Monday afternoon. Staff laundry room in our Sarajevo outpost office. Printer hums low. Mouse clicks sharp from my desk. Stale coffee reeks, mixes with my vanilla perfume. I’m alone. Door ajar. Tears soak my face. Brother buried today. Last family gone. Husband, son sniped years ago. Ambitious me, managing this crew, breaking glass ceilings in chaos. But now, shattered.
Laurent knocks. Enters. Exhausted from overnight electrical fix on the TACAN radar project. Cold bites him. Open-space glances earlier caught my red eyes. He checks laundry. Finds me slumped. ‘What’s wrong, Anja?’ Voice soft. Kneels. I sob into his chest. His arms wrap tight. Warmth hits. Heart races. Adrenaline spikes. Colleagues outside. Risky.
The Mounting Tension
He wipes my tears. Tissues rustle. Mascara streaks. Our eyes lock. Black stare meets his. ‘Kiss me. Need love now.’ Lips crash. Velvet soft. Tongues dance slow. Hands roam. I shrug off jacket. Printer drones on. Door? He bolts it. Click echoes loud. Tension coils. Fingers unbutton blouse. Bra strains. He palms my heavy tits. Firm, full. Nipples harden under thumbs. Pinch. Twist. I moan. Coffee scent thickens with arousal.
Skirt drops. Panties peek. Black lace wedges ass. He spreads cheeks. Tongue dives crack. ‘No, dirty!’ ‘Fuck no, perfect.’ Licks deep. Asshole twitches. First time tongued there. Shame burns hot. Excites more. Bend over desk. Legs spread. Pussy drips. He laps lips. Sucks clit. Tongue fucks hole. Fingers probe ass. One thumb. Then two. Stretch. I buck. Squirt hits his chin. Gush floods. He drinks.
Spin. Yank pants down. Cock springs. Thick. Veins pulse. Kneel. Swallow whole. Gags throat. Balls slap chin. Tongue swirls frenulum. Jerk shaft. Eyes up. Devilish grin. He groans. ‘Stop or cum.’ ‘Give ass now.’ Condom rips. Desk edge. Legs up. Pussy waits. Bald strip leads down. Lips flower. Plunge in. Butter wet. Pound hard. ‘Da, jače!’ Faster. Clit rubs furious. Squirt arcs. Soaks pubes.
The Explosive Release
Flip. Ass up. Virgin hole gapes. Head presses. Slow breach. Ring yields. Inch by inch. Pain-pleasure mix. Stretch full. Build speed. Balls smack. Deeper. Alternate pussy-ass. Slick switch. She howls. Clit frenzy. Another squirt. Mine builds. Balls tighten. Flood condom. Collapse. Kiss deep. Breathe ragged.
Clock ticks. Voices outside. Quick fix. Clothes snap on. Bra hooks. Skirt zips. Lipstick smears fixed. Unlock door. Click. He grabs clean laundry. Smile pro. ‘Thanks, Anja.’ Wink. I nod. ‘Tomorrow?’ He grins. Out he goes. Open-space buzz resumes. I sit. Legs shake. Cum leaks. Thrill lingers. Mask on. Meeting next. Ambitious facade. Secret fire burns.
Days blur. He returns. Daily fucks. Laundry pretext. Heart heals in lust. Nineteen years on. Married him. France home. Kids thrive. Croatia summers. Still crave that rush. Office siren forever.