Something I’ve always done is imagine the people around me and their thoughts on sex. Not in a creepy way like I actually imagine them HAVING sex, but rather what kind of sex they are into. Like right now at work, I could kinda tell you what kind of sexual person everyone around me is, the sorts of things they like. There is Jessica for example, about as close to Barbie as anyone could get naturally. Damn near six feet tall, curves in all the right places, breasts that would make Jesus blush. She loves to wear clothes to work that are just on the edge of slutty. They even rewrote the dress code because of her. Regular length skirts on her were just begging to show something naughty. I had her pegged as an absolute dom. Her job in the office was kinda the gopher. She was sent here and there to do menial work like filing and copying. Quite compliant really, but you could see the rebellious streak in her.
Then there is Mark. Mark has to be a guy that likes to be punished. If I know anyone that is into scat play and golden showers, its Mark. Mark is the boss. He runs the entire office and everyone kisses his ass. With three diplomas on his wall, the keys to a Mercedes hanging from his belt, the iWatch on his wrist, and the diamond winking from his pinky ring, you can tell he has had it all from the moment he was born. Someone so used to getting everything handed to them definitely has to crave something different. Probably likes getting spanked, and just treated like garbage. They say men in power are into that sort of thing.
So it was weird when Erica started working in our office, because I couldn’t place her at all. On the surface she was the girl next door, so I would have just imagined her liking plain old vanilla missionary and likely not trying much more. Since she worked in the cubicle next to me we got to know each other in the first weeks of her employment and I learned a few things.
Firstly, under the places her clothes covered including the long sleeves she wore every single day, she was covered in intricate tattoos. A lot of it was very traditional stuff like nautical Sailor Jerry reminiscent work or skulls. But there were also some black and white, incredibly detailed pieces, like a set of clasped hands at her collarbone. Plus some of your typical teenaged pieces like tribals and whatnot. It had me wondering what she had in places that weren’t safe for work.
Secondly, her clothes were mostly plain and basic like a simple pink shirt with brown cardigan over a long black skirt or a pastel dress with long sleeved white shirt under. But no matter the outfit she wore, the shoes were a statement unto themselves. Leather boots with many straps and studs. Flashy heels with metal spikes. Dorothy’s red ruby slippers. Even old school Chucks. While they matched from a color perspective, the shoes never matched from a style perspective. It really had me guessing.
I had to find out. I had to know. So I asked her out. She said yes and seemed very happy that I had asked. I let her choose the movie, but I chose the dinner. Dinner was classic American fare at an elevated scale diner, and the movie was a romantic comedy that I had neither heard of, nor after seeing it, liked. Didn’t matter, the company was fantastic. We had a great time and ended the nice with a chaste but likeable kiss. I was still confused. She showed up to the date in similar clothes to what she wore to work, ordered a standard burger and fries, and even the movie was something all the women I knew wanted to see. So… standard.
Well, last night we went on our third date. And I have so much more to report. Erica is certainly not plain, nor standard. The date started out like both of the previous dates only we did movie first and meal after. It was getting kinda late, almost eleven o’clock and our waitress was giving us looks, but we kept sitting there talking and having a great time. I knew I wanted to bring her back to my place, and had some things in mind but I didn’t want to push it. She got up to use the restroom, and when she came back the blouse she was wearing was no longer buttoned up to the top and I could see the edge of a black lace bra peeking out between the folds of the white blouse. As we continued talking, she rested her fingertips often on that patch of skin and I knew it was a sign.
“I love talking to you, and could talk all night but I think our waitress really wants to go home.” I smiled and motioned for the check. “Maybe we could move the conversation to my place? I just bought a bottle of Elijah Craig and wouldn’t mind sharing.”
“Oooh I love bourbon. You’re on.” She could have followed that up with “I like to punch kittens” and I’d still have been in love. A bourbon drinking woman is a treasure gentlemen, a treasure.
