Pushed by Pattie and Gufti, I knock on Revebebe’s door. Heart races. Open space hums behind me. Keyboards clack. Phones buzz. Colleagues glance over. My skirt hugs thighs. Blouse tight. Ambitious climber. I crave the edge.
He opens. Mid-forties. Average build. Brown hair. Brown eyes. IT guy vibe. Smiles. ‘Come in, Padoum.’ Door clicks shut. Locked. Printer whirs nearby. Spits paper. Coffee aroma hits. Strong. Mixes with my perfume. Floral. Seductive.
Rising Tension in the Open Space
Small office. Cluttered desk. Screen glows with erotic tales. Mouse clicks echo. We sit. Me opposite. Notebook out. Legs cross. Skirt rides up. His eyes flick down. Lingers.
‘Revebebe, 1999.’ I start. Voice steady. Pro. He leans back. Talks web pioneers. Free erotica. ASSTR. French gaps. Passion in his tone. Low. Intense. I scribble. But heat builds. His gaze traces my neckline. Blouse strains. Nipples peek.
Open space murmurs filter through. Footsteps. Laughter. Door locked holds it out. Safe bubble. Coffee mug steams between us. I sip. Hot. Tongue burns. Like desire.
‘Name origin? Revebebe.’ He explains. Dream, baby. Fantasy. Warez kink. Rebels. Vampires. Eyes lock. Mine challenge. Ambitious. I shift. Thighs rub. Dampness grows. Printer hums again. Distracts. Or amps tension.
Talk deepens. Rules. No illegal. No incest. No extreme SM. But his words drip rebellion. ‘I love breaking norms.’ Clicks mouse. Shows old posts. My foot brushes his under desk. Accidental? No. Spark.
Hierarchy flips. He’s site god. I’m intruder. Stress morphs lust. Perfume thickens air. Coffee bitter on lips. Breath quickens. Looks sharpen. Between questions. Hungry.
He stands. ‘More coffee?’ Hand grazes mine. Electric. I rise. Close. Bodies near. Desk edge digs thigh.
Explosive Release on the Desk
Grab. Sudden. His mouth crashes. Tongue invades. Rough. Hands yank skirt. Up. Panties rip aside. Fingers probe. Wet. Soaked.
Desk clears. Papers fly. Printer startles. Whirr. He bends me. Cock out. Hard. Thick. Rams in. No prep. Raw stretch. Gasp. Pain-pleasure.
Thrusts brutal. Fast. Desk bangs wall. Creaks. My moans muffled. Hand over mouth. His grunts hot on neck. ‘Fuck, tight slut.’ Dirty. Real. Legs spread. Heels dig carpet. Coffee spills. Mug tips. Scent amps.
Pace frantic. Balls slap. Clit grinds edge. Tension snaps. Orgasm rips. Walls clench. He swells. Pumps deep. Cum floods. Hot. Sticky.
Pulls out. Drip. Quick wipe. Tissues from drawer.
Skirt down. Blouse tucked. Hair smoothed. Lipstick reapplied. Mirror glance. Pro again.
Smile. ‘Thanks for the interview.’ Voice even. He zips. Grins. ‘Anytime.’
Door unlocks. Click. Out. Open space greets. Colleagues nod. Meeting next. Legs jelly. Cum leaks. Thong holds. Adrenaline buzz. Secret thrill. Hierarchy? Fucked it. Luxure wins. Back to game. Ambitious. Unbroken.