Printer hums faintly from the open space. Coffee scent hangs heavy, mixed with Charlotte’s sharp perfume. We just dragged back from the mall after hours. Inès cuddles Léo on the breakroom couch, her birthday glow lighting up the dim room. Charlotte slams her office door, grumpy as hell.
I slip in after her. Headphones blast. She’s slumped in her chair, eyes distant. ‘Come on,’ I whisper, yanking them off. ‘They’re grabbing drinks. We’re alone.’ Her blue eyes flicker—nervous, hungry. I grab her hand. Drag her down the hall to the employee restroom. Shower stall tucked in the corner for gym rats.
The Mounting Tension
Door clicks locked. Echoes sharp. Mouse clicks patter outside. Hearts pound. I pin her against the sink. Lips crash. Tongues tangle fierce. ‘Fuck, Lise,’ she gasps. Hands rip shirts up. Bras off. Skirts hike. No panties—slutty rebel.
Push her into the stall. Turn knob. Ice water blasts. We yelp, shiver. Bodies slick fast. Heat builds. I drop to knees. Water pounds our skin. Grip her tits—firm, perky. Pinch nipples hard. She moans low. ‘Quiet, bitch.’ Spread her thighs. Pussy shaved smooth, dripping already.
Tongue dives in. Lick her folds. Salty-sweet. Clit swells under flicks. She bucks. Fingers claw my hair. ‘Yes, eat me, you little shrimp.’ Hump my face. Water roars, muffles groans. Suck hard. Tongue fucks deep. She quakes. ‘Gonna cum—fuck!’ Juices flood my mouth. Body spasms.
She yanks me up. Fingers plunge my slit. Two, then three. Pump brutal. Thumb grinds clit. I bite her shoulder. Stars burst. Orgasm rips—legs buckle. Cling tight. Gasps mix with spray.
The Explosive Release
Taps twist off. Silence hits. Voices—Inès laughs outside. Panic spikes. Stomach knots. ‘Shit. I go first. Distract ’em. You sneak out.’ Towel frantic. Wipe sweat, cum. Dress quick. Hair wet, messy. Peek out. Hall empty.
Dash to breakroom. ‘Hey, found those files!’ Bullshit chatter. Léo grins. Inès sips vodka, grimaces. Charlotte slips in minutes later. Peignoir? Nah—robe swapped for towel-dried blouse. Damp spots. She flops on couch end. Silent. Drinks heavy.
Party drags. Cake slices. Chocolates pass. She fakes sleep, eyes shut. I smirk. Secret burns hot. Printer whirs on. Coffee brews fresh. We toast. Act normal. Suits straight. Notes pristine. Inside? Pussy throbs. Adrenaline lingers.
Later, she whispers, ‘Fucking insane.’ Grin shared. Risk fuels us. Boss vibes tomorrow? Untouched. Hierarchy’s intact. Lust hides deep. Waiting next lock-click.