Tete-a-Tete (closed)

[scribe_m]

It was Friday afternoon, and I wanted to fuck her. We worked in a white, sterile, corporate drone world, of cubicles and recyled air. The glass panes were miles away, only visible when we popped our heads up, prarie dogs. I wanted her pussy so bad, my cock straining in my casual relaxed office code Friday except when a client is visiting but never sees anyone beside the heads pants, wanting to feel her soft vaginal walls around my hard stiff cock.

We did this every Friday, every hot sweaty Friday as we anticipated fucking each other after work on a Friday afternoon. I looked at the clock, and it was now seven. Seven-o-fucking clock. It was time to put away the papers I never read, the forms I failed to fill. I wanted pussy and she had it for me.

I made my way up the stairway and saw her. Her fucking beautiful body covered by the dress code that would never end. Her beautiful conservative skirt ready to fall onto the ground, her buttoned top that hid all her features. I wanted to fuck her from behind, scooping up her beautiful breasts in the palms of my hands, while pounding her with my wonderful swollen meat.

"Ready?" I asked.

Reference: http://simplysaras.tumblr.com/post/5400547116

 

[hereiam_1971]

I had watched the clock on my computer move agonizingly slow; my panties were already soaked in the anticipation of what was going to happen to me. I kept my head down as the other office personnel, left our sterile work environment for their Friday night weekend begins rituals. Twice someone stopped and I heard from over my computer screen; “Hey Darcy; you going to join us for a drink?”
Both times I shook my head, pretending to be concentrating on the end of some big project or another. I imagined they could smell my pussy; smell the arousal that I had been building all afternoon. He had caught my eye as I came back from lunch; and his smile had let me know that we were still on for our Friday tête-à-tête,

My mind all day had gone back three weeks to our first tryst in the copy room. Well maybe a tryst wasn’t what one would call it, but it was the beginning. All week, he had been subtly flirting with me; and while I had never considered taking the step I was about to take; I looked forward to the attention. He was cute, a young Sean Bean I had often thought, though very corporate in attire. We had rarely had a reason to talk, but his facial expressions and mannerisms spoke loudly to me, and I was craving the attention.

Finally, as the building emptied and I found myself in the copy room; running a set of legal documents. My husband was to pick me up; a rare anomaly, but had called me and told me he was running late. As the machine whirred, I felt a hand run down my shoulder and gently cupped my breast, squeezing it firmly. I knew it was him.

I let him leave his hand on my breast, and as he kneaded it, I felt his body press against my back. His free hand slid down, and then up, under my skirt. His fingers danced up my thigh until he reached the top of my stocking. “Nice,” his voice came to my ear, as his hand s working my body. I should have pushed away; turned and slid out from between him and the machine, but instead I found myself pushing back against him.

His fingers found my nipple, rolling it against the material of the bra and of the shirt I wore. The hand on my thigh inched upward, following the small gap of flesh between the top of my stocking and my panties. My ass pushed back, and I stiffened slightly as I felt the hardness of his cock press against my back. His fingers slid along the side of my thigh and came to rest just on the band of my panties.

My heart was thumping, my breath heavy. I knew I should push back; push him away, I was letting him touch me in a way that only my husband should; except he never did. I stayed, my stomach almost contracting as I found my elf turned on. The fingers around my nipple rolled it again, rubbing the soft nub with the cloth of my bra. “I want you to suck me Darcy,” his voice came again to my ear, blowing softly as he spoke.

At his words I felt myself stiffen. Again I thought of fleeing, but I stood there. His hands continued to manipulate me, the one on my breast, gently but firmly caressing, and the pinky of the other hand sliding in the waistband of my panties. Again, his voice came softly in my ear. “Suck my cock for me Darcy.”
I knew I would, but even as I turned to slide down his body to my knees I protested, “My husband is going to pick me up in a few minutes.”

He did not respond to my protests and as I felt my knees hit the rough carpet of the copy room, he was already opening the fly of his Brooks Brothers pants. I heard my breath suck in as he pulled his cock free of the confines of the tailored pants and let it hang there. I could feel my eyes widen, and I found myself staring up at him, my hand involuntarily grasping the shaft that he had released.
The cock that bounced in front of me was big, I don’t mean Ron Jeremy big, but it was definitely larger than my husbands penis. I glanced up again, his eyes meeting mine as I, unable to help myself, leaned forward to touch the tip of his cock with my tongue. My stomach almost heaved as I realized I was about to suck this man, not my husbands, dick.

