Printer hums in the open-space. Distant clicks of mice. Coffee scent lingers, mixing with my perfume. Tension builds between stacks of dossiers. His dark eyes catch mine across desks. I tug my long skirt. Heart races. First ‘meeting’ after his hospital stay. I cared for him there, held his hand. Now, back at work. Ambitious assistant. Craving the forbidden.
I freeze at his office door. Breath catches. Tug skirt again. It’s long, bronze-gold, fine fabric. Not slutty. Top suggestive: black lace, short sleeves, asymmetric, bare shoulder freckled. Chignon with copper curls escaping. Bright red lips. Underneath? Dilemma. Peachy floral silk bra. Pearl-string thong matching my necklace and ankle chain. Bought it after spotting his magazine—dog-eared page of a blonde in pearls, under his desk blotter.
The Building Tension
Knock soft. Wheelchair whirs. Door opens. He’s flushed, eyes gleaming. Scans me. Loves freckles. Hates the skirt. ‘Hiding those legs? Pantsuit shows calves. This? Nun mode!’ Laughs awkward. I blush crimson. Vexed. Hideous. Silence thick. He coughs. I sip air.
He nods to stereo. I rise. Eyes meet. Mine misty. He stammers, ‘Didn’t mean to offend.’ Smile weak. His cocker eyes melt me. Stool at his feet. Take his hand. Thick, manly palm. Hot. Kiss fingers slow. Trace knuckles. He yields. Free hand strokes my shoulder. Velvet skin. Frissons spine-tingle.
Open-space murmurs fade. Door locked—sharp click. Coffee aroma spikes with my heat. I need his power. Roles reverse. He owns me now.
His touch boldens. I rise. Eyes lock: playful, hungry. Undo top buttons. It slips. Bra peeks—peach silk, nipples hard. Smile wicked. Hands cup breasts. Hips sway. Head back, neck arched, pearls gleam. Hand dives under skirt. Fingers circle clit. Wrist twists. Breaths ragged. Eyes half-shut.
He grabs hips. Pulls. I straddle air, still rubbing. Skirt drops. Ankles bare—pearl chain. Face to my mound. Nuzzles pubis. Soap, perfume, salty pussy. Thong white lace front, pearl strand back—nestled in ass crack. He grins. ‘My pearl oyster.’ Mouth blows fabric. Hands knead cheeks. I moan low.
The Explosive Release
Finger slips lace. Lips swollen. Dips in—wet. Two fingers now. Glide pussy to clit. I buck wild. Turned. Bent over desk. Ass up. He spreads cheeks. Thumb tastes my juice. Salty sweet. Pelts thighs, knees.
I crave more. Climb desk. Flat back. Legs bent, spread. Ballerinas on edge. He wheels close—perfect height. Grips ankles. Beard stubble rasps. ‘Lick me!’ I growl. Tongue dives. Sucks clit. Tongue fucks hole. Thumb rims ass, slips in.
Printer whirs outside. Risk thrills. Coffee-perfume haze. I shatter. ‘Gonna cum!’ Squirt floods his mouth. Cry raw. He thrusts tongue, two thumbs—pussy, ass. Jolts hit him. Dry orgasm rips. Powerful waves.
We slump. Smiles dazed. No cock needed. Bliss pure.
I straighten bra. Button top. Skirt up—pearls hidden. Wipe desk quick. Kiss forehead. ‘Meeting now.’ Unlock door—click. Stride open-space. Cool pro. Desk calls. He wheels out later. Eyes wink. Secret sealed. Adrenaline buzzes. Back to files. Lust masked.