An Office Affair 9

Much as I hate staying late at work, I hate going home even more. At least it's quiet when everyone else has left. The phones have stopped ringing, the faxes are still, there are no assistants knocking at my door. It'll just be me as usual. God I need a drink.

As I cross to the small stash of liquor I keep in my desk, I look out along the long row of cubicles and notice the dark head bent over a computer. Greg - hard at work. I forgot for a moment that I had asked you to help finish the Brubaker project. The thing was proving to be a bitch.

I pour myself a healthy splash of bourbon and raise it to my lips. The heat slides down my throat like a smooth flame, warming me from the inside out. I really shouldn't drink this stuff, it goes straight to my head and gives me ideas. I stand in the doorway watching you work. I can only see the top of your head from here, but my mind fills in the rest. Don't think I haven't noticed you. From our very first interview you have starred secretly in my dreams. I've pictured your large hands smoothing down over my body as you lay me down onto my desk, slowly pulling off my conservative suit. Kissing my...

Wait a minute, my desk? These dreams always take place on a beach or someplace wonderful, not in my office! I open my eyes and realize that I've been standing at the open door fantasizing about a man not 50 feet from me. A younger handsome man who thinks I'm attractive. I've seen the way he looks at me during client meetings and project brainstorming huddles. It's the reason I've started wearing tighter skirts and blouses.

Yep, the drink has gone straight to my head, and I think a little farther south. I toss back the rest and walk back to the bottle to pour another measure for myself. I also take out another glass.

They say you should never drink alone.

Without turning, I call out your name. "Greg, why don't you come in here and take a break?"

A moment later, still facing the window, I feel you come up behind me. I can feel the heat from your body - you smell delicious. I turn to find you standing so very close. A shiver runs down my spine. The thoughts chasing through my brain are so wrong yet so...well...delicious. I truly just want to eat you up.

I hand you the glass and gesture to the amber bottle. "Have a drink and come sit with me", I tell you, "we both need to relax for a bit." I move away as I speak, I've got to put a little space between us before I jump you where you stand. The sight of you in front of that desk is giving me ideas. Is it wrong to want to grab your face and kiss the life out of you? To run my nails down the front of that starched white shirt? With the jacket off I can see how broad your chest is, how wide your shoulders are. Your biceps are huge. I'll bet they could hold me against the wall for hours

I'm gonna get fired, I know it! I must have slept through that inservice on sexual harassment and I've probably imagined the way you look at me. Hell, I'm sure you think I'm a bitch. An old bossy bitch.

I lean back against the cushions of my leather couch and watch as you cross the room to join me. So I get fired, who cares! If I don't at least get to touch you, I'll combust.

As you sit down beside me and turn to watch the sunset, I try to decide how to proceed - do I just tell you what I want? Do I ask you to please, please touch me? Crap, I've forgotten how to do this. I've been stuck with a shit of a husband for so long, that the flirty/sexy part of me that I need now has died. Though apparently my hormones still work, 'cause I'm having a hot flash. Either that or it's early menopause.

I figure that I might as well try to cool this heat a little and take my suit jacket off, after-all, you had ditched yours. No need to be stuffy after hours. I swivel on my seat to partially face you and open my mouth to start a conversation but my mind freezes. You have a dazed expression on your face and are staring at my chest. I glance down thinking that I've no doubt dribbled bourbon on my blouse or something. But the only thing I notice is that the top three buttons are undone, the light from the windows has made the fabric kinda see-through, and you are staring at my breasts. My nipples tighten as I watch you watching me.

I shift a little more in my seat and recross my legs. Slowly. Your eyes now fix on the sight of the skin visible above my stockings when my skirt pulls tight. Your nostrils flare and I see the tip of your tongue sweep along your lower lip as if you are tasting something sweet. I can give you sweet, I think to myself, and a whole lot more.

I rub my hand along the inner curve of my upper leg and lean towards you while I rest my other arm and the still icy glass on the back of the sofa. This pulls my shirt open a bit more, and I feel another button go. Your eyes dart back to my chest and fasten on the scalloped edge of my bra that now peeks out from the opening. Poor baby, is the big bad boss too much to handle? Not to worry, I'll take care of your handle. Ooo, did I just think that? Hell, yes.

