Whats That Sound

There it is again.

That sound.

I turn around to the mysterious door behind the secondary office staircase. No one ever comes down this way except for me. It is out of the way, and if the dusty railing is any indication, the office cleaning staff never comes this way, either. I come by once a week, always on Thursdays. On Thursdays, the big boss stops by our small actuarial firm to check on things or whatever he does, and he gives employees an extra hour break that must be spent outside the office. While everyone goes out, I prefer to sneak down the deserted stairway to read whatever smut I'd downloaded to my kindle. If I'm feeling brave, I might touch myself to relieve some of the pent-up pressure from watching

him

through the glass of his corner office.

I hear it again. It's a low, breathy moan. At first, it's hard to place because it feels as though whoever is making it is trying hard to be quiet. Suddenly, the moan is louder, dragged out, as if in pain or overwhelmed with pleasure - it is difficult to tell. I approach the door. It is short, about 4 feet to my 5'5". I open the door slowly, thankful that it does not make any sound, and quickly get on my knees, crawling into the space. It is dark, but I see something in the distance like a phone light behind several stacked boxes. In fact, this looks like a storage room of some sort, with storage boxes and short filing cabinets. I crawl slowly towards the light, staying as quiet as I possibly can. I can now see two silhouettes as the light plays on their moving form. I come closer, staying hunched behind giant boxes, peering through the slit between the boxes.

I freeze as shock overtakes me.

It's him. He's here.

I see his profile, his dark hair a little too long and needing a trim. His pillowy full lips. His hands, with long fingers that are always clean and manicured, just the way I like them. As he bends his head, I notice what exactly I have interrupted as cold and heat simultaneously weave through me. In front of him is Amy, the beautiful chatty bee who constantly buzzes around him. It irritates me how she is always just

there

. She has a job but somehow any time he needs the most inconsequential thing, she is there, ready to help, offering to help. I've always known she likes him, I just didn't know he'd bite.

She pants softly as he bends once more to lick her open center, her panties halfway down her legs. He sucks softly and she gasps, her hand dropping to the rug and grabbing a handful of it. The spot on the rug directly beneath her looks damp, likely from her exposed, needy cunt. She whispers then, "Do you still see her?"

His right hand presses into her small waist, as he responds, "all the fucking time."

"And you still want her?"

"Very much," he responds, surprising me with a spank on Amy's bum. Amy gasps, her face twisting in need.

"But

I

need

you

desperately, Lor."

"That's why you offer your body, Amy. I need relief. I can't see her fucking long black hair and doe eyes without wanting to bite her."

I reach out instinctively to touch my black hair flowing behind me. No.

Could he mean me?

I do a mental check. I am the only one with black hair in the office. It's a small office, I know these things. My heart begins to race as I realize he may be talking about me.

"Use me then, Lor. Use me. I'm dripping so much for you. I want to be filled only by you."

I'm not sure if it's Amy's lust-laced words or the fact that I'm the reason he is seeking relief in a willing body, but I am pulsing, hot, and wet. Thankfully, I am wearing a short black skirt today, so I quietly scrunch it up my thighs, making sure to quiet my breathing. I push my soaking panties to the side and touch my wet center, nearly crying at the sensation.

He unbuckles his belt, his zipper coming down the only sound that fills the room. I wait in anticipation as his dripping thickness is released. He rubs his wet tip up and down Amy's waiting slit, causing her to release another desperate moan. I'm on all fours, my fingers positioned, waiting for him to push in, so that I can do the same. This way I will feel him, too. As he fucks Amy, he fucks me. Without hesitation, he sinks into her at the same time I push two fingers into my waiting core. I gasp, then clamp my mouth shut. Did they hear me? No, they have not heard me. In and out he pumps into her and she groans silently, taking it. God, she must be so close. With the way she follows him around, she is probably on edge all day long. Not unlike me, I suppose. I fuck myself with his rhythm, though wishing it were him, instead of my fingers. I feel the tears of months of longing coming to the forefront. My fingers are just not enough when he is this close, when I can smell the mild tang of his seed.

Suddenly, I feel him behind me. "I know you've been watching me," he whispers.

My core clenches in response to his words and nearness. Does he know that the need for our bodies to join is so much that on some days I run into the bathroom in the middle of meetings and while crouched on the closed toilet lid, I fuck myself to orgasm with one or both ice globes I carry in my bag?

"Let me have your body?" he asks.

"Y-Yes, Yess," I gasp as he pushes into me just seconds later.

"Oh

Gooooood!"

He feels so good, so so good. He breathes louder, I hear my whimpers.

How could this be me? How am I making all these sounds?

I feel the pain of his grasp on my hips. And suddenly, he smacks my bum, once, twice, three times in steady succession. My fluids pour out in response, wetting where we are joined.

"Fuck," he gasps out.

I rock back into him as he fucks me, wild, like an animal in heat. Reaching under my thin blouse, he strokes beneath my tender breast before releasing their heaviness into his hands. My nipples are so hard and so sensitive. Desperate for him, I turn around, repositioning myself so that I am now sitting on him. I catch a glimpse of Amy crying in the corner, pushing the knot of his tie into her core, searching for a release only he could bring. I know she must be swollen with need. Her core must hurt from being left mid-fuck with no relief. I would fuck his tie too if I were left like that.

Turning back to Lor, I use his body the way I've imagined so many times. I bite his lips, moving to his neck, I bite down as he rocks me into him. It is intense, our sex fills the air, wild and unabashed. I come closer and closer to exploding and feel him expanding and stretching me even more. He wants to pull out but I want his warmth. Panting, I say to him, "In me, please."

And with that he spills and I come, our groans following each other. As he pulls out of me and his cum drips onto the rug, I'm aware that I have just lived one of my many smut fantasies.