The office

By Suitandtie101
Dating Profile - Photos - Blog Home

Updated 16 Jul, 20 - 3 Comments.

Waiting for the elevator, I glance your way , my eyes meeting yours as the shock of your beauty quickly erased the morning fog.

As the doors open we head to the back like cattle, the COVID social distancing measures a distant memory. As you stand in front of me I can smell the shampoo in your hair mingled with your soft perfume. The doors start to close until a hand rudely interrupts their motion, and three more workers squeezed their way in, forcing everyone, including you, to shuffle backwards.

With a slight trip you fall back into me, my hands bracing your fall, but with nowhere to go, my crotch was now pressed firmly into the curves of your arse.

You turn your head slightly and whisper sorry; before I know it I’m erect and I’m mortified as I know you must be able to feel it.

The lift stops and it clears slightly, but you remain pushed against me. You discreetly reach back and touch my leg, stroking it slightly, the 6 remaining in the lift none the wiser.

I reciprocate and run my fingers down your arse, under the hem of your skirt, and then up. My fingers lightly brushing your stockinged inner thigh. I feel you shudder against me, the lift slowing as we reach a other floor. The doors open and all other six now exit, leaving just us.

You turn and place your hand on my chest, before reaching up and pulling my head down so that our lips meet. Slowly, softly, so as to not disturb your red lipstick, our tongues lightly dancing.

The lift slows again. It’s your floor. You grab my hand and don’t let go. I willingly follow you out.

The door of your office closed, all lights out. “ It’s just me today” you tell me with a smile, swiping your security card to give us access.
You leave the lights off, tell me to wait and then you remove you shoes, your stockings, and lastly your lacy black thong, before sitting back on your desk and looking at me with a smile.

I lift your legs and you tell me to wait once more. You reach for the corner of your desk and find the button which raises the height until it allows me to release myself from my suit pants, the strain now relieved and then slowly, deliberately, enter you at a perfect angle, as I look into your beautiful, piercing eyes.

All concept of tenderness now gone, you wrap your legs around my waist tightly, fingers digging into my shoulders, hot breath in my ear. “Fuck me” you tell me. “Fuck me” you implore me. “Fuck me” you beg me.
And I do. On your desk. In the dark. Above the city below.