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beyoncé didn't expect her day to end with her cumming on table, in an office, while an f1 race was happening outside of the building.

beyoncé and michelle were getting ready to head to the f1 race in las vegas.

beyoncé in her custom louis vuitton race suit and black heels.

michelle in black leather pants with a black bandanna hanging from it, a black lace bralette, her custom-made cropped leather jacket with a red "9" embroidered on the back and to match bey's shoes, she wore her custom christian louboutins—a birthday gift from bey.

prior to the race starting they had a whole argument.

chelle didn't care that shawn was there because it was business. it only became an issue once bey started to rub on shawn like he was hers.

michelle sat in her seat, legs crossed, sipping on sir davis, not acknowledging her fiancée's presence.

her mama always told her 'if youn have nothing nice to say, don't say nothing at all.' and she didn't, nor did she want everyone in her business.

everyone around them was so immersed into the race or whatever the person next to them was saying.

so beyoncé took this as a chance to address her wife. she moved closer to michelle, placing a hand on her thigh.

chelle side eyed her wife's hand, before slyly moving it off of her. she didn't feel like being touched right now, besides michelle thought she's done enough touching today.

"don't."

"don't what?"

bey smacked her lips, upset that her lover was still mad at her. "i already apologized, honey, more than once." she pointed out.

she leaned closer to her lover's ear, to avoid anyone overhearing what she's about to say.

"drop the attitude."

"or, what?" michelle challenged.

"or, does daddy have to fix it?"

michelle lowly laughed before gripping her chin. she leaned closer, so close that their lips almost touched. "we both know who's daddy," she said, with a slight grin, before getting up to leave.

after michelle had left out, beyoncé sat there stuck on how the tables had gotten turned. so she got up and followed michelle, needing to be in charge of the situation again.

michelle knew her wife would follow her, so she took her sweet time walking the hallways of the massive building which held multiple suites, one of which kelly's in. she'd probably stop by later on, just to see what she's up to.

her hands touched the ways and she hummed a favorite hymn of hers. as she was just getting to the second part that's when she heard it—her wife's footsteps.

clack.

she could smell her lover's scent from miles away.

though, she wanted to stop so badly just hear her wife apologize again, she thought to have her wife chase her. she wanted her to beg to hear how sorry she is, she wanted her to get on her knees and plead for forgiveness.

so, she sped up her steps and so did beyoncé.

clack.

she heard again. beyoncé was right on her tail, until there was a beat of silence.

michelle turned around confused at the silence, which gave beyoncé the opportunity to pull her into a low-lit room.

michelle stumbled back against the wall, trying to balance herself. beyoncé stood by the now closed door, her arms crossed and her hazel eyes set on her wife.

"you know, i don't like to chase."

"you sure? cus from the way you was following me, i think you do love to chase. hmph, you like doing a lotta shit."

it was obvious that michelle was still affected from what happened earlier. and, she felt as if she had every right to be.

beyoncé is so possessive over her to point where she can't even sit next to her own best friend—who she's known since way before her.

so, for beyoncé to even touch her ex husband in that manner was outright disrespectful.

that's when an idea came.

the taller woman moved closer towards her wife, her hands resting on her hips with every sway.

she towered over her wife, taking in every beauty mark, the way her freckles looked so beautiful on her, the way her plumped lips rested in a soft pout.

her intense gaze wasn't lost on beyoncé, in fact she was looking at her in the same manner.

she loved the way her dark brown eyes looked at her, the mole that rested on her chin, the way that shade of red rested on her lips and how her hair framed her face so perfectly.

beyoncé was so enamored with her wife that it didn't register that she had moved closer to her ear until she heard her sweet raspy voice ring.

"it's like you need to be re-taught on how to keep your hands to yourself, hm?"

she couldn't even ask what she meant by that because, as soon as she thought to ask, the warm feeling of chelle's lips on her neck, made her forget.

bey knew that chelle hated to be ignored. but, in her defense how would you be able to answer a question during this time?

"i asked you a question, giselle, answer it!"

"y-yes."  

chelle gave her neck one last kiss. "sit on the table," she smacked her butt twice, a way to tell her to hurry up and do as asked.

michelle untied the bandanna that was hanging off her pants and wrapped it around beyoncé's wrists, not too tight, just tight enough to keep them in place.

"you gon be a good girl and listen, right?" 

beyoncé nodded.

she knew exactly what she was doing and was satisfied that her plan was falling into place. she missed had missed michelle, she craved to be punished.

it was something about how sexy michelle is when taking control.

it wasn't lost on michelle that she missed her, she just wanted her to use her words.

michelle began to suck on bey's bottom lip, each pull she let go with a pop. as, her hands were occupied with unzipping her wife's pants.

her right hand slid down, she could feel the warmth of her wife and how wet she already was. it didn't take much for either of them to wet for one another.

in-fact they stayed in heat for each other.

"damn, this all for me?"

bey nodded frantically, with her desperate gaze locked into chelle's hunger of a gaze. michelle felt as if they had enough foreplay. she coated her thumb in beyoncé's wetness and started to rub tight circles on her clit.

but it wasn't enough for bey, she wanted to feel chelle in her.

she needed to feel her.

bey's hips thrusted, silently begging for more.

"use your big girl words."

"i want you in me, please."

"you can beg better than that."

bey groaned. "please, baby, please put your fingers inside me. i need you."

chelle happily obliged, groaning rom how warm and tight she felt. she could never get enough of that feeling.

with each thrust of her fingers, beyoncé's hips met. michelle loved that sound—the sound of how wet her wife gets for her.

she could feel beyoncé getting closer towards her climax and sped up. from the changed pace bey's eyes rolled back and she let out a deep groan.

"tell me how sorry you are."

michelle continued to sped up after not getting a response. her free hand reached up and gripped bey's neck, "c'mon, tell daddy how sorry you are."

bey let out a grunt, it was like the words were being fucked out of her. "i'm so sorry, i'm so fucking sorry." her body was trying to catch her climax, while her mind wanted to tell michelle to slow down.

but it felt so good.

too good.

the way chelle's slender fingers felt inside of her, the way each stroke was powerful than the last, how she held her, how her voice sounded in her ear, it was too much.

it was like an emotional dam was about to break.

"please, daddy, can i cum?" bey begged as tears fell from eyes.

michelle hummed, "go ahead, you deserve it."

beyoncé moaned loudly gripping onto michelle's jacket as her orgasm ripped through her and tears continued to fall.