I rush into the office, still buzzing from Manon’s screams on my bed. Her taste lingers on my lips. Coffee brews in the breakroom, mixing with my vanilla perfume. Sharp. Intoxicating. Open space hums. Printer whirs endlessly. Mouse clicks echo like heartbeats.
Stéphane’s desk catches my eye. Our cinema fuck replays in my head. His cock, thick and relentless on that backseat. He glances up. Smirks. Knows. My pussy clenches under my pencil skirt. I nod back, professional mask on. But my nipples harden against my silk blouse.
The Building Tension
Morning meeting drags. Dossiers pile up. His foot brushes mine under the table. Accidental? Bullshit. Heat rises. I shift, thighs rubbing. Dampness soaks my thong. Printer spits paper. Click-click. Door to conference room swings nearby. Opportunity.
“Laura, quick review?” he whispers as we break. Eyes locked. Hungry. I grab files. Follow him. Heart pounds. Open space stares fade as we slip inside. Door clicks shut. Lock snaps. Sealed.
Coffee scent clings to his shirt. My perfume overwhelms. He pins me against the glass wall. “Thought about your tight cunt all night,” he growls. Lips crash. Tongue invades. Rough. Desperate. Hands hike my skirt. Fingers rip thong aside. I’m drenched.
Table clears with a sweep. Papers flutter. I perch on edge. Legs spread wide. He drops to knees. “Fuck, you’re soaked for me.” Tongue dives in. Licks my clit. Sucks hard. I grip his hair. Moan escapes. Muffled by printer drone outside.
“Stéphane… yes… eat that pussy.” He laps faster. Fingers plunge deep. Curling. Hitting my spot. Body arches. Orgasme builds fast. Too fast. I cum on his face. Shuddering. “Ohhh fuck… yes!”
The Explosive Release
He stands. Zipper rasps. Cock springs free. Long. Veiny. Same as backseat. “Bend over.” I obey. Ass up. He slams in. Raw. No condom. Balls slap my thighs. Desk creaks. “Your married cunt owns this dick,” he grunts.
Thrusts brutal. Fast. Conference table shakes. Mouse clicks outside. Someone passes. Door rattles faintly. Adrenaline surges. “Harder… fuck me like the slut I am.” He grips hips. Pounds deeper. Sweat drips. Coffee-parfum haze thickens.
I push back. Grind. “Cum inside me… fill this office whore.” He groans. Swells. Explodes. Hot jets flood me. I clench. Milk him dry. My second orgasm rips through. Legs quake. “Fuuuuck… yesss!”
We freeze. Panting. Cum leaks down thigh. He pulls out. Zips up. I straighten skirt. Wipe lips. Adjust blouse. Nipples still poke. Smear gloss. Innocent smile.
Unlock door. Click. Step out. Files in hand. Open space unchanged. Printer hums on. “Great review, Stéphane,” I say loudly. Colleagues nod. Head to next meeting. Cum squelches inside. Secret thrill pulses. Paul texts: Dinner? I grin. More secrets brewing.