Printer hums low in the corner. Mouse clicks echo across the open space. Coffee aroma mixes with my perfume, barely masking my dragon breath. I’m Berthe, sharp brunette, late thirties, gunning for that promotion. Dossiers stack high. But my eyes flick up. Jean sits across the floor. Cute guy, shy smile. We matched online. Didn’t know we slaved same office. My curse: breath like sewer gas. His: feet that clear rooms. Weeks of hot chats. Pics. Fantasies. Tonight, after hours. The breakroom bench calls. Office legend: sit there, secrets spill. Heart races. Risk of night janitor. Adrenaline spikes.
Last looks over monitors. He nods. I grab coffee mug. Casual. Stride to breakroom. Door swings. Fluorescent buzz. Bench gleams, polished by asses past. Worn wood sighs as we sit close. Hands clasp. Moist palms. Eyes lock. Nerves crackle. ‘Fuck the smells,’ he whispers. Lips crash. Hungry kiss. Tongue dives deep. My stink hits him. His doesn’t faze me. Door latches. Click. Locked.
The Ambience: Tension Builds Between Dossiers
Clothes tear. Blouse rips open. Skirt hikes. His tie whips off. Pants drop. Cock springs hard. Thick. Veiny. I drop to knees. Suck deep. Gagging on my own rot-breath. He groans. ‘Suck it, Berthe.’ Bench creaks under shift. He yanks my panties. Fingers plunge wet pussy. Sloppy sounds. Coffee scent turns musky. I shove him back. Straddle. Sink on cock. Tight grip. Ride hard. Tits bounce. ‘Your feet… show me.’ He kicks shoes. Socks off. Stink waves. Musky cheese hell. I grab one. Suck toe through fabric. Inhale. Twist. He thrusts up. Feral. ‘Dirty bitch, love your stink mouth.’ Bench grinds. Wood moans like lover. Sweat drips. Pussy clenches. Orgasm rips. Scream muffled. He flips me. Ass up. Pounds doggy. Balls slap. Feet press my face. Lick soles. Cum builds. Floods me. Hot jets. Again. Night blurs. Bench vibrates. Magic pulls truth.
Dawn filters blinds. Bodies slick. Hair wild. Pussy aches. Cum leaks. Eyes meet. Soft. ‘Jean… that bench… I gotta confess.’ He grins. ‘Berthe, babe. No need. I know. You sucked my socks.’ Laughter erupts. Free. Bench sighs content. Adjust skirt. Button blouse. Wipe gloss. Smear makeup fixed. Professional mask on. Unlock door. Stride out. Next meeting looms. Heels click. Smile crisp. Thighs slick. Scent lingers. Coffee brews fresh. Gertrude, gossip queen, sniffs air. ‘Whoa, breakroom reeks of hot story.’ Winks. Office shifts after. Smelly singles flock bench. ‘Stink & Fuck’ afterworks. Breath no barrier. Feet? Fetish fuel. Love reeks now. Strong. Musky. Mine.