I leaned forward and took the head in my mouth; it filled my mouth and I tried to run my tongue along the spongy head. My eyes looked up as my hand reached to encircle his shaft. He caught my wrist, before I could grasp his cock, and, not so gently, pushed forward. I knew then I wasn’t going to give a blow job.

He fucked my mouth, his hand had moved back to hold my head, as he pushed his cock in and out of my mouth; I tried to graze it with my lips and miss it with my teeth. I could barely breathe, and found myself gagging around the intruding shaft that pressed against the back of my throat again and again. I felt my eyes water as I gasped for air around his cock. It wasn’t brutal, it was just firm, even and I found my own excitement level bounding upward.

I could tell he was getting close, and he pulled out. “Not on my face, please,” I cried hoarsely, my throat raspy from his assault.

His hand again head as he then guided his cock, all eight inches, back into my mouth. I felt his coarse pubic hair against my lips as he pushed all the way into my throat. I felt his cock start to jump and tried to pull back. He filled my mouth, his thick cum slid down my throat, and again I began to cough. He held my mouth on his cock for a few moments more, as he continued to ejaculate.

I couldn’t let any of it escape; I heard my phone ringing an knew it was my husband letting me know he was in the parking garage waiting for me.. Again I looked up at him; his eyes meeting mine, a sly smile on his face. I felt ashamed, but at the same time was extremely excited, and I knew that if my husband wasn’t waiting for me in the garage, I’d have let this man fuck me. He knew it too, since his next words to me were.

“Next Friday Darcy, and don’t wear any panties.”

With that he turned and left the copy room, leaving me to wonder how I was going to explain my disheveled appearance to my spouse. If my husband suspected, he said nothing. Our ride home was silent, but when I tried to get him to be a bit more adventurous that night in bed, I received nothing. Thus, the following Friday I went to the copy room, sans my little black panties.

Now it was Friday again, and I couldn’t stop staring down the hall of cubicles to his office; the door open and his feet visible on his desk. The clock was crawling as I could barely keep from squirming in my chair. I checked again, my husband’s text that he would be late and would meet me at home; I had fired back a quick reply. “Still stuck at work, will be home soon.”

Glancing up I saw him walking my way. The rest of the office had emptied out and it was time. He rested in his forearms, looking down at me over the cubicle wall and said. “ReadY?”

 

[scribe_m]

I smiled at her after lunch. It was my sign that we were going to fuck again. I had my eye on her quite awhile, or at least for the last few weeks. A smile here... a touch on the arm there... perhaps even a joke or two. Eventually, I simply decided to take her. To fuck her, deep and hard. Climax in her mouth and pussy. It was unfortunately that I didn't fuck her snatch that week, but I love oral and I love climaxing on a woman's face. I want to see my sperm, a white trail of slime on a pristine jacket. I want to lift that tight little skirt so I can fuck that wet little slit underneath. She was there, there in the copy room, late on a Friday evening. I touched her shoulder, indicating I wanted sex. Then ran my hand down, cupping her firm breast. It felt good in my hands, the softness and knowledge I could do this to her, my personal fucktool for my hard pleasure. I continued to play with her body. As one hand kneaded and fondled her chest, the other felt her leg and slipped up her skirt. I could feel her bra through her top and slowly felt for her nipple.

"Nice..." I whispered, feeling her soft skin, just below my warm lips. My hand made its way under her skirt, feeling her outer thigh, then delicious ass. I gave it a good squeeze and pinch, as I began to claim her. I ran my fingertips underneath her stocking, then under her panties, tracing the pantyline underneath, almost reaching for her sex. Her response to me, of pushing her back against me told me many things, as my hardon was willing to reply. I could now feel her nipple, erect and firm, within my fingertips, still pressed against her bra. I blew into her ear, my hot breath as heated as the blood in my thick firm cock, now pressed firmly against her.

“I want you to suck me Darcy," I hissed, my cock its own sort of snake. She stiffened, perhaps both at my firmness of cock and heated words. I wanted her lips around my me, sucking heavily, fucking me with her sweet lips and wet tongue. My fingertips played with her panties, delicious underthings for my pleasure alone. “Suck my cock for me Darcy,” I said. I pressed her down to the floor, my hands against her shoulderpads, my hands in her pristine hair. I wanted her sliding her wet mouth against the underside of my cock, coaxing my sticky salty precome into her, as I fucked her tender lips with my hard stiff cock.

