Long time reader, first time publisher. Thank you to Volunteer who offered feedback and suggestions to make my story stronger. I hope you enjoy. Part 2 to follow.
Part 1
"Mmhm... yeah, get that nut."
Liz couldn't believe she had Tyson's dick inside her right now.
Her boss.
She was working toward her second orgasm; the first one happened with his mouth sucking on her clit.
He ate her the way that she needed to be eaten. With an eager tongue, willing fingers and slurping sounds.
"Yess Tysonn," she said as she rolled her hips to bring his dick deeper inside.
His 8 inches was thick, had a raised vein running from the base to the tip with a delicious slight upward curve. It was the right amount of thick that her fingers didn't meet halfway as she gave him a hand job earlier.
Anyone listening would hear how sloppy wet their fucking was as Tyson's balls slapped against her, with him grunting his pleasure.
"Good pussy. Such. Good. Pussy." Tyson murmured as he flexed and gripped Liz's hips tighter as he slowly eased out.
He looked down and saw that his dick was wet and shining with her juices and his pre-cum mixed together. Her pussy lips gripped his dick, and it made him even harder as he slid back in.
She looked sexy laying there with her back arched, pushing her extended nipples up high, offering them to him to suck. He took one in his mouth moving his tongue in a circle while sucking with intent.
Liz gasped, grabbed his ass, and wrapped her legs high around his back. She lifted her hips to meet him thrust for thrust.
"Yes, oh yes, take it. Take it!" she cried out.
Liz knew what had been missing.
That her body was meant for this.
To be taken with pleasure.
To have her pussy flowing uncontrollably and clenching Tyson's dick.
To be free to fuck without embarrassment.
She wanted it and she needed it.
She never thought she would be in this position just a few days ago...
2 days earlier--
Liz walked past Tyson's door on her way to her office. She hated that every time she arrived or left for the day, she had to walk by it. She could take the longer route and swing by the customer service area, but she'd be stopped at least 5 times before she made it to her office. Every time she walked by, she could feel Tyson's eyes on her. It seemed as if he were judging her. She wasn't sure if it was the way that she dressed or if he didn't like her ideas or what, but she was sure he did not like her.
She was aware of how manly Tyson was and he intimidated her. Hell, he intimidated the whole production floor. Everyone had to be on point when it came to networking and gaining prospective clients' wallets. He was direct and matter of fact: all business. He said what he had to say and didn't consider feelings. Tyson got to where he is because he told it like it was, not because he had heart. And because of that dominance, that authority, Tyson had awakened something in her and she wasn't sure she liked it.
Tyson Williams had just transferred to Detroit from San Diego and was the new site manager. Liz was one of the two supervisors in Private Client Services. They had been working together for three months to get him caught up with the day-to-day operations of the bank. Meetings with the customer service and retail teams, side by side in listening sessions, they were in proximity for hours every day.
That corporate had placed a 6'4" former semi-pro football player as the site manager was a huge deal as it was rare to have men in leadership roles at this location. And Tyson was stunning. A black man with walnut colored skin, bald, dark brown eyes, thick beard, muscular chest with a broad back and ass made to hold onto. Front line staff, both men and women, lost their mind when he did a tour of the building. Finally, they had some eye candy. And melanin too!
Based on their interactions and the little personal conversations he chose to share, Liz knew that he was 35, had been divorced for a year, lived on Woodward in the heart of downtown and coached his nephew's youth football league. She also knew that he had a tattoo sleeve on his right arm, had kissable lips and his voice was so deep that she felt the vibration in her pussy each time he talked. She knew whatever he whispered to his girlfriend at night must keep her simmering. At least she assumed he had a girlfriend, he was the total package that it wouldn't make sense for him not to, though he never mentioned having one.
He may not even be here yet, Liz thought as she straightened her back and adjusted her bag on her shoulder. At least she looked cute, not that she started getting dressed for Tyson. Today, she wore a green and white wrap dress that showed a little bit of cleavage, the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips and clung slightly to her ass. It was still work appropriate.
She worked with what she had. Liz was 5'10", a shapely size 16, and she enhanced her features the best way she knew how, in dresses and skirts. Liz always wore dresses or skirts to work. Rarely was she in pants unless she was at the gym, in a yoga class or at home. The dress highlighted her brown skin especially now that it had gotten a deeper shade with her summer tan. Cute tan sandals showed off her red polish pedicure. Oh, and she couldn't forget about the white lace lingerie she had on underneath. She had a whole drawer full of sexy underwear that no one ever saw but her. Lingerie was her secret thrill.
Ok, she could admit that she started to put more effort into what she wore underneath since Tyson arrived. They had basically been forgotten as she stopped wearing them after she ended her engagement. She couldn't believe it had already been three years since she and Brandon had broken up. And the one time she had taken a chance to have a rebound fling, she didn't even have an orgasm. At least with Brandon, she was able to cum first, hell twice, before he did. She definitely had to give Brandon credit in the stamina department.
Liz knew that she was just regular vanilla. She followed the rules and did what was expected of her. She had been raised in an overprotective, Christian home and was a late bloomer when it came to male interaction and sexual experiences. Even now, she had to remind herself that wearing clothes that showed her shape was ok. 'Be modest' had been ingrained in her since she developed breasts at 10 years old. Always told to cover up and not to tempt men had been an ongoing mantra with her mother. It wasn't until she went away to college that she was finally able to explore the freedom that came with being a woman. And that meant falling away from her faith, exploring other religions, and wearing a V-neck shirt that didn't require her to put a tank top underneath.