An Odd Duck [FM]

Sheila is what some around the office would call an odd duck, and that is by those that are being polite. She is a complete whack-job if they are being a bit more honest and a fucking crazy bitch if they are being blunt as hell, which happens to be the most popular description of Sheila behind her back. Personally, I always tried to hover with the odd duck viewpoint, but there are days where she tests that theory even with me.

First of all, she dresses a little bit strangely, mixing at least three different decade styles together that comes off feeling clashy versus synergistic. If her hair stays the same color for longer than two weeks, you would almost start to wonder if she fell on her head and became more sane. Sheila also always acts a little strangely too. Acts a little strangely how? Well, try to imagine a male elephant frantically screwing a kangaroo mouse and the impossibility of it seeming to be the most natural thing in the world. Sheila acts strangely like that. She speaks often in cryptic gibberish. She’ll start a phase of a sentence sounding like an ancient Greek philosopher, only to end the same sentence sounding like a 12-year old fresh from the lobotomy factory.

Sheila can look at a person and get this queer little smile on her lips like she just figured out their deepest, darkest secret. Then there are times that the stuff she says, you would swear she just read your mind. Needless to say, It makes people a bit standoffish to be around her for any length of time, because eventually she will smile that ‘I know your darkest secret’ smile or say that ‘thing on your mind’ and make you want to find an excuse to be anywhere else.

All that said, any time I find myself around her for very long, I get aroused. Not just that happy-buzz-in-the-cock-pondering-getting-hard sort of arousal. No, not that, more like the three-seconds-to-launch, raging hard-on type of arousal that is so intense, the longer it lasts, the more I start thinking with my cock instead of my brain. That is rarely a good thing, when one is trying to be productive at work anyway.

So obviously, because she is a bit off the reservation at all times, it unnerves me greatly that I get so aroused in Sheila’s proximity, and for the life of me, I cannot quite figure out why I always am. Even to me, at Sheila’s worst, she seems crazy as a pissed off badger trapped in a sack with an equally unhappy cactus. It is frightening to think that somehow subconsciously, I am get this fucking turned-on by such levels of cray-cray. However, if my current mind-numbing hard-on is any indication, I must be attracted to the level of crazy Sheila projects perpetually.

So here I am, trying to conceal and ignore my raging hard-on while sitting next to Sheila as we go over the latest requests from the client and I must tell you, it is a taxing experience. The disquiet from my erection notwithstanding, having to navigate through Sheila’s strange thoughts and erratic moods from the clients praises and criticisms requires the patience of a saint. Probably why she was finally placed on my team, because I am one of the few people in the company that is nice enough and patient enough to endure lengthy sessions with Sheila eccentric behavior without setting off her rages like a Roman candle during a Greek holiday.

Today she happens to be wearing a skirt with a Yorkshire terrier embroidered on it. A skirt you would see in the 50’s and yet still wouldn’t catch anyone daring to wear such a frivolous thing back then. Under it, she was wearing pink leg-warmers of all things. Above it, she was wearing a tight shirt with vertical purple lines, curving greatly where they meet her heavy breasts. A jean jacket that she must have had when she was ten, that only now covers her arms halfway, her shoulders and the most outer parts of her bulging chest. Her hair was half blue and topped with the most ridiculously gaudy bow I have ever seen. Something you would more likely see on the top of a wedding present than as a hair ornament of a human being.

“I am not going to change that, Pat”, Sheila said matter-of-factly, “it would make the whole design pointless.”
“But, the client wants it chan…”

“The client doesn’t know what they want, like most people do not know what they really want. That is why they hire us, to SHOW them what they want. I am not changing it. However, I can alter this part over here if we need to throw them a bone.”
“But, the client actually really likes that…”
“Do you like my bow? You keep looking at it.” Sheila questions coyly, matching it with a smile that makes the question’s coyness seem boisterous. She was often changing topics on a dime. Two days ago, she asked me if I would have liked being a fuller in Ancient Rome. I am still trying to decide if it was meant as a heavily veiled insult or not. It could have easily been her way of saying I was ‘wading through piss’. It is always hard to tell with Sheila.
“It’s…different. Almost like a bow you would see on a present actually,” I answer honestly and hoping it doesn’t come off as insulting. She beamed at that answer for some reason, giving me the impression she actually thought I had a clue in my head.