She said something, as I unzipped my slacks. My cock sprung out, my delicious manhood ready for her to suck. It was stiff, yet hung there, a snake mesmerizing my little bird. I watched her pretty eyes become large as saucers, as she realized at the blessing of my engorged cock. I looked down at her again, smiling, as she gripped my member and looked up at me. She was my delicious little toy, her tongue sliding underneath my firming, stiffening cock. I groaned a bit, as she begun to take me, my red purple mushroom disappearign within her petite little mouth. I wanted more, as I pulled her hand, forcing my thick hard member down as far as possible into her slattern wet throat. I fucked her mouth, my hand at the back of her head forcing her to take my stiff swollen tool down her hot wet throat. I could just imagine my precome, sticky and salty, mixing with her saliva in the back of her throat. I pressed her firm, her thick hard gagging causing her to rub her throat against my hard spongy head. I could feel myself rise, the feeling of one's balls beginning to recede into the body, the tightness at the base of the balls to send the splash of hot sticky come into a woman's mouth.

“Not on my face, please,” I heard. Barely aware of her plea, I pressed again her face against my cock, this time more firmly. I buried her face into my hair, and pushed almost deeper into her mouth. Cursing my quickness, my cock started to erupt, sending freely the white hot sticky come into her mouth, flooding it with delicious salty cream. Her coughs encouraged me to spasm, thrusting my sperm deeply into her, nearly overflowing her mouth. The timing, perhaps, was fortuitous, as her phone rang and I smiled. I looked down at her at contentment, and said but a few words.

“Next Friday Darcy, and don’t wear any panties.” I turned away from her, leaving her to whatever fate the phone ring was about. A husband? A boyfriend? Perhaps a dinner with her friends. Whatever it would be, it would be with the stain of my come on her beautiful delicious lips.

The next week was uneventful. I left a note to her that she was not to touch herself between her legs or upon her breasts. During a meeting, I had her sit next to me, my left hand resting upon her thigh. I slid my fingertips underneath her skirt, and rubbed her outer thighs with my fingertips. I then pulled her thigh aspread, allowing my fingers access to her dirty pantied snatched. I rubbed her slit, up and down, with my fingers, as the meeting progressed. I slid them around her nub, pressing my fingertips into the silken dark fabric. Another time, we were in the escalator, fully packed with other people. I ran my hands up and down her ass, feeling for the crack between her cheeks, and, again, feeling up the skirt. My hardon pressed against her backside, slowly, methodically, riding up her as the elevator rose. The next time was at the water fountain. She had bent over for a drink, and I grasped her breast, kneeding the soft firmness with my hand, pressing the flesh between my fingertips. Her nipple responded as she drank, the water dripping off her chin as I tweaked her precious nub.

It was now Friday and the others had left the building. Just me and her, my cock and my delicious little fucktoy. I made my way, my swollen member apparent within my tailored pants. I leaned over the half-wall cubile and looked at her. "Ready?" I said. It was not a question. It was a command for her to prepare herself for the evneing. I looked deeply into her eyes and reached down, my hand cradling her beautiful chin. I lifted her from her seat and kissed her, my tongue forcing itself between her lips as I groped her with my other hand, feeling again for those tits. I squeezed her breast, firm, soft, through the familiar bra. Still holding her chin, I began to undress her, my hand ripping off her blouse, her buttons falling to her desk. My hand moved slowly from her chin to her throat, as I face fucked her with my tongue, thrusting deep and wet inside of her. I let go, a trail of wet saliva crossing between our mouths. I wiped my face with my hand. I gripped her wrist, and led her towards the stairwell. The less used copy machine room was upstairs, but I had plans for her here. Closing the heavy door behind us, I forced her against the wall, her breasts pushed into the cold concrete in front of her. I lifted her skirt and smiled, "Good, good. No panties. And look..." I stuck a finger between her legs and felt for her wetness of her pussy. "You're all fucking wet. You wanted it all day, didn't you? No. All week. You wanted my fucking cock in your pussy the whole goddamn week. You're a whore. A fucking whore." I raised my hand and slapped her ass. "Tell me you're a whore. Your my own fucking whore and I'm going to stick my cock in you." I unzipped my pants, releasing my monster, already seeping precome. I slapped the head of my cock against her ass, the sticky wet clear fluid grazing her ass. I then slapper her ass again, the stinging enhanced by my liquid clearness. "Except I'm not gonna stick my cock in your pussy just yet. Oh, no. I'm gonna stick it up your ass. Your tight fucking ass. Your tight dry fucking ass." And with that, I put the head of my cock at her bunghole opening and forced myself in.