Boss’s office. Friday. Serge away in Germany. DĂ©pannage gig. I buzz Phil. ‘Same massage. Hot stones. Very… very… good last time.’ He chuckles. Appointment set. Heart pounds.
Open space buzzes. Printer whirs endlessly. Mouse clicks echo. Colleagues glance. My new C-cups strain blouse. Décolleté deep. They stare. I love it. Ambitious climber. Files between us. Two dossiers. His hand brushes mine. Electricity. Perfume clashes with stale coffee. Tension coils.
Rising Tension in the Open Space
Door slams. Lock clicks sharp. Outside chatter fades. ‘Relax, Stephanie,’ Phil says. Voice low. Pro kinesiologist turned boss. Wellness perk. His cabinet next door, but here? Private. ‘Lie on desk. Cleared it.’ I perch. Skirt hikes. He dims lights. Soft music hums.
‘Face treatment first.’ Cotton pads. Eyes close. Elastic blindfold snug. ‘Stay still.’ Silence thick. ‘Oils next. Greasy. Stain clothes.’ I nod. Unbutton blouse. Bra off. Skirt drops. Panties gone. Naked. Vulnerable. Adrenaline spikes. What if someone knocks?
Oil warms. Slick hands glide. Toes. Calves. Thighs. Ass cheeks kneaded. ‘Chinese tradition. Full body.’ I sigh. Nipples harden. Printer drones faint outside. Door locked holds. He flips me. Belly down. More oil. Spine arches.
Hot stones. Basalt. Burning weight. Low back. Shoulders. Minutes drag. Sensual heat seeps. Stones lift. Flip again. Front now. Oil everywhere. Pussy glistens. Untouched. Teasing. Legs part slight. His breath near.
‘Special stone now.’ Heavy. Phallic. Black. Polished. Gland-shaped tip. Balls below. I gasp. Knows my past. Promo photo. That wild night. Age 20. Orgy. His cock one of many. Memories flood. Stone glides. Between tits. Down belly. Weight presses clit. ‘Oh fuck.’ Hips buck.
Desk Explosion Unleashed
Blindfold hides. But I know. Stone probes. Lips part. Slides in. Heavy. Deep. Girth stretches. ‘Yes… more.’ I moan. Basin lifts. Fucks self on it. Juices coat. Pussy clenches. He guides. In-out. Slow. Then fast. Clit throbs. ‘Gonna cum…’
Blindfold off? No. Desk edge. He clears space. ‘Want the real thing?’ Voice husky. Tutoiement intimate. Stone aside. Zipper rasps. Cock out. Thick. Hard. Better than stone. No condom. Tests done. Raw.
Legs spread. Desk cold on ass. He thrusts. Balls slap. ‘Fuck me, boss. Hard.’ Pounds. Desk creaks. Papers scatter. GĂ©missements loud. Muffled by music. ‘Slut. Knew you’d come back.’ Dirty. True. Pussy grips. Revenge? On Serge’s old affair. Now this.
Builds fast. Tension snaps. I cum. Walls pulse. Squirts slick. He grunts. Fills me. Hot seed. Deep. Collapses. Breaths ragged. Coffee-perfume-sex stench.
Pulls out. Cum drips. Wipe quick. Tissues. Skirt up. Blouse button. Hair smooth. ‘Meeting now?’ He smirks. Unlocks door. Click. Back to open space. Printer whirs. Colleagues nod. Smile pro. Legs shaky. Pussy aches full. Secret burns. Ambitious. Horny. Addicted.