Office Affair

Stupid database. Would it ever be fixed? Ha! Not likely... The tap of my fingers on the keys continued. Another record updated. Sort of. Tap tap tap. And another. I was in the Ns now. "Yes! I'd passed the halfway point- at least theoretically," I thought wryly to myself. Tap tap tap. What a mundane, mindless chore!

The soft click of the back door closing interrupted my thoughts. "All done?" I looked up from my work and flashed him a smile as he plopped down in the chair on the other side of my desk.

"I can only stay a minute. I have to brief Chief on my way out, and then I'm going home."

I'd already saved my work and closed everything out before the last word passed from his lips. In a flash, I was out of my chair and making my way around the desk, intent on making good use of the 'minute' he'd offered.

As I rounded the corner of the desk, his arm snaked out, caught me off guard, and dumped me unceremoniously onto his lap. His hands found my breasts through my uniform, then slid along the taut skin of my belly, down to my thighs, and finally in between them. Then, back upward to hold me closer as his lips explored the side of my neck and the outer edge of my ear. His voice was a mere whisper, repeating his time constraint.

Oddly, I didn't find his imposed restriction disappointing, perhaps due to the closeness of his lips when he said it. Maybe it was because he had me pressed full length against him and I could feel his hardness against my backside. Maybe because his hands had made their way under my uniform blouse, and I could feel their heat through my thin tee shirt.

Whatever the reason, I was certainly in no mood to let him out the door when his 'minute' was up. On the contrary, I was suddenly feeling rather adventurous indeed. Inside me was a deep-seated need to touch him, to feel his firm skin beneath my palms.

I felt my hands move away from my sides, reaching out for him, never mind the fact that he was trapped under me, my fingers began to clench in the pure frustration of denial. I struggled to find him, some part of him, any part of him.

His hand had found its way into my pants then, and his fingertips had begun a tormenting dance, first against my flimsy thong, then against my bare lips as he pushed aside the last scrap of fabric that separated us. I felt myself begin to squirm as he zeroed in on the sensitive button of my clit. The rush of wetness as he moved lower to ease the tip of one finger slightly inside brought my hips upward to meet him. His fingertips teased back and forth between small circular stokes against my clit, then longer strokes as he slid down again to bury them inside of me. Each invasion was punctuated by warm kisses along the side of my neck as his other arm held me pinned firmly against him.

The pain of my fingernails digging into my palms reminded me of my still-clenched hands. I was loathe to move and break the spell, but I couldn't stand the thought of not being able to touch him, to provide him the same pleasure-torment. I turned to him and mentioned my consternation at this and, instead of acquiescing, he replied with an unexpected question, "Why can't you just let me please you?"

I was taken completely by surprise by his simple question. I wasn't even sure how to respond. To accept, yet not give in return? No one had ever asked that of me. Finally, between kisses, I managed to stammer a reply, of sorts. "I'm not sure I know how to do that." I said quietly, only barely able to meet his eyes.

His clear blue eyes burned through me as he said simply, "I can teach you." For a split-second, I considered protesting, but his teasing touch wouldn't let me think straight. Silently, I gave in, allowing myself to sink back into more of his delightful kisses, meeting his mouth firmly, finding his tongue with my own until he broke away to nuzzle into the side of my neck again.

Soon enough, he tired of his hand's limited access, bound as it was by my pants, and I felt his other hand loosening my belt. I rushed to his aid, and together we fumbled and tugged until my belt and buttons separated and we managed to push the waist of my pants down to my upper thighs. His fingers slid into me again, and I moved my hands up to grip his forearms, pushing on them in encouragement.

Making full use of his new freedom, he reacquainted himself with every place he'd already touched, then proceeded on to explore all sorts of spots he couldn't access before. Places I'd all but forgotten existed. Places that stoked the warmth within me into a raging bonfire. He teased back and forth, alternating between sliding in and out, and tiny circles of pressure against my now-swollen clit. His kisses along the side of my neck served as tiny droplets of gasoline for the fire that burned inside of me.

I found that I couldn't sit still against him, I couldn't even think straight anymore. Somewhere through the haze, I heard him whisper something to me. Every nerve came to life as the words sunk in and I realized he'd asked if I would let him taste me.

