Printer hums outside. Low drone. Colleagues murmur in the open space. Door clicks shut. Locked. Coffee aroma hits, sharp, mixed with his cologne. Musky. Intoxicating. Heart races. I’m Amelie, ambitious analyst. Six years here. Stable. With Mark, my boss, same time. Partners in crime. Eyes locked earlier. Across desks. Between thick dossiers. His stare burns. Hungry. I know that look.
He paces. Nervous. ‘Sit, Amelie. Calm down.’ Voice low. Tense. Fingers click mouse absentmindedly. No one interrupts meetings here. Tension coils. Like wire. My skirt hikes up. Thighs press. He leans in. Breath hot. ‘I fucked a pro this afternoon. Hooker. High-end.’ Shocked? Yes. But wet already. Adrenaline spikes. Risk of HR door knock. Printer spits paper. Distant thud.
Tension Builds Between the Files
‘Listen.’ Short breaths. ‘Six years loyal. Same firm. Like us.’ He grips desk edge. Knuckles white. ‘Paparazzi? Nah. Colleague snapped pic. Awkward angle. Kamasutra trap.’ Laughs bitter. Coffee steam curls. Perfume clings to my blouse. ‘Strip. Now. Truth for nudity.’ Command cracks. I obey. Blouse unbuttons. Bra snaps free. Breasts spill. Nipples hard. ‘Good girl. Crotch aches? Touch.’ Fingers slide down. Wet. Soaking.
Our start? Wild. Six years back. Breakroom. I squat piss. Door swings. He catches me. Eyes lock. Urine trickles shoes. He kisses. Claims. Magic sparks. Now pros. ‘I’m exec pro. Need sex pro. Levels up.’ Fingers circle clit. Moan escapes. ‘Her name Olga. St. Petersburg elite. Kamasutra master. Teaches me.’ Jealous? Hotter. Office walls thin. Phone vibrates outside. Ignore.
Explosive Release on the Table
‘Thank me later.’ Grins wicked. Pants unzip. Cock springs. Thick. Veined. ‘Bee position. Watch.’ Sits table edge. Legs straight. ‘Back to me. Squat. Hands feet brace.’ I climb. Accroupi. Pussy hovers. Guides in. Fills. Stretch. Gasp. ‘Queen bee. Ride.’ Bounce. Slow. Table creaks. His hands grip ass. Fingers dig. Butters kisses neck. Laps sweat. ‘Can’t escape easy. Like with her. Snap! Caught.’ Thrust up. Hits deep. G-spot sparks.
Faster. Slaps echo. Wet smacks. Pussy grips. Milks. ‘Pros push limits.’ Grunts. Sweat drips. Perfume mixes cum scent. Door rattles? No. Imagination. Climax builds. Tense. ‘Fans? Execs hate. Need show united.’ I grind. Hips roll. ‘Mark Sunday goal? Kiss logo. Prove straight.’ Laugh. Moan. Explode. Cum floods. Shudders rack. He pumps. Fills. Hot jets. Collapse. Panting.
Pull off. Cum drips thighs. Wipe quick. Tissues rustle. Skirt smooths. Blouse buttons. Hair pins up. Mirror check. Fresh. Innocent. He zips. Desk straightens. Coffee cold now. Door unlocks. Click. Back to open space. Smiles nod. ‘Meeting resumes.’ Colleagues none wiser. Mask on. Pro again. But pussy throbs. Secret burns. Olga joins soon? Threesome tease. Amateur love? Nah. This thrill. Addictive.