"So Greg, how do you like this so far?"

Your eyes jerk up to mine and widen. Surely I'm not asking what you think I'm asking!

"Working downtown was quite a change for you wasn't it?" I see your muscles visibly relax, and I think you answer me, but I'm not really listening. I'm plotting my next move. How can I get you to actually touch me? I notice the drink still in my hand. Man I hate to waste good whiskey, and it's a high school boy's trick, but...I take a last gulp (for courage) and spill the rest down my blouse and onto my lap. "Oh my god, I can't believe I just did that, what a klutz".

I sit up straighter and uncross my legs so that my knees are apart just a wee bit more than they should be as I rub my hand down over my wet shirt as if to wipe away the mess. Of course this just molds it to my chest, my lacy red bra now clearly visible, my nipples more obvious. You hurry into the attached bathroom to grab a towel, and kneel in front of me to begin wiping at my wet clothes. Your movements are fast and efficient at first. I think you are actually trying to help. But by the third pass you seem to realize just what you're wiping at and suddenly slow.

Now your hand, and of course the towel, is gently stroking over the same section of damp shirt, over and over. It just happens to be the section over my right breast. Your eyes are glued to the action of your hand and the re-action of my nipple as it hardens even more. My breathing becomes shallow as I try not make a sound. I don't want to wake you from this trance you seem to be under. You might stop!

The towel drops from your slackening grip and falls to my lap, yet you don't seem to notice and are now taking the same route with just your hand. Once. Twice. Your fingers stroke past my nipple again and again, as you unconsciously move closer and press against my knees. I spread my legs wider apart to allow you. I'm biting my lip at this point in agony. My head kicks back and a small moan escapes from my throat. I feel your hand pause mid pass, the palm dead center on that now throbbing nip. Yes, throbbing.

I open my eyes and glance back down at your face. The expression is intense and unapologetic. We stay that way, staring into each others eyes, till I cup your face and nod yes. "Please", I whisper.

Your hand tightens almost painfully and you surge upright to kiss me, as your free hand buries itself in my hair to tilt my face, and pin me in place. The buckle of your belt hooks onto the edge of my skirt, and as you rise higher on your knees, it is dragged upwards until it leaves the uncovered tops of my thighs exposed. Your hips press closer and I can feel the ridge of your erection against the center of my body. The thin scrap of underwear is all that separates the hardness rubbing against me as you rock your hips in sync with the thrusting of your tongue into my open mouth. Oh yeah, that underwear and your pants! Lets not forget your pants. Or the fact that I have hands that can remove said pants.

As you continue to eat at my mouth, I finally move those hands and run them up your arms and over your shoulders. I have a specific goal in mind but figure I might as well take the full tour on the way down. I use this opportunity to actually do one of the things I had wanted to do, and scrape my nails down the front of your shirt, hard.

You pull away from my lips and gasp at the sensation. In retaliation, you grind the growing bulge in your pants up against my crotch. Now it's my turn to gasp and I grow wet with a rush. I let go of your shirt and slump back on the sofa. Forget the damn pants, give me more of that. My new position pushes my breasts upwards and you bend over me to lick at my nipple right through the shirt as you continue grinding against me.

"Greg! Please! You're killing me!" I moan as I try to pull you closer with my knees at your hips. But you reach back and grab my legs, pulling them up and apart till you can just hook the heel of my 3 inch red pumps onto the edge of the leather seat. Ok, now I'm bent in two like a pretzel. I also suddenly feel very exposed and move to unfold my legs back to a more normal position, but can't. The way you've set me up prevents the heels from slipping past the lip of the cushions and I'm stuck. On display.

I blush as you lean back to finally look at what you've revealed. Apparently, now I'm gonna be shy. You sink back down on your knees before me, just looking. I wonder at the thoughts going through your mind. Your eyes seem to devour me as your hands slide along my inner thighs. Those hands stop to run a finger along the skin just above my stocking. It's a light touch but still my thighs quiver. Your palms glide over this baby smooth skin to the top, where my leg joins my pelvic cradle. Your fingers run back and forth over the lace at the very edge of my matching red silk panties. I hold my breath. Inside my mind I'm chanting "please yes, please yes" over and over. At last you move.

