The office buzzes. Desks empty. Lights dim. His eyes lock on me first. Piercing. Hungry. They strip me slow. My eyelids flutter. Lips part wet. Skin prickles hot. He stares at my neck. Back. Legs. Ass. Then my tits strain for him. Begging. When?
His lips curl. Tiny smirk. Tongue flicks out. Promise of heaven. Nipples harden instant. They know his hot breath coming. Lips nibbling. Sucking. Biting soft. Not breaking the spell. My pussy slicks up. Dripping for his mouth. Vulva aches. If it could scream, whole office hears.
The Awakening
Doors lock. We’re alone. He grabs my neck. Crushes mouth to mine. Tongues tangle wild. Barely breathe. Other hand pins me. His hard belly grinds my molten one. Whispers dirty in my ear. Crude words. Perfect now. No flowery shit. Heightens the raw edge.
His hands rip my top. Tits spill free. He steps back. Eyes devour my half-naked shame. Me exposed. Him dressed. Power rush. Palms cup my breasts. Lift. Caress light. Then knead firm. Feel the bounce. I tug his shirt. No. He strips me total. Naked. Burning. Vulnerable.
Fingers trail down. Brush clit. One dives in. Probes deep. I twist. Moan loud. Faster. ‘I love you.’ Slurred. Gasping.
We stumble to boss’s studio couch. Me bare. Him half-clothed. Stops along way. Wall orgasm. Stair fuck tease. Finally sprawl. His lips map me. Hills of tits. Plains of belly. Ravines wet. I beg loud. He slides in. Thick cock fills hungry cunt. Not ass—no way. Mouth yes. Swallows me whole.
Positions shift. Missionary grind. Doggy pound. Cowgirl ride. Cum waves crash. Again. Again. Collapse sweaty. Red. Blissed.
Quick shower. Dress. He leaves. To her.
He’s not mine. Colleague. Married. Kids. Younger. Uglier. Less fuckable. Knows it deep. Won’t leave. Bullshit.
The Act
Hate imagining. His eyes on her? Lips? Cock in her? Makes me rage. Could kill the bitch.
Valentine’s. He bolts early. No look. No touch. I tail him. Suburb house. Cute nest. Stops for cheap flowers. Volets open. Them naked.
Him? Can’t look. Hurts. Perfect body wasted on her. Saggy tits—no pencil test like mine. Flabby gut. Heavy waist. Soft ass. Prude face. No blowjobs. No ass play. No screams. Quick duty fucks.
Gorgeous man. Love god. Stuck with mediocrity. Lucky he has me. But… also her. Second fiddle? Hope he fucks her less fierce.
Lights out. Imagine worse. His nude glory on her trash body. Rubbing. Penetrating. She cries sudden: ‘Yes, baby, fuck me!’ He growls: ‘I love you.’ Traitor.
Scream dies in throat. Home. Chug champagne. Solo.
Changed. Not my man. Just easy lay? With finesse. Shiver still.
Clock out sharp now. No linger. He eyes intern. Stay late? I warn her: HIV. Lie. But fuck him. Loves wife. Cheats with kid? When he had me?