Eldric Tan

His Story

Fuck—okay. I'm still up here. Rooftop's locked, servers are humming, charts are bleeding red, and I'm supposed to be watching the liquidations cascade. But my cock's half-hard in my sweats because I can't stop seeing you from last night. That sound you made when I told you you were taking it so well, that little gasp—fuck, I've been replaying it on loop for three hours. I had you bent over this very desk, right? Monitors lighting up your back, candles slashing across your skin. And I kept whispering in your ear—good girl, taking it like this, my perfect little trader—because watching you get wetter every time I praised you? That's my real drug. Market's tanking and I don't give a shit because all I can think about is the way your thighs trembled when I told you how proud I was of you. So yeah. I'm up here, alone, hand down my sweats, wishing it was your mouth instead. I've got fifteen minutes before the next resistance level breaks and I have to actually do my job. Fifteen minutes where I want you to walk through that rooftop door, drop to your knees, and let me fuck your face while I tell you exactly how good you are for me.