“Well, perhaps I am a present just waiting to be unwrapped.” She bats her eyelashes in a way that I cannot tell if she is attempting to be sexy or to mock me. The action makes my cock misbehave in my pants, regardless. My cock sends my mind thoughts of unwrapping Sheila out of her insane getup to see just what sort of naked present she had hidden underneath. I am not quite sure how much time passed when Sheila suddenly asks, “So why are you so happy, anyway?”

“Happy? I am not happy,” I reply a bit off balance, coming out of my fantasy, ‘present-opening’ trance. Sheila’s only response is a way-too-heavy glance at my crotch, pants pathetically doing a poor job hiding my obvious, raging hard-on. I actually blush a bit in embarrassment. Dare I say the smile that comes to her lips is one of a naughty and hungry variety. Just as quickly, it is gone replaced with a serious matter-of-fact expression.

“It is ok Pat. I feel ‘happy’ when I am around you too and sometimes just have to fuck my brains out after you leave my office.” She watches my expression with an insane amount of crazy glee as she continues, “and I think you would be delightful to unwrap by the way. Why don’t you come to my place after work and if you don’t want to do some mutual unwrapping with me, we can at least discuss our idiotic client more at dinner.” She scribbles her address on a post-it and hands it to me, in as much as a dismissal as an invitation.

I leave her office a bit shocked and stunned, not quite sure what just happened in there while my cock twitches madly, wondering if she is now fucking her brains out from being around me again. Does she really fuck herself in the office? Is she that brazen and bold? Or is she just trying to fuck with my head? The rest of the day is a blur with thoughts of Sheila fucking herself with various objects countless ways while being semi-unwrapped, thinking of me. Those thoughts plague me throughout the day until I suddenly find myself parked in her driveway, car idling and thinking I am crazier than her for even being in her driveway. Yet, those thoughts do not keep me from turning off the ignition, they do not keep me from walking up to her door, and they definitely do not keep me from ringing the doorbell because, honestly, my cock is doing virtually all of my thinking now.

Sheila opens the door with a genuine smile, beautiful even. She is still dressed in the same bat-shit crazy outfit as before, minus the jean jacket and legwarmers. It also seems like at some point she ditched her bra, for her breasts seem only barely contained by her striped shirt now versus the struggling containment of earlier. The curves of the purple lines more pronounced. Her nipples hard, trying to tear holes through the over-stretched fabric.

“Come on in Pat!” she invites me as she holds the door open. “Do you still have a present for me to unwrap…,” she utters as her hand glides over my crotch, finding that my cock is still painfully hard. I tremble at the touch. Tremble is not even remotely accurate. My lust wants to unwrap her in response of that simple touch. “…or do you just want to talk about our clueless client while I fix us dinner?”

She smiles a wicked little smile and suddenly she doesn’t seem so crazy or perhaps my level of crazy finally caught up to hers. Sheila’s hand rests on the bulge in my pants again. She rubs, she squeezes, she sighs a sound that makes me pull her close and kiss her. A kiss that if her mouth wasn’t already open, my tongue would have pried it open and if my mouth wasn’t open, her tongue would have figured out a way to let itself in. If lust never existed, it would have been created in that kiss. Tongues swirl with delight, lips feeling each other out. We fumble and dance across the room until Sheila trips me into the couch, landing on top of me, grinding her entire body against me. My cock alive with carnal rage. I am nearly oblivious that the silly, fucking wedding present bow is still in her blue-blonde hair.