"LET???" I heard myself shout from somewhere deep within. I hauled myself back to reality, enough to voice a shaky reply, "Somehow, I don't think 'let' is the right word." I must've sounded clever then, his quiet chuckle tickled over the tiny hairs along the side of her neck. Yet he made no move to stop, to change position, preferring instead to continue his current form of torture.

"Am I supposed to get up?" I wondered to myself. "No way on earth that's going to happen!" I couldn't move, only squirm more insistently against the maddening pressure of his fingertips on my flesh. I heard tiny cries escape my lips, felt myself flail about, felt my hands clench repeatedly, all as if it were someone else. It couldn't possibly have been me there, could it, writhing with pleasure at someone else's touch? I felt, more than heard, his name as it passed my lips, begging, pleading for...something.

I wasn't even sure what I was asking for anymore. Lost completely in his touch, I failed to notice his teasing had trailed off until I felt his hands at my sides, applying gentle pressure for me to stand. Somehow, I managed to comply, using the edge of the desk to steady myself.

After working his way out from under me, he pushed me back down into the chair before he knelt just slightly at my side. My breath caught in my throat as I watched his head move lower. Every voice inside my head clamored for attention, reminding me of each veiled reference he'd made of his desire to be there, leading up to this very act. I felt myself tense, my body rigid with anticipation. Only mere seconds had passed, yet it seemed more like an eternity.

The first stroke of his tongue was soft, almost timid. Then the second, and third. The breath I didn't even realize I'd been holding trapped in my lungs escaped from between my parted lips in a ragged, broken moan as he continued with maddenly gentle flicks of the tip of his tongue against my swollen clit. Then he dipped his head lower, providing more pressure with longer strokes of his tongue, just before his lips came down to join in the madness of my torment.

Dear Lord! The fire I'd felt at his touch was nothing compared to the smoldering heat building deep in my core at the insistence of his kisses. As he continued to lap at me with his tongue, I felt his fingers dance lightly along my inner thigh before he slid them inside of me, returning to again explore my waiting wetness. Again, I heard tiny moans, high-pitched almost to a squeal. Several seconds passed before I realized those sounds were coming from my lips.

The cramp in my fingers alerted me to the fact that my hands had his shirt in a death-grip, pulling at him to voice the encouragement my addled brain failed to put into words. Mere seconds away from my release, I suddenly found myself concerned at losing myself completely to this man. I remembered my shyness and embarrassment the last time he had brought me over the edge, and knew this time would be worse. This time, there were no sunglasses for me to hide behind. This time, the privacy offered by my office wouldn't allow me to mask my reaction. "Can I even allow myself this vulnerability?" was my fleeting thought.

The doubts in my head were swept away when his lips closed around my clit to suck it gently between his teeth, replaced by 'Oh dear God!' and 'Yes!' His teasing exploration continued without the slightest mercy. He changed pace effortlessly, from soft teasing flips of his tongue to gentle nibbles, to light taps of his fingertips, to hovering mere centimeters away and allowing only the warmth of his breath to caress me. All the while his fingers danced along my interior, sometimes with short fast strokes to tease at me, sometimes longer strokes to bury them deep within me.

Though he only touched a small part of me, I could have sworn I felt it everywhere, from the top of my head and into my hair to the very tips of my toes dancing in my boots. Every last inch of me was alive and burning from the heat of his touch. I knew it would come soon; I was so close. There would have been no stopping myself then, no stopping him, even if I'd wanted to.

My hands were tangled in his shirt, my legs rigid, my hips raised to meet his kiss. I had to genuinely fight the urge to move away from him, to save myself from his incessant torture. It was all too much, too intense to withstand, but I couldn't move, couldn't get away, couldn't find it within myself to make him stop, to tell him I couldn't take it anymore. I could only continue to spiral further and further out until finally the last gossamer thread of my self-control unraveled at the onset of my orgasm. Wave after wave of pure sweet pleasure crashed violently over me. Each tiny movement of his tongue sent another shiver up my spine, caused my muscles to contract around the fingers he still held inside of me.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the delicious spasms subsided, and my body relaxed, settling back into the chair. As I began to regain my senses, I found him saying...something. "What? Huh?" My brain struggled to reconnect with reality. Still dazed, I opened my eyes to find him staring at me expectantly.

