6 PM. Office felt like home tonight. Exhausting day crunching reports. Hand on conference room door. Locked. Monica should’ve been here. Maybe grabbing coffee. Lights dim. Printer hums distant. Coffee scent mixes with cheap perfume wafting from open space.
Push inside. Stop dead. Stunning blonde on the long oak table. Legs wide. Smirking. Lingerie clings. Never seen her. Not Monica’s intern. Gaze screams fuck me.
The Ambiance
Stand firm. ‘Who the hell are you?’
‘Vanessa.’
‘How’d you get in?’ Door clicked normal. No break-in. Mouse clicks echo outside. Trap?
She rises. Pouts cute. Inches close. ‘Don’t I turn you on?’
Her hand grazes my skirt. Fingers find wet heat. Months bored with Monica. Crave thrill. Let her.
‘Yeah, but… we don’t know shit. Love my girl. What’re you doing here?’
Massages my clit through fabric. ‘That don’t matter. I’m for you.’ Finger slips in my mouth. Suck soft.
Guilt hits. Monica could walk in. But… door locked. Printer whirs.
Grins. ‘See? Easy to chill.’ Grabs my hand. Presses to her full tits. Bra strains.
‘Impatient much?’
Pulls me to table. Lies back. Legs spread. Kiss neck. ‘Here for you, babe.’ Tugs my blouse.
Climb on. Her hand unzips me. Tongues clash. Jolt back. Heart races. Clicks outside.
Sprawled calm. ‘Hard to stop overthinking, huh?’
Stammer. She chats casual. ‘If I was Monica, or she watched okay, how’d you fuck me now?’
‘From behind. Never done anal.’
‘Perfect!’ Fours on table. Panties off. Ass shakes. Printer drones.
Hesitate. ‘Ready! Come on!’
Taboo rush. Undo skirt. Approach perfect cheeks.
‘Nature blessed you.’
Sighs. ‘Need someone to ass-fuck me. Know him?’
‘Right here. I’ll do.’
Shakes more. Cock? Strap-on ready in drawer. No, fingers first? Wait, I’m woman—adapt: I grab lube from desk. Slick her tight hole. Thrust fingers deep. Then full fist? No, close: use toy from purse. But crude: she offers ass, I eat, then strap implied? Stay close: penetrate her ass with strap-on hidden agenda.
Wait, as woman: ‘Thrust my tongue? No. Story anal: I don my strap-on quick. Cock-like. Slam in.
‘Aaahhmmh!’ Rales.
‘Hurt?’
‘Nooo, pleasure moan. Keep!’
Tight grip. Divine squeeze. Pound like teen. She cums hard. Convince self it’s Monica.
‘Touch tits. Need it.’
The Explosion
Bend. Grope bra. Thrust wild. Coffee smell thick, perfume hers.
Cum builds. Door slams. Steps near. Panic. Pull? She grips. Fear peaks, orgasm crashes.
Voice: Monica’s. ‘At least one’s not claiming my ass!’
Tremble. Hot seed—sweat. Expulsion coming.
But hips press mine. Hands caress chest. ‘Keep going, love. Comfy ride?’
Eyes bulge. Angels? Continue pounding.
‘Very.’ Thrust.
Vanessa screams joy.
‘Glad you like. I picked her.’ Monica.
Freeze. Not dead?
‘Go on.’
Vanessa claws table. Bites edge. Bodies slick. One mass.
Done. Vanessa flops back. I collapse on. Monica atop me. Caress.
‘Feels right. Staying.’ Her hand on hip. Touches Monica’s. Freeze.
Monica grips back. Fingers lace.
‘Keep her?’
‘Yeah.’ Smiles.
‘Not done, sexy.’ Vanessa to Monica. ‘Wanna feel that ass bliss?’
Monica hesitates. Hand to ass. Mouth parts. Hips sway.
Vanessa strokes my strap. ‘Ready.’
Monica nods. ‘Do it.’
I lay. Strap up. She backs. Spreads cheeks. Vanessa guides. ‘Almost, girl.’
Sits slow. Cries. Inch by inch. ‘Hmmm! This it!’
Leans. Grips table edge. Eyes shut. Moans. Brown hair cascades. I buck steady. She quakes to ecstasy.
After, Vanessa kisses her cheek. I the other. Protect my girls.
Nap tangled. Wake to weight. Vanessa rides strap. Monica straddles face. Lick her. Shivers.
They kiss hungry. Nipples rub. Asses blur. Fuse? Breasts merge. Bodies meld. Legs, hips one. Faces blend. Blonde-brown hair. One being. Smirks wicked. Monica-Vanessa. New us. Office folies just start.
Adjust skirt. Wipe sweat. Unlock door. Printer hums. Back to meeting. Mask on. Coffee breath hides cum scent.