Sheila pushes her hands against my chest until she is straddling me. In the next moment, she’s peels the shirt off in such a fluid motion, it seems her breasts are suddenly freed by a magic trick. They sway as she dry humps my cock. They hypnotize me as they knock together until my hands find them, stop them, and fondle them mercilessly. Sheila is lost in it, yet her eyes never leave mine. She fucks me with that stare and I know she is thinking of every wicked thought she has ever had of us together, yet I can only imagine what those thoughts are. I know it with as much certainty as having a hard-on whenever I am near her.

She finally pulls my hands away only for her to flow down off my lap like a flesh-filled waterfall, coalescing in a kneeling position on the floor as her hands simultaneously teases my cock and unwraps it from my pants, pulling the jeans down and setting my cock free in a bounce that actually makes her giggle. It is the sexiest sound I have ever heard.

Instead of taking me into her mouth just though, Sheila presses her face against my cock, grinding against it as she purrs in a gutterence of sexual pleasure. Only when she sees all the ways I am fucking her with my eyes, does she pop me into her mouth. She sucks, licks the head, and moans as she lets it pop back out.

“So…” she purrs seductively, “are you someone that takes what he wants or do you wait until the thing that you desire begs to be taken?”

She looks up into my eyes truly wanting to know the answer, hungry for it, like it is the only thing that matters. When I do not answer right away, she smiles, she stands, and she lifts her skirt so I can see her naked blonde bush and glistening cunt. While still holding up her skirt, Sheila crawls back into my lap and straddles me again, cunt kissing my shaft with its hot wetness. Cunt grinding my cock in its want. She lets the skirt drop, hiding how her cunt is kissing me. Her hands slip under the skirt and find my rod, toys with it, teases it, strokes it, and finally presses the head of it against her hidden, hot, wet lips. She slides down the length of me with a grunt. Presses her body against me, and whispers into my ear, “So then, make me beg…”

I let my hands wander and explore her. I get some sighs, a few moans, and deep clenching of her cunt around me, but no begging…

I let my mouth feast on the parts of her it can reach. Her face, her lips, her neck, shoulders breasts…sighs, moans, and a slight grind, but still no begging…

She gets my shirt open as I bring my lips back to her ears, I suck, nibble, and lick before I whisper, “So, just how do you fuck yourself after spending some time with me?” She trembles at the end of the question. My arms slide behind her, pulling her closer, her breasts embracing my now naked chest. Fingers trace random patterns lightly up her back. Fingers coming to where her neck ends and hair begins. The slight tremble of her body is still her only response.

“No response? I guess you will just have to show me the next time…”

“Fuck!”, she says wearing a wild-eyed look, lost in some desirable thought. “Fuck me!”

My hands rest upon her shoulders as she starts to grind against me. The pleasure is unbearable but I try to hold her in place. “No…”
“Fuck me now, dammit!”
I held her tighter, “You wanted to know if I am one that waits until you beg…”
She squirms against me, the slight movements are magical, my will is melting away with the setting sunlight still spilling into the room. “I need you to fuck me now, please!!!”

“Need?”

“Fuck yes! Need!”

“Fuck you how?”, even though in a few more moments, I know I am not going to be able to play this game any longer.

“Anyway you want to…Just fuck me, I cannot stand…”

“Even in the ass?”, I joke. Sheila squirms violently in my embrace, the sensation feels like she is fucking my entire body. I start to fuck into her, she has begged enough…

“Especially my ass…”