Your head dips forward and you lay a kiss on the little bow at the top of the waistband. Your fingers are now running just under the lace, the pads light on my skin. I'm shaking with anticipation.

The next kiss is lower, at the crest of my pubic bone. I whine at the touch. Your fingers move inward, farther under the edging. I whine again and bite my lip. Your head rears back and you focus on my face. Though your fingers are still moving, still rubbing, you've stopped the kisses and are just looking at me. Waiting.

"Tell me what you want", you growl, "say the words. Tell me how to please you".

"Please. Keep going" I'm begging now.

"No. No please. No polite. No coy. Just say it", your fingers dig into the meat of my labia and pull sideways, opening me slightly. My panties are still on. "Tell me what you you want. I need to know you're aware that it's me your asking". I feel a rush of wetness ooze onto the red silk. Could I really do this? Really tell this amazing man that I've secretly lusted after what to do to me? Could I not?

I take a breath... "I want you to eat me. I want you to lick my entire body. I want you to touch every part of me and then I want you to fuck me till I can't stand. I want you to make me scream till I'm hoarse, then I want you to do it all again".

The smile on your face was a joy to behold as you ripped off my panties and told me, "I thought you'd never ask my beautiful boss. I thought you'd never ask".

I was lost the minute you ducked down and, for the first time, put your mouth to my pussy and ate me raw.

"Oh sweet Heaven above", I moan as you settle between my legs to drive me mad. This may very well kill me.

It's been so long since I've been touched by anything other than my own hand. I've forgotten the emotion that comes from the feeling of someone's tongue dipping deep into my core before sweeping up to flick at my clit. The shock of a finger, no wait now two, reaching to curl over that elusive spot so oft believed a myth. My own fingers grasp at my nipple, tugging and rubbing. My other hand holds the back of your head, your dark hair soft and thick to my touch. My hips jerk involuntarily as you do something that sends vibrations through the bundle of nerves that is my clit. I pull harder at my breast and feel your hand close over the other one to squeeze and press. I'm so freaking wet I think I'm leaking and the vague thought runs through my mind that I'm glad this thing is leather. What can I say - I'm a girl.

Through the fog of my pleasure I hear you comment but don't really hear the words.

The draft on my lower body lets me know that I'm naked from the waist down. I didn't even notice you pulling off my skirt! Your fingers twist inside me and I reach to grab your head with both hands, pushing you closer, your mouth deeper. My head thrashes side to side on the cushions as you lick and suck and nibble at my weeping pussy. A hand moves from its grip on my ass cheek to run the fingers over the strip of dark blond hair just above where your mouth is working. You pet me there briefly before pressing down and pulling the skin up to expose more of my swollen clitoris to your flicking tongue. I'm so close. Tremors radiate from my pussy. I move my hands back to my breasts and just squeeze, my fingers digging into the soft flesh. That small bit of pain adds to the mounting arousal. Moans come almost continuously from my throat. So close.

You suck me into your mouth and set your teeth against the nub to bite down lightly just as you add a third finger to those buried inside me. The longer middle one presses against my G spot and I cum with a shout. The sound loud in the big office.

You gentle your touch as the walls of my pussy ripple around the fingers still in place. Your tongue laps at the cream that wells out around them.

Once I've settled, you pull away, laying one last kiss against the heart of me. You reach to unhook my heels and lower my feet back to the floor. Your hands run along my thighs which are lying boneless on the cushions. I'm too relaxed to care that they're spread wide open. Your palms sweep up further, over my garter belt to the bottom edge of my shirt. The buttons give one by one till you can spread it open and peel it away from my bra. The damp fabric sticks to my skin as you slowly pull it off. The spill of liquor hadn't had time to dry. My shirt joins the heap that is my skirt and panties on the floor.

You stroke over the silk covering my breasts before pulling the cups down to cradle them. This pushes them up like an offering. Your thumbs flick over and over my nipples. Pulling and pinching till they are cherry red and hard as pebbles. Your tongue licks from one to the other. Suckling and kissing and licking each in turn, till I start to shift restlessly, that intense feeling building in me again. But much as I could let you do this all day, I want to have a chance to touch you. To see your body without its corporate wrappings. So I pry your mouth away from my breast and bring your face up for a kiss. "I need to see all of you", I say against your lips, "I want to taste you too".

