We Meet, We Kiss, She Leaves, But In Between...
I had to get my rocks off, and she was exactly the right person for the job. Ambitious, busy, too busy for romance or time-consuming dates over coffee.
I tapped in a text and pressed send.
The office was empty except for me. I worked by the light of a desk lamp, a scene reminiscent of a murder mystery from back in the day.
You don’t know how hard it was to negotiate a shift from those automatic overhead lights that flood the place with high-energy glare.
She arrived late. I didn’t care I’d been busy too.
I hadn’t even noticed the time, although my PA left hours earlier, and she was always the last to leave, apart from me.
I heard the ping of the lift / elevator. Her heels soft on the carpet, needle sharp in the bedroom.
Tonight I didn’t have time for hotels, but my office had a sofa. We’d fucked there before.
My breath caught in my throat when she entered. Her beauty often took me off guard.
I guess I should be used to it, but I dread that day.
She walked straight to my desk, unbuttoned her fitted jacket, and pulled it open to reveal a white lace camisole. Her dark nipples hard, prominent, demanding.
My cock twitched in response.
I licked my lips, hadn’t meant to betray my lascivious thoughts, but fuck, she looked delicious.
Unfastening her skirt, it slid from her hips. This wasn’t a teasing striptease, just one of necessity.
Matching thong. I’d expect nothing less. Her pubes, always trimmed and waxed to perfection. Today was no different. She was the definition of high maintenance, and I loved her for it.
Suit laid over the chair back, she walked around my desk.
I pushed back my chair, my legs invitingly wide, my hard cock already in my fist.
She trailed her long fingernails over my shoulder, but then instead of dropping to her knees as I’d hoped, she walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows to stare out at the cityscape.
A blaze of car and street lights, together with empty office blocks, glared outside the heavy tints.
Her hands slapped on the glass as she took up a prone position. Police search style, her feet planted wide. Her globe ass cheeks inviting me to approach.
I stood, peeled my trousers to my hips. My cock solid and ramrod hard for her as always.
I positively strutted over to her.
She watched my reflection. Held its eye contact until I gripped her hip and ragged her underwear to one side.
I love the feel of her softness over the hip bone. The power of knowing I can take her is irresistible. To my shame, I often leave bruises there, I have to, but she always comes back for more. I do kiss the marks better, sometimes.
I bit her neck, ran my hands over her silhouette, claim it over again.
My addiction.
She leant forward, pressed her cheek on the cold glass, her back arched, ass pushed out, ready to take me.
I slid my wet end up and down her crack, then without a word or more strokes of persuasion, I fucked into her.
Hard.
The slap of my balls on her gash, my cock at her wall, made her gasp. Bite her lip.
Her hands braced, nails scraping on the glass. Her legs tensed to hold her position for me. She muttered just one word.
‘Harder.’
I didn’t need persuading and hammered into her with a vengeance for the perceived wrongs of the day.
I clawed at her hips. Rammed into her depths so hard our bones collided with bruising predicability.
My hips pumped like a machine until I felt her tighten.
She moaned in that way she has when she loses control. It always sounds like reluctance, almost disappointment.
Fuck disappointment!
I lost it, of course, and we crashed together, the stench of us filling the room.
She stood, I slid from her. My load dripping on her inner thighs. I wiped my stickiness on her slutty fat ass. She loves that, I know, her arrogant self-satisified wiggle reaffirmed that for me.
She turned, kissed me, a lip crushing statement of gratitude but nothing more.
I watched her every move. A hawk and its prey.
Leaving the room, she shook out her hair, roughly restyled it.
I spun my chair, smiled at the handprints on the glass, then picked up my pen.
When we argue our cases tomorrow, across the court room, we will hold eye contact, neither of us will admit defeat.
We never do.
Everyone’s a winner, right?