We start fucking like the horny, crazy beasts we are. Words melt into moans and sighs and grunts. As our fucking reaches that uncontrollable state when the body pulls away from the mind, I pull her down onto her couch and fuck her with an urgency I have never had before. Some blurring thought wanting to see if I could fuck her brains out better than she could do it herself.
I do not know if her screams when she starts to cum answers my question, but at this point it doesn’t really matter. Because my cum explodes from my cock in a way that erases all thoughts entirely save two. Never wanting the feeling to end and that Sheila looks radiant cumming while wearing that silly bow in her hair, the sunset making it almost look like a halo of an angel.

~~~

No one notices that I am wearing the same clothes from yesterday or they simply do not care. I try to hold off going to Sheila’s office for as long as I can, which happened to be about 40 minutes after she gets to the office. My cock is raging even worse than before because now it knows her touch, it knows her. My arousal around her is now definitely an understandable thing. About five minutes into continuing the argument about our client from the day before, Sheila peels the green yoga pants halfway down her legs and begins to attack her clit with her fingers, eyes fondling the erect cock in my pants.

“Maybe I can meet you halfway on this,” she whispers, not daring to speak any louder. She pulls a dildo of a similar size and shape to my cock from her purse and jams it into her cunt, a choked whimper is the only sound she makes. I am beyond turned on watching her fuck herself, listening to her struggle not to make much noise while attacking her body in a frantic way.

I grab her wrist to stop her. She looked into my eyes. I lock her stare as I take the dildo from her fingers and continue to fuck her with it.

“Please, slower. Too…fast and…I won’t stay…quiet.” She was desperate, but wanton as well. I want her to scream, but I know the folly of that so I slow down just a bit trying to find the safest edge. Her hands are fumbling to find my cock. When she frees me, I don’t even let her play, I pull the dildo from her dripping cunt, lift her onto her desk, then slide my cock inside of her.

I fuck her while she clings to me, her ankles still entangled by her stretch pants, she bites into my shoulder to muffle the sounds that escape her. She only frees my shoulder to command me to cum inside her and like waiting for the order my body obeys.

Later in the day, we find ourselves working late. She finds herself into my office. We find ourselves much more undressed than earlier. I then find myself inside of her again. Neither one of us were nearly as quiet as earlier in her office. Neither one of us cared.

~~~

We were addicted to each other. If we can not touch, we share moment of eye contact or pass some innuendo across a screen in a chat window, something that keeps us connected in that aroused way all day long.

That following weekend, she begged me to fuck her in the ass. I obliged. It was my first time fucking an ass. It was strange and surreal and in the end I would cum like there would not be a tomorrow. More thrilling than my orgasm was definitely hers. How her pussy lips felt with my hand just cupping her cunt.

We spent that weekend talking, laughing, dining, finding out all that we did have much in common, and having crazy sex most of all. By the end of it, I was more addicted to her than ever, and she did not seem as crazy anymore.

By the next week, the majority of the office knew something was going on between us. I suddenly heard utterances of me being bat-shit crazy behind my back. I honestly did not care all that much. By the week after that, no one dared to talk about how crazy Sheila was around me and I was fine with that as well.

~~~

“So Sheila, can I ask you a question?” I mutter while we both lie on her bed spent.

“Only if I can ask one in return?”

I nod, suddenly thinking I may regret this. “What is it about your clothes that you like so much. Your outfits are always…”
She laughs, the sweet laugh that I only hear from her when we are alone, not the laugh I thought was her normal laugh that she does in the office. “…so unorthodox. Should I dress more like Jenny or Laura perhaps? They dress to attract and tease and torture. They end up leaving little to the imagination, but they need your stares and pointless advances. Perhaps I dress to attract just enough attention to then repel the unworthy away? Perhaps I am comfortable in my skin and do not need to be gawked at to feel beautiful? Perhaps it does not really matter if the clothes just come off.” At that, she gives me the sweetest smile and begins to kiss me while her hand slowly toys with my cock to bring it back to life. She breaks of the kiss, “Perhaps, I am just trying to find the right combination of clothing that will make you want to unwrap me again.” She climbs on top of me and reminds me why having her unwrapped is such a wonderful thing.

~~~

“You still owe me an answer to a question?” Sheila said as she licks some of my cum from her chin and fingers. My cock already missing her lips and fingers around me.

