Printer hums in the open space. Click-click of mice. Coffee aroma mixes with my perfume. Last day before vacation. Julien, my 18-year-old nephew, summer intern. Fresh from school. I wear short skirt, deep cleavage hugging my full tits. He arrives at my Perpignan office near the sea. We chat between dossiers. His eyes dart to my chest. I smile. Tension builds. Colleagues glance, whisper. I lock my boss office door. Click. Sealed. ‘Relax, Julien. Show me what stresses you.’ He blushes. I lean over desk, skirt rides up. Firm ass peeks. ‘Like beach days, huh? No tan lines here.’ I unbutton blouse. Bra drops. Tits free, heavy, nipples hard. He stares. Bulge grows in pants. I laugh softly. ‘Erections happen. Even at work.’ His hand trembles. I guide it to my back. Massage like sunscreen rubs. Fingers knead shoulders, slide to ass. Squeeze cheeks. He hardens more. Door rattles faintly outside. Heart races. Risk thrills me. Ambitious pro by day, slut by choice. ‘Now yours,’ I say. He strips fast. Cock springs out, thick, veined. I straddle chair. Perfume clings. Coffee cup steams nearby.
He groans. I push him back. Desk clears with clatter. Papers fly. I drop skirt, thong aside. Pussy lips swell, wet. ‘Stroke it. For me.’ He pumps fist. Eyes on my tits bouncing. I finger myself. Moist sounds mix with mouse clicks from hall. Adrenaline spikes. ‘Caught jerking?’ I tease. ‘Continue.’ His rhythm quickens. I kneel. Hot breath on his shaft. Tongue flicks gland. Salty pre-cum. Suck deep. Gulp. Balls tighten under fingers. He warns. ‘Cum in mouth.’ I nod, eyes locked. Explode. Thick ropes hit throat. Swallow every drop. Lick clean. Sensitive head twitches. Printer whirs louder. Someone passes.
The Mounting Tension
‘Your turn,’ he pants. Cock softens but stirs. I lie on desk. Legs spread wide. ‘Lesson one: clit.’ Thumb up for good, down for shit. Fingers clumsy at first. Thumb down. Adjust. Find hood. Circle soft. Thumb wavers. Wetter now. Dip in pussy juice. Rub firm. Breath hitches. Thumb up. Faster. Hips buck. Mouse click echoes. Door handle jiggles? Panic fuels fire. Orgasme crashes. Walls clench finger. Cry muffled. Body shakes. Waves roll long. Jury approves. Gasp. Adjust bra. Button blouse. Skirt smooth. Wipe desk quick. Unlock door. Click. Perfume freshens. Coffee sip. ‘Meeting now,’ I wink. Stride out. Pro face on. He follows, dazed. Open space buzzes. Secret locked tight.