Printer hums low in the open space. Mouse clicks punctuate the air. Coffee aroma clings, twisted with my sharp perfume. Thom’s eyes flick up from his screen. Meets mine. Holds. Heat builds. That letter he slipped me last week. Handwritten. Trembling words. ‘Put me on my knees, Mistress. Train your puppy.’ My pussy twitches remembering.
Week drags. Daily lunches. Feet brush under table. No talk. Just stares. His blush deepens. I cross legs slow. Stockings whisper. He shifts. Uncomfortable. Hard? Printer spits paper. Distracts. But tension coils tighter. Ambitious exec by day. Hidden slut queen underneath. Adrenaline spikes. What if caught? HR nightmare. Fuck, that turns me on.
The Building Tension
Friday late. Open space thins. Colleagues log off. ‘Conference room. Now.’ I mouth. He nods. Sweats. Door swings shut. Lock clicks sharp. Echoes. Alone. Smirk curls my lips. ‘Missed you, Doudou.’ His pet name from the letter. Eyes widen. ‘Charline, please…’
‘The fuck you say. Strip.’ Voice steel. Shirt peels off. Chest bare. Belt unclasps. Pants pool. Cock springs free. Thick. Veiny. Throbs. Kneel. Boots thud carpet. ‘Worship.’ Zipper rasps. Heel slips off. Nylon foot points. Lips press. Tongue darts. Licks arch. Sucks toes. Wet slurps fill room. Mouse forgotten outside. My hand dives skirt. Fingers circle clit. Wet smacks. ‘Flip-flop.’ He hears. Groans into sole.
The Explosive Release and Cool Mask
‘Good boy. Table. Eat Mistress.’ Papers crunch. Ass plants wood. Legs splay. Panties yank aside. Face buries. Tongue plunges folds. Laps clit. Fingers grip hair. Pull hard. ‘Deeper, puppy! Make me squirt.’ Hips buck. Breath hitches. Orgasms rips. Juices flood mouth. He gulps. Gasps.
Cock begs. ‘Please, fuck your toy.’ Bend him back. No. Me over table. Skirt hikes. Heels dig. ‘Ram it. Own this pussy.’ Slams in. Desk rattles. Grunts echo. Skin slaps. ‘Harder! Breed your bitch!’ Balls smack ass. Tension peaks. He unloads. Hot spurts fill. Pulls out. Drip leaks.
Wipe quick. Tissues from drawer. Skirt smooths. Blouse tucks. Perfume spritz covers musk. Hair pins straight. ‘Meeting done.’ Unlock. Click. Step out. Smile crisp. ‘Great talk, Thom.’ Back to desk. Printer whirs on. Clicks resume. Coffee cools. No one knows. Mask perfect. Heart pounds wild. Rush lingers. Weekends? More fantasies from the shoebox. But office? Our dirty secret now. Fifty years later, still married. Box kept. Flame burns.