“You haven’t asked me a question yet.”
“I would have thought it would be obvious.” I start to think about what obvious thing she wants to ask me but I do not have a clue, with Sheila, it could be virtually anything. “Geez Pat! You really do not know? I am curious why you broke things off with Jenny?” Sheila’s look is perhaps the most serious I have ever seen her. That was the last question I would have ever thought she would ask me.

“Actually, Jenny broke things off with me.”
“Really? Huh! I just assumed it was the other way around. Well, that just doesn’t help at all! Why did she break up with you? It couldn’t be because of how you fuck…” Sheila was looking thoughtful, like trying to figure out a puzzle. She did not see me smile at her compliment.

“I guess because we just were not that compatible. We never really clicked, even in bed. We probably should have ended much sooner than we did.”

Sheila laughs, a bit too hard for my liking. “Her loss is my gain. Just think of all of the guys that chase that skirt at the office. All of those guys that envied you! Yet, you would rather be fucking me, the crazy girl that dresses oddly. I think this is my new, most favorite secret.”
I start laughing along with her, seeing the joke. Then I slid my hand up her thigh and let my fingers begin to play with her until she was not laughing anymore. Until she was making sounds that would make priests blush and nuns to want to leave their sisterhood.

~~~

I woke already aroused and found myself handcuffed to Sheila’s bed with her smiling wickedly down at me, specifically at my quivering erection. I could not help but panic, I had a deep fear of being restrained in anyway. Her smile melts away replaced by a look of slight concern.

“What is wrong?”

“Please take off the cuffs.”

“Why?”

“Just take them off!”, my voice a mix of anxiety and anger.

“Don’t you trust me?”, she says coyly, trying to lighten the moment.

“It has nothing to do with trust. I just…do not like being restrained. I had some bad experiences.”
“Jenny was into bondage? That is hard to believe.”
“Not sexual experiences. Just life ones. Please, just take them off.”

“No”, she says firmly, “And do not say another word about it or I’ll gag you as well.” I am a mix of broken emotions, all of them negative but I do not voice anything, trusting her word. Suddenly, these last few months with Sheila seem like a waste. Pleasure shattered, replaced with pains from my past. “You obviously have negative issues about being…restrained, so I am going to give you a few reasons to look forward to it. So you better say things I want to hear or I will keep you mostly quiet.” Her smile was dangerous. Her stare more so.

With that, Sheila lightly slides her fingertips up and down my shaft watching me, gauging me. She does not say a word, just slides her fingertips up and down. My anxiety makes a little room for the torturous pleasure. My cock twitches harder, she still just softly touches. I try to adjust my contact to her, but she still keeps the touch light and gentle. I moan because it is literally the only release I can achieve.

My cock begins to ooze its precum and still Sheila tortures me with the light touches, but now it feels like she is touching me all over even though she is just touching my engorged cock.

“Please,” I choke out, somewhat surprised I can still form words. She looks up at me, naked, beautiful, and with that quizzical look I have grown to love from her. For some reason, the fact that she hasn’t changed the color of her hair for three weeks pops into my head during the moment.

“What? Do you want me to stop? Do you want me to set you free? Is this not better than the bad times? Being forced to relax and just…enjoy?” Her thumb suddenly circles the head of my cock, massaging the cum back into it. I lose my fucking mind.

“Did you like that? Is this is how you are going to answer me?” She circles again, and again, and again. Sheila suddenly climbs above me, her hand never leaves my cock and she gyrates her cunt about a foot above my aching, twitching mess of a cock. She has never been more beautiful.

She starts to kiss me and starts to jerk me off. Still very gently, in a way that prods me closer to the edge but doesn’t let me truly near it. I feel her breasts lightly dancing on my chest as she sways above me. I am in a perfect state of madness. I need the release and yet I never want these sensations to end.

“Once I decide to fuck you, I am going to ride you like I never have. Do you want me to fuck you yet?”

I desperately wanted almost nothing else, “No…”

She smiles. She tortures my cock some more. It seems to never end. I love it, I hate not being able to reach that point of no return, I definitely love the type of crazy Sheila is, even though I do not even think of her as odd or crazy any longer.
“Do you want to know a secret, Pat?” she whispers seductively into my ear, “I cannot wait for the day I wake up and you have me chained to my bed, doing whatever you damn well please to me.” My mind cums at the thought. Just as quickly she impales herself upon me and rides me in a frenzy. I’m yelling, she’s screaming, we are both cumming. It is a beautiful mess. I have no idea what I am even saying to her anymore.

She finally collapses on me, fumbling to unbind my wrists. Then she literally melts into my embrace.

“I love you too, more than anything in the whole wide world. Even more than my collection of hair bows” She whispers into my ear, gives me the warmest, most honest smile then buries her face into my neck.

