Pen Meets Ink (pt.2)
By: Kieran King
After their interrupted office tryst, the redheaded lothario decided to throttle back his rapport with the smouldering Aria while at work, which proved more difficult than previously thought. He wasn't used to keeping his dialogue with her so curt, so professional when they crossed paths during the rare intervals either left their respective soul-crushing employment pit. But the quelled hunger in her eyes that lingered just beneath the surface gave him a satisfaction he couldn't put into words, even if he was foolish enough to tell anyone their "interoffice meeting" in secret. His next door corporate cellmate Bob probed Malcolm all day, every day trying to get the slightest hint of what went down that night, but to the redhead's credit he had never been so taciturn in his entire life. No way, I'm fucking THAT up, he thought with a secret smirk as Bob, now frustrated, decided to plug his wireless earphones in and get back to whatever mindless task the higher ups delegated to the soon-to-be retiree. Malcolm sat in his seat, fidgeting to get comfortable yet couldn't find a comfortable position with a map & compass.
He knew it had nothing to do with the chair and everything to do with that woman, that sultry woman who occupied his waking thoughts. Malcolm stared at his blank screen for another twenty minutes before his mind gave up trying to be productive. He leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head while he propped his feet onto the desk, ankle crossed over ankle. As if by thought, she seemed to conjure herself while he lounged at his desk,
"If only the higher ups could see you now..." She said, making him nearly fall out of his chair trying to straighten up in it, his cheeks reddened with embarrassment, "Just the picture of productivity, you are."
When he realized it was only her, he smiled despite the situation she caught him in (she is technically still the HR of this company and kinda my boss!), he swiveled his chair around to face her. Something he had noticed since their "after-hours encounter", Aria's clothing shifted from business professional to more clingy attire that was usually just covered by an overly large knit sweater. Today, the pixie-sized temptress went with a simplistic, concealed look: from neck to knees she wore a stylish camel-colored trench coat, her legs were covered in a pair of dark pantyhoes and on her feet were an expensive pair of black stiletto pumps with red bottoms. His eyes roved up and down her while she jokingly posed in front of him, as if in front of a camera.
"That's some getup. Big plans tonight?" Malcolm asked not because he was interested but to make sure he didn't have competition.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" She gave him one more twirl, his eyes naturally stole a glance at the swell of her bubble butt that refused to be hidden under the khaki coat wrapped precariously around her contours..
He made sure she did not see this, however, nor did he allow her to see his face flash with a momentary shade of envy at her potential suitor.
"I might have somewhere to be..." she kept her answers aggravatingly ambiguous as she completed her spin, "does that make you jealous?"
It did, but he kept that to himself, choosing to lie instead,
"Not at all. You look fantastic. Whoever they are, they're lucky as hell, that's for sure." He admitted, not able to take his eyes off her.
"Whew, well that's a relief considering it's YOU who's taking me out." She casually revealed, slimming her hands down her side, smoothing the slinky dress that wrinkled at her wide hips.
Malcolm, caught off-guard, could only sit there, agape. She chuckled, peeking at top of his cubicle to make sure his cubicle neighbor wasn't doing eavesdropping as he often did, but found him with headphones on, engrossed in his work. She took hold of the chair's arms to spin him around to face her, then with one more cautious look around she straddled him.
"Ar, we're gonna get caught!" He warned with hushed excitement but did not try to stop her.
The moment she settled down into his lap, the solid press of his virility against his olive dress slacks became apparent to her. She bit her lip, rubbing herself against it while she planted her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. A soft moan escaped him, it was caught by her clapping one of her cherry blossom scented hands over his mouth while a devious smile lined her adorable visage.
"Shh...or we definitely will." She whispered before planting her pillowy lips on his, the taste of her cotton candy lip gloss dotting his tongue.
She moaned into his mouth as his hand pressed against the small of her back, urging her to grind against him with more vigour. Her breath became ragged, her movements became more aggressive as she rocked atop him while dragging her nails down the front of his shirt. Then as soon as she began, she quickly ceased her lusty dance with a clearing of her throat and a quick dismount; her hands were already at work to adjust her wrinkled coat back into place while he sat discombobulated still in the thralls of their risky fun. The front of his pants barely contained the stout spear threatening to burst out; Malcolm took hold of it outside his pants to manipulate it to look less protrusive, only to find moist little dabs of viscous excitement darkening the front of his pants amidst a slighter general dampness he was sure wasn't from his or her sweat. Fuck, I bet she's as wet as I am hard--he surmised in silence, knowing this line of thinking would not help the uncontrollable swelling of his girthy organ.
She seemed to rearrange herself to a respectable degree before saying,
"Our little game will continue after dinner, make sure you dress the part, Mal." she took to fixing her hair before peeking out the cube-shaped jail's entrance to find that only the discordant sounds of phone calls occupied the halls. After one last look back at him, she slipped out his workstation while Malcolm followed her petite form until she was out of eyeshot.
He began swiping at his pants, meandering towards his desk where some leftover paper napkins from lunch sat crumpled up on his desk; he grabbed a handful to start scrubbing his pants with discreet haste, keeping his eye on the entrance of his cell for any more unexpected visitors. The threat, however, would come from behind him, in the form of his neighbor, Bob.
"Heyah Mal...uhhh, whatcha doing over there?" The soon-to-be retiree asked, making Malcolm freeze on the spot.
Without needing to see him, he knew from Bob's angle that he looked suspicious all hunched over himself while one arm worked furiously back-and-forth. He chuckled, turning to look over his shoulder with a forced smile,
"Ha, it's not what it looks like. I promise, Bob. Just spilled a little scalding coffee on my lap." Malcolm lied, further selling it with a contorted face to look as if he were fighting imaginary pain, his hands doubled covering his partially swollen cock as he fully turned around to make it look authentic.
"Jesus, kid! You need me to help you get to the bathroom? Pretty sure they got a first aid kit in there." Bob suggested but Malcolm vehemently shook his head in refusal.
