Freshly single at 30, I craved breaking taboos. 5’7″, 121 lbs, brunette with perky D-cups that turn heads. Scrolling ads for naughty hookups, his profile hit: 25-year-old libertine wanting to initiate a newbie. Messaged him. Chats on MSN, then phone. Set for his place, but work vibes shifted it—turns out he’s the new intern, Gaël, in our open space.
Next evening, conference room after hours. Printer hums faintly down the hall. Coffee stench mixes with his musky cologne. I knock. Door clicks open. He locks it—sharp snap echoes. He’s gorgeous: ripped under tight shirt and jeans, bulge teasing. Asian decor vibe? Nah, sleek glass table, chairs pushed aside.
The Building Tension
We sip coffee from styrofoam cups. Black, strong. Eyes lock over rims. Hierarchy flips—bossy me, ambitious desk warrior, now hungry. Stress melts into heat. His hand grazes my knee under the table. I part thighs. No panties under pencil skirt. He smirks. Leans in. Tongue invades my mouth, wet and fierce. Heart pounds. Mouse clicks from distant cubicles? Nah, empty floor.
I recline on the table, files scatter. He pins me. Hand slides up thigh, finds slick pussy. Fingers tease. Unbuttons blouse, frees tits. Nipples harden in cool AC. He sucks, tongue swirling like milking honey. Growls low. Skirt hikes up. Shaved smooth for him. Fingers circle clit, dip in. I’m dripping.
He drops low. Tongue laps greedily. Flicks clit, probes hole. Moans vibrate against me. Grinds jeans on chair leg. Finger fucks me slow, then pumps. Eyes meet—wild. ‘Your turn,’ I gasp. He stands. Shirt off: chiseled pecs, abs carved. Hands roam down. Jean button strains. ‘I’m hung,’ he warns, throbbing.
Pants drop. Cock springs: 9 inches, thick, veined. Grip it. Stroke. Veins pulse. Mouth engulfs. Tongue circles head, salty pre-cum hits tastebuds. Balls heavy, swing. Deep throat, gag a bit. He groans, hips buck. Need him inside.
The Raw Explosion
Condom on. Bend me doggy over table. Legs spread. Licks slit again—sloppy wet. Spits on cock, slaps ass. Tip nudges entrance. I push back. He thrusts—deep, fills me. Groan rips out. Pace builds: slow grinds to jackhammer. Balls slap clit. Finger rims ass, pinches nub. Printer whirs outside. Door locked, but thrill spikes.
Edge hits. ‘Gonna cum?’ He nods, panting. Pull out. Flip. Yank condom. Kneel. Suck tip, jerk shaft. He face-fucks lightly. Lay back, finger myself. ‘Cum on my tits.’ He pumps furious. Face twists pleasure. I shatter—orgasm crashes, pussy clenches air.
First rope hits cheek, hot sticky trail down neck. Jets splatter tits, pool in cleavage. He roars. Six pulses. Semen glistens under fluorescent hum.
Kiss lingers. He smears cum on nipples. Shiver. Wipe quick with tissues. Button blouse—nipples poke. Skirt down, no wet spot yet. Hair smooth. Coffee breath masks sex stink. Unlock door—click. Back to open space like nothing. Files wait. Glance back: his wink. Adrenaline buzz. More to come.