~~~

I am waiting nervously for Sheila to finish getting ready so we can go to the damnable company party that neither of us really want to go to. Even though the entire office is aware that Sheila and I are together, this will be the first public function with coworkers that we will have attended as such. I am mentally bracing myself to all of the stares, whispers, and laughter. I can only imagine the insane getup she has planned because unlike me, she feasts on the stares, the whispers, and the laughter.

What I see when she finally is ready was the last thing I thought I would see. I am stunned. She is stunning, in an almost-too-normal way. She is wearing a short, black, neck-strap dress that fits her like a second skin. If she showed any more cleavage, I fear her breasts would swallow up the world three times over. Her hair is done up in a pool of golden curls. The red streak she currently has going through it is a highlight rather than a distraction.Her platform heels could second as a pair of deadly weapons. Her face is lightly highlighted with makeup, popping out her beauty instead of masking it like she usually does. She almost looks like a stranger, even to me.

“You like?” erotic mischief painted across her beautiful face.

“It is very…un-you.”

“Is a girl not allowed to have many facets? Would you prefer me to just dress in this thing every day?”

“I usually prefer you dressed in virtually nothing at all, but no, you are definitely not meant to be trapped in the same outfit everyday.”

“Should I go naked then? I will, you know”, she gives me her dangerous ‘fuck me now look’, reaches down and begins to peel her dress upward.

“Honestly Sheila, I actually think you will be more shocking going in that dress than in the nude.”

She gives me an enduring smile, an indicator that I said something extra special. She then smooths her dress back down and gives me her hand, dragging me out the door.

At the party, we get plenty of shocked stares, we hear a plethora of whispers filled with disbelief. I would love to say all of Sheila’s smiles were for me, but that would be a lie. We get to our assigned table and share small talk and drinks with the people there, neither of us knowing any of them, since they are from a remote office. That was probably orchestrated on purpose.

On the dance floor, Sheila presses her belly against my cock, her breasts smothered into me, her hands around my neck, pulling my head down so she can whisper into my ear.

“Pat, want to know a secret?”

“From you, always. What?”

“I really need my brains fucked out…right fuckin’ now.”

“So should we say our goodbyes then?” I laugh, knowing there are only a few we would actually say sincere goodbyes to us nowadays.

“No, I need it…I need you in me…right now!”

“Here?”

“If you don’t get me somewhere a bit more private in the next 3 minutes, then yes! Right here on the dance floor!”

I take her hand and drag her off the dance floor a bit too quickly, looking for a place where we could perform the brain-fucking operation she was desiring. We settle on a room on the upper level that we had to maze to get to. I believe the room was solely designed to be used as a secluded place to go to when people needed to screw and just could not wait to do so until they left for home.