My hands slide down over your pecs still hidden by that damn undershirt. I pull it off to get at the chest underneath. My hands continue exploring, over those well defined pecs and your tight dusky nipples that harden as I pass. I lean down to kiss and lick each one. Now it is you who holds the back of my head closer, and I shift forward on the sofa to get nearer. My fingertips run along the ridges of your tight abs. I watch the muscles tighten as I follow the trail of dark hair that disappears into your pants, which of course is where I want to be. I ask you to stand up for me and look up as you stand so tall between my naked thighs. I stroke the large bulge now at eye level as I reach for your belt and quickly undo it. The button is next though I slow down as I pull at the zipper. It opens so easily. The teeth are already being pulled apart from the pressure behind. I find another barrier. What's with all the underwear dammit, I need to touch you! I let your pants fall to the floor and you balance with the hand on my head to kick them off your feet. I notice that you must have taken off your shoes and socks at some point. I scrape the tops of my nails up your muscled thighs and hook my fingers in the band of your black boxer briefs. Your fingers clench at my head in anticipation. I look into your eyes as I pull the briefs down till you spill out into my face and I refocus on your big cock. I forget about the fabric I'm holding and reach to hold something else. You.

"Woof".

I realize I've said that out loud when you quietly chuckle. But I'd say it again, I meant it, except that I'm too busy using my mouth for something else. Without any hesitation, I've taken hold of your still growing dick and fed it into my warm mouth. Your chuckles turn to a moan as I return the favor you paid me and suck you in like a ten dollar whore. Ok, I don't really know what those are and would hope that you'd pay more than ten dollars for a hooker, but my brain is on disconnect at the moment and these random thoughts are just flying. But my oral skills are just fine. I remember liking giving head when I was younger and I was pretty good at it. Lord I hope I haven't forgotten how.

My hand tightens at the base of your penis as my lips slide down to meet them. I pause for a moment and swallow. You can feel my throat close around your head and moan again. I move my head back to let your length slip out of my mouth. I grip the base a little harder and lick along the vein that runs to the top, stopping to pay attention to the very tip. My tongue dips into the slit to search for that first bit of pre-cum. I suck you back in to deep throat you one more time as my other hand leaves your hip to fondle your balls. I roll them in my hand while I bob up and down on your shaft, sucking and licking like mad. My eyes are closed as I work to bring you the same pleasure you gave me but I feel your hands against the back of my head. Alternating between pushing me closer and running your fingers through my long blond hair. At some point you must have pulled all the pins out and let it hang loosely down my back.

I move faster, you're so hard now I can tell you are ready to pop. I give your balls a last squeeze and suck you down deep as you finally cum with a loud guttural moan. As that first stream of thick heat hits the back of my throat, I have a microsecond of time to decide if I should swallow or close my throat and let it drip back down over your cock. That's a decision we've all had to make at some point.

I swallow it down. To do otherwise would be an insult to the way you've made me feel.

I let you slip out past my lips and sit back on my seat to catch my breath. I still hold you in my hand, playing lightly.

You grip my upper arms and pull me to my feet so that I stand in front of you. Our damp naked bodies brush together. We kiss, our hands roaming over each others sweat dampened bodies. We kiss, and lick, and kiss, and pet, and stumble over our own feet in the haste to find a surface. Never mind that the couch was just behind us. I think you wanted to head towards the wall of windows, which was too public a display for me, and I think I wanted one of the visitor chairs. So we pushed and pulled and stumbled as we moved, till the edge of the desk suddenly hit the back of my thighs and I sat down hard on its surface. Yes, the desk from my dreams, this would do nicely.

Your large body pressed to my front, pinning me in place. Not that I wanted to go anywhere. I wiggled my butt on the top till I was comfortable. I thought we would be in this spot for a bit, when your arm swept out to clear almost everything to the floor, and you swiveled me around so that I was facing the tinted windows. I could certainly appreciate the view, and not just that of the man coming around to stand between my legs. But I was raised with the no PDA rule and sitting butt naked on my office desk in full view of the panorama of city lights was..well..exciting the hell out of me. I knew that the tinting was to keep out UV rays, not make me invisible. So if there were people that had stayed late in any of the surrounding high rises - I hope they had popcorn for the show they were about to get...