"Sit up," he pushed at my legs. I struggled to get back into the chair, grateful for his assistance while I commanded my limp, rubbery form to obey. I closed my eyes to his intense gaze, feeling shy again in light of my body's reaction. He leaned up and kissed me back to awareness. It didn't take much; tasting myself on his lips provided a potent reminder of the event that had just transpired. Before I knew it, we had realigned and I was standing between his legs, facing his seated form in the chair.

Just as I moved in close, he pushed my top up and cupped a breast in each hand. The devilish twinkle in his eyes made his intent crystal-clear, but he said anyway, "Can't neglect these..." His words trailed off to nothing as he dipped his head and his lips enclosed the rosy peak of my right nipple. The warmth of his kiss began to rekindle the smoldering fire still burning deep within me. Each kiss, teasing flick of his tongue, and gentle nip of his teeth sent a tiny electric current coursing through me that finally settled in the pit of my belly.

Again, I started to lose focus on the world around me. Nothing existed, save the heat of his kisses against my bared skin. All I could think was...more. All I wanted then was to feel him buried within me, to join with him completely.

Normally an uncomfortable subject and mood killer in general, yet nonetheless a necessity, he saved me the trouble by bringing it up himself, asking for a condom. Suddenly, I felt overwhelmed with the need to know his true view on the subject. I didn't know why, but it was of the utmost importance. More so even than my desire to have him inside of me.

I informed him of the fact that I was beyond the point of conception in my cycle, and left him the choice. Why did it matter what he would choose, given the option? If he insisted, he would wear one. If he didn't insist, I would have insisted myself. So why, why did I need to know right then what his viewpoint was? Hard to say, and I was sure I would ponder my timeliness later...

His insistence brought me back to the surface, and I reached for my bag. I was glad that he couldn't see the grateful look in my eyes, the look that I wasn't quite sure why I was unwilling to share it with him. I dug in my bag for a few seconds, fumbling in my excitement. Somehow, the damn things were just beyond my fingertips though. I reached further, willing myself to stretch. "Come on, damn it!" Just as I was about to give up, I felt his hands on my hips, lifting me, helping me. "There!" Finally, the elusive condom was within my grasp. I grabbed it and lifted myself up, attempting but failing miserably at smoothness as I handed it over.

He took it from my hand, and covered himself as I squelched the tiny flicker of disappointment wrapped firmly in necessity. My sadness at not being able to have him unfettered was overcome immediately by the very satisfying realization that I was about to get to feel him inside of me, right there, right then.

Suddenly aware of my pants still around my knees, knowing my options were limited, I turned away and positioned myself between his thighs. I hovered just inches over him, thankful for the hours of yoga. I reached between my own thighs to prepare myself as I felt his hand under me. Then I allowed my thighs to lower me further, using my fingertips to guide him into me. There was only the slightest resistance as he began to work his way inside. At first, just the head, then my body relaxed to receive him fully. Small sighs escaped from between my parted lips as my thighs lifted me slightly, then lowered me to capture him again and again. The need to drive myself downward, to slam him deep within me was all but overwhelming.

I was concentrating so hard to control my movement, to maintain a slow, steady pace that I failed to notice his release until he slid his hand back under me to apply enough pressure for me to continue. Far from disappointed, I found myself rather endeared by his effort to ensure my satisfaction. Mindful of his sensitivity, I continued, absolutely delighted by the way my body stretched slightly to accommodate his thickness as I lowered myself, then snapped back again as I raised back up. Every stroke brought me closer. The sweet friction of him sliding slowly inside of me again and again maddened me. I was heating from within then, completely wrapped up in forcing my thighs to repeat the gentle up and down movement of my hips.

Again and again, I slid him home. I felt my breath coming faster as the tension within me built, until finally, the tightly coiled spring snapped and the delightful sensations coursed through me again. Much milder than the violent spasms of earlier, but no less amazing. Only as the last wave subsided did I allow my rhythm to slow to a stop, easing myself down to envelop him one final time before moving away to release him.

To be continued...