As soon as the door closes, Sheila jumps me…

I, in turn, slam her against the wall, pinning her there…

She, in turn, locks her legs around me like a vise, resting the heels of her lethal shoes into the small of my back…

I, in turn, hike up the black dress the rest of the way that the initial momentum slamming into the wall did not do…

She shoves her tongue so deeply into my mouth, I nearly gag from the sensual attack…

I fumble with my pants while bracing her against the wall, trying to fight off her tongue in my mouth and letting her win…

She digs her nails, her talons into my hair…

I free my cock, I rip her flimsy panties from her body, I fumble to enter her…

She breaks the kiss to whisper-growl into my ear, “Fuck me…”

I shove two fingers into her instead, for reasons only extreme horniness can explain…

She gasps then grumbles in despair, “No, Fuck me with your cock!”

I whisper back as I feast on her ear, “Beg me for it.” Knowing full well if she counts to 5 without saying a word I will have my cock shoved so deep into her anyways that we will both lose whatever sanity either of us have left.

She whimpers, her cunt strangle my fingers so my thumb counters the attack by rolling her clit even more, and she answers, “please don’t tease me…I need…need you fucking me…please…”

It was good enough, I pull my drenched fingers from her, slide them all over my cock, the slick heat making me shake in anticipation of entering her. Sheila’s cunt welcomes my cock openly and eagerly, nearly sucking me in more than me slamming home into her seemed to do.

And I fuck her. It is a fast frenzy of sexual connection. I do not believe I have ever felt more connected with her. Sanity is not slipping away, it is just fucking gone. Awareness of where we are is slipping away though. Everything else is slipping away, until there is just Sheila, me, and where our bodies are fusing together. Wanting to get infinitely closer. Wanting to shatter apart.

Fucking…fucking…fucking…

I grunt my explosion into her without verbal warning…

Fucking…cumming…fucking…cumming…

She begs me faster, harder, deeper…

Fucking…fucking..cumming…fucking…

She screams into the abyss surrounding us…

FUCKING…FUCKING…FUCKING…

Sheila’s cunt doesn’t know if it should pull me in or push me out, so it does both at once before I feel her warmth amplify around me, dangerously soft.

Fuck…fuck…fuck!!!

Our bodies are running on instinct, all conscious control is gone, fucking through the orgasms, fucking through the insanity of our fractured minds.

We find ourselves on the floor, not sure how we got there, the aftermath echoes of our sex ripping through our souls, somehow I am still inside her.

“Please…take me home now, Pat. I don’t want to be here anymore. I need us to be there, in our place. In our space.”

I don’t have the heart to respond that I am already home because I am with her and simply reply, “Ok.”

We pick up the fracture parts of our sanity, get us somewhat presentable, and stumble out of the room. We leave the building through the back, the last thing either of us want is to see our coworkers and ruin the moment. We forgot all about the discarded panties until we got to the car, or at least I did. She hikes her dress back up and starts to play with herself using both hands, occasionally bringing our mixed cum to her hungry, and sweet little mouth. Seeing it out of the corner of my eye has me pushing on the gas harder than normal and has me praying to God that we do not get pulled over by a traffic cop still shy of his monthly quota.

We stumble into the house, I do not even recalling leaving the car. We do not even make it to the bedroom. We make love in a passionate, tender frenzy way on the floor by the now closed door and drift into sleep when we have nothing left to give.

~~~

Sheila wakes to being handcuffed to her bed, which is honestly their bed now. She sees Pat sitting naked next to her, his wonderful cock jutting from his body and his eyes glazed in a lust that would make him blush any other time. Her body instantly becomes a flutter and drowns in sudden sharp arousal. Sheila keeps her face plain but smiles wickedly from within, for Pat finally sees her for the swan she truly is, being bound notwithstanding. For all swans are odd ducks at first glance, and even second glance or third. She wants to be taken AND she wants to be made to beg to be taken, that has always been her deepest secret. Yet, even more so now, she wants to truly see what sort of crazy lust Pat has hidden in that otherwise controlled persona. She has had hints and glimpses, but now her cunt was dripping in sinful anticipation. Wanting her was always Pat’s