I arrived early at the conference room in our Les Halles office. Heart pounding. Christophe and I had teased this for weeks online. Libertine forum buddies. His challenge: spot my sparkling eyes in the open space, then touch me in the room until you see the black boxer photo. No words first. Pure risk. I craved that office adrenaline—boss lady by day, slut by night.
Printer whirred outside. Coffee aroma mixed with my perfume, thick in the air. Clicks of mice as colleagues settled. I scanned lone guys. Few fits. No ringless married vibe. No ponytail hint. Entered early. Dim lights for the video presentation. Fought for the seat beside me. Lost it to a thirty-something guy. Darkened room. His knee brushed mine during a slide jump. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. I smiled. Held contact. Calf pressed back. Heat through pants. Conviction hit. This was him.
The Build-Up
Hands joined the game. Mine on his knee first. Felt the throb under denim. His on my skirt edge. Timid. Wedding ring glinted. Married. Hotter. Fingers crept. Mine to his bulge. Firm. Ripe. His eyes locked mine. Wet. Hungry. Lips crashed. Bite. Pull back. Dive again. Coat over laps. His hand hiked my skirt. Past stockings. Fingers grazed soaked thong. Clit spark. I spasmed. Slipped away. Zipper down. Hawaiian boxers. Not black.
Doubt flickered. But fuck it. Hand inside. Balls heavy. Warm. Rolled them. Power rush. Gripped shaft base. Thick. Veiny. Stroked slow. He groaned soft. Hand snaked up. Cupped tit. Lace aside. Nipple pinched. Twisted. I pumped faster. Pre-cum slicked palm. ‘Your cock’s huge,’ I whispered. ‘Gonna make you cum.’ His fingers plunged in. Two. Curled. Hit spot. Gush. Muffled moan. Desk edge dug thighs. Printer hummed distant. Door locked click earlier? Risk everywhere. Climax built. Tense. Near.
The Explosion
Pushed limit. Dropped low. Lips brushed tip through fabric. Sucked fabric. Salty seep. He bucked. Fingers fucked harder. Orgasm ripped. Bit lip bloody. Waves. He tensed. Spurted hot in boxers. Soaked hand. Pulled free. Wiped discreet. Zipper up. Skirt down. Nipple tucked. Straightened blouse. Lights flickered brighter. Presentation droned. Acted normal. Typed notes. Mouse clicked. Coffee breath lingered.
Meeting ended. He kissed neck outside. Giggles. Eyes bright. Flushed. Saw him then. Christophe. Sign: ‘CATHERINE.’ Desperate. Pancarte like beggar. Realization crashed. Wrong man. Wrong cock. Laughed inside. Slipped away with stranger. Adrenaline peak. Office secrets thrive on mistakes.