Office Tal

Days went by before they really spoke again. He was afraid that the sex-in-the-office-on-the-desk thing was too cliche, not risqué enough for her. Sure it was hot as hell and he would certainly do it again in a heartbeat, but women. He couldn't quite figure them out. This one especially. She was different. Smart, professional (usually) good at her job, good at other types of jobs...

At least she didn't ignore him completely, though. Casual smiles and glances were still exchanged in those few days, creating something of a spark. Wasn't it usually the guy's job to make the girl worry for a few days? He couldn't help himself. It was all he could think about. Her taste, the low hum of her moans, the rhythm that they had created in connection with their rapid heart beats.

Finally, he had enough of the torture. His mind wouldn't stop to the point it was outwardly noticeable. He would demand she meet him after work. He managed to type out a quick and to the point text message on his phone, "meet me in the parking lot of the library after work." He hit send. Minutes go by without a reply. She was nowhere to be found. Only an hour left in the shift, not much time for planning. He keeps checking his phone, still nothing. Worry filled his brain but only for a moment. He was confident she would say yes. He was always confident, but she had him twisted.

The end of shift finally came. The sun set a few moments ago and warm humid air still hung heavily with the threat of an approaching late-summer storm. In the locker room he stripped himself of the sweat soaked uniform that clung tightly to his skin the last several hours, thankful for a shower and deodorant. Still in a towel he looked in the mirror then checked his phone again for the umpteenth time in the last 5 minutes. Nothing. He heard her voice as she exited the employee door, but knew he couldn't run out to catch her. Once dressed, he closed his locker with a slightly agitated force and made his way out the back door, a sense of disappointment lingering. She was already gone. He decided to drive through the library lot on the way out.

To his surprise, tucked back in a parking space where only night owls and other nocturnal four legged creatures could see, there she sat, on the edge of her dark red, four-door soft top Wrangler, her bare chest alabaster in the glow of the heady full moon above.

He approached her with caution, just in case. She was known to carry a gun, but then again, so was he. She reached out and grabbed a generous handful of his t-shirt and pulled him in closer. Deeply she inhaled the stale aroma of his expensive cologne lingering in the cotton fabric, a tingling hitting her hard in between her thighs.

"What took you so long."

He kissed her hard on the lips, as if he has been starving for months, a surge or electricity sped through him igniting that spark into a raging inferno down below. He ran his tongue down her neck slowly until he made his way to her hard proud nipple, stopping to admire it as if it were a delicate piece of jewelry, a rare gem set in gold. He sucked it back into his mouth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. Savoring it. Her hand reached down to find his arousal, feeling it's length and girth through the thin cotton shorts, stroking it softly, teasing him gently. As he transferred his mouth to her other breast, patiently waiting, he wrapped his hands firmly around her waist to the small of her back, pulling her in closer with an urgency that he has never before displayed, sucking harder, biting with a little too much enthusiasm.

He yearns to taste her, not just her lips or her skin but those intimate parts, the delicate parts, parts of her that are the hidden treasure. He took a hold of the elastic of her shorts and pulled them down past her knees, then her ankles, kissing every inch of her flesh as it's exposed, stopping at the wet folds of her pussy, spending time, lots of time in one spot, with his tongue and his fingertips simultaneously playing a game of chase.

He's amazed at how sweet her juices are as he watches them drip down the inside of her thighs, tempting him further. Delicious aromas of sex continued to fill the air around them, making him harder than he already was, if that is even possible. Quickly he turned her around until she was facing away from him. He slowly but firmly slid one hand up to her neck as the other guided his rock solid shaft into her awaiting pussy. He has painfully and patiently been fantasizing about this moment since the day he first had her on the desk, many wet dreams ago. His hips pushed into her from behind, he glided easily inside as she gripped him and pulled him in with only the muscles of her deep insides. They both let out a moan of pleasure, release, lust, want. Over and over again in a rhythm like waves crashing, a storm raging, hearts racing to keep up with their pace, he collides into her, harder with each thrust.

She screamed out and he covered her mouth with his hand, then leaned in and kissed her to keep her quiet, silenced. He doesn't want it to end, but he knows he is close. She falls to her knees slowly to engulf him, swallow him whole, taste the salt of his being. He violently releases the pent up frustrations of his life into her mouth. With a smile on her face she sips every last drop, licks her lips victoriously, gives him a peck on the cheek, and drives off, leaving him standing happily in her wake.