Printer hums in the corner of my small office behind the Oostburg library stacks. Mouse clicks echo as I demo my software to Frank Appelghem. He’s early, French accent thick, eyes lingering on my green suit cleavage. Coffee brews on the desk, mixing with my floral perfume. Open space beyond the door buzzes faintly with early visitors. Door’s ajar for now. Tension crackles. We talk néerlands, his curious accent amuses me. Books drop earlier, we kneel close, his face inches from my tits. Scent of him hits me. Back at desk, he praises the code. ‘You wrote this?’ Shock in his voice. I nod, cheeks flush. Share pain—Henk’s betrayal at altar, his wife’s crash. Hand on my arm, warm. Silence heavy. Knee brushes mine under desk. Looks lock. Heart races. Risk of interruption spikes thrill. I crave it. Pro facade cracks. His gaze drops to my knees, skirt tight. Printer spits pages. Door creaks. No one. Breath quickens. ‘You okay?’ he whispers. I nod, bite lip. Fingers twitch on mouse. Click. Click. Coffee steam rises. Perfume clings. Adrenaline surges. I want him now.
Door slams shut. Lock clicks sharp. No time for words. Push him back on desk. Papers fly. His pants unzip fast. Cock springs hard, thick. Grab it. Stroke rough. ‘Fuck, Mieke,’ he groans, French growl. I drop, suck deep. Salty pre-cum coats tongue. He yanks my blouse, tits spill from bra. Pinches nipples hard. I pop off, hike skirt. No panties today—risky slut move. Pussy wet, piercing glints. He sees ring, eyes widen. Fingers hook it, tug. ‘God, your clit.’ Pulls me up. Desk cold on ass. Spread legs wide. His mouth dives. Tongue flicks ring, sucks clit through gold. Mini-cock throbs. ‘Ja, eat me,’ I hiss. Printer whirs ignored. Coffee spills, scent sharper. Fingers plunge pussy, two then three. I grind face. Cum builds fast. Noisy library outside—footsteps. Thrill explodes. Push him flat. Straddle. Cock spears deep. Wet squelch. Ride hard. Desk rattles. Tits bounce wild. He grabs ass, spanks. ‘Neuk me harder!’ I gasp. Pubes grind piercing. Balls slap. Sweat mixes coffee-perfume haze. Tension peaks. Fuck frantic. His thumb rims ass. Pushes in. Double stuffed. I shatter. Pussy clamps. He grunts, floods me hot. Cum leaks. Bodies quake. Quick, raw, intense.
The Build-Up
Cum drips thighs. Wipe quick with tissue. Printer page flutters down. Straighten skirt, button blouse. Nipples poke fabric. Smear lipstick fixed. Unlock door. Click. Heart pounds. Face pro smile. Back to stacks as kids swarm in—noise erupts. Frank adjusts tie, grabs coffee mug. We nod casual. ‘Software perfect,’ he says loud. Eyes wink secret. I shelve books, pussy throbbing. Thighs slick. No one suspects. Rush of forbidden lust lingers. Pro mask on. Inside, craving more. Door locked memory burns.