Printer hums in the open space. Coffee aroma mixes with my perfume. I shuffle files, steal glances at Tistou. The janitor. Boss calls him idiot. Yells at him daily. He mops floors, fixes chairs, imitates the boss behind his back. Makes interns laugh. Today, stress boils. Affair with brother-in-law Raoul haunts me. Need to confess. Door to conference room clicks shut. Locked. Mouse clicks echo outside. Heart races.
I kneel by the table. He’s polishing it. Imitates boss perfectly. ‘Forgive me, sir, I’ve sinned.’ Voice low. Tense. Tell him everything. Raoul visited. Climbed ladder for files. He pissed below. Peered down. Tripped. Landed skirt up, panties in tree. Naked pussy exposed. He stared. ‘Nice fig, Marie.’ Fingered my slit. Licked it. Tongue deep. Said it heals. Made me cum hard. Pulled out huge Morteau sausage. Not like hubby’s tiny sausage. Fucked me senseless. Multiple times. Shame burns.
The Building Tension
He shifts. Voice cracks. ‘Curiosity’s a sin.’ Gets creative. Quotes fake pope encyclical. Pie XII. Says fuck a lonely guy to prevent worse sin. Like with goat. Me. Tonight. Breakroom. His spot. Recite prayer for courage. Adrenaline surges. Door unlocks. Back to desk. Files blur. Glances across space. His eyes hungry. Perfume clings. Coffee cools.
Eight thirty. Husband at hunters’ meet. Drunk till dawn. Sneak to breakroom. Door creaks. He’s naked on cot. Cock stands like candle. Elegant. Thick. Not Raoul’s brute, but sleek. Strip. Perfect tits, flat belly, golden bush. He gawks. Kneel. Sign cross. ‘Forgive me God.’ Suck his tip. Slow. Drool. He groans.
The Raw Explosion
Pulls me up. Lays me down. Head between thighs. Tongue dives in. Sucks clit. Fingers pussy. Thumb on ass. Waves crash. Scream. Better than Raoul. He kisses deep. Cock nudges. Slides in. Firm. Deep. Legs wrap him. Stars explode. Ride him cowgirl. Bounce. ‘So fucking good.’ Doggy next. Ass high. He pounds. Guides to heaven. Spoon finish. Back to chest. Nips neck. Pinches nipples. Cum again. Legs jelly. Slip home. Three AM.
Next day. Pray in corner cubicle. Watch him sweep. Old lady gossips by copier. Boss takes interns away. Tap shoulder. Stern look. Grab hand. ‘Follow. Direct to penance. No confession bullshit.’ He stammers. Lock storage door. Recognize your voice yesterday. More sins. Strip fast. Bend over desk. Fuck me raw. Printer whirs outside. Coffee scent lingers.
We keep it up. Husband dies. Snake from eagle hits him mushroom picking. Cardiac. Marry Tistou. Still confess in attic setup. Even now. Risk thrills. Professional face. Hidden slut.