After paying the bill, we came back here to my apartment and I poured us each a glass of the amber liquid of love and we sat down to talk. It didn’t take long until she unbuttoned her cardigan with a lame complaint of being warm in my well air conditioned apartment. Shortly after we began to kiss. This kiss was definitely not like the ones we’d shared before. This kiss was needy, insistent. Our lips pressed tightly and hers parted and I tasted her bourbon coated tongue as it traced my lips. She pressed harder against me and pushed me back against the couch as she straddled me. That shirt she’d unbuttoned at the restaurant earlier finally came off and indeed she wore a stunning black lace bra underneath. My breath caught in my throat as I saw more of that amazing ink. Included in her ink was a black and white portrait of Frodo from the Lord of the Rings. A golden snitch was nestled just under her left breast, and what looked like a lightsaber peeked out from around her side. My engine went into overdrive and I began to kiss this amazing woman with gusto. I paused for a moment to ask her
“Do you trust me?” She looked at me strangely at first and then nodded. “I want to worship you tonight. I don’t just want to have sex with you. I want to pray at the altar of this body.” She smiled wickedly. “Let’s get in the shower.”
Took us a while to get undressed since we couldn’t keep our hands off of one another but we managed to toss the clothes to the floor while the shower heated up. We got into the shower and I immediately reached for the body wash and began to slowly run the suds across each tattoo. I discovered a Lego minifig, a Star Trek: TNG communicator, Slimer from the Ghostbusters, and even the names of the main characters in the movie Hackers. Its amazing I didn’t lose it right there all over the shower wall. I barely kept it together and washed her from head to toe, literally. Then washed her hair for her, kissing her as I rinsed the soapy residue away. When I was done, she began to kneel and I stopped her. “Maybe later, right now this is all about you.”
After the shower, I dried her off with one of my expensive towels and led her to the bed. I massaged her then, face down she moaned as I worked my hands over her back and shoulders. I went down her arms, to her waist, and down her legs. Spending time on each area to rub out all the kinks and stress. When she rolled over I repeated the process, purposefully skipping her breasts. When I got to the tops of her legs I paused and climbed onto the bed to join her. My head dropped to her and began to kiss her areola, then licking my way around the base of the nipple and pulling it into my mouth. I rolled it around between my lips and sucked. As I did, I reached between her legs and threaded my fingers through her bush to tease her lips. Her head tilted back just as my fingers brushed across a metal loop, and then another. I played with the piercings as I sucked her nipple hungrily.
I then worked my way down, kissing across her waist and then placing my face between her legs and flicking my tongue at the piercings. Her hands gripped my hair and this time it was my turn to grunt and moan. Nothing better than a woman getting so turned on she grabs your hair. I set to work and began to run my tongue up one side, and then down the other pausing to flick the piercings again. Slowly I worked my way further in until I had the tip of my tongue licking in and out of her. I could tell by the catch in her breath and the soft sheen of sweat on her skin that she was getting close. I moved my tongue upward and pressed it flat against her pussy. In one hard but slow movement I licked up, until my tongue had reached her clit, then I flicked my tongue across it once. Her hips bucked once and she cried out. My lips closed around her clit and massaged it gently, my tongue licking her here and there. I could hardly keep my rhythm because she was squirming beneath me. Even without having said a single word up to this point, her body was telling me everything I needed to know. Her muscles tensed and her hips bucked again.
“Holy shit, mother fucker! Oh god!” It was the first time I’d heard her curse. Her body shook as the orgasm overtook her. She clenched her teeth and grunted. I crawled up beside her and held her loosely as she came down. Sighing she rolled over into my arms and looked me straight in the eyes. “If you don’t put your dick inside me right now, I’m going to beat your ass.”
Oh shit, shower just turned off. I better go finish breakfast before she gets out here. If I get some more time later I’ll tell you how the rest of the night went.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/8r88x1/when_that_coworker_isnt_the_girl_next_door_fm
Consider this a bookmark. You’re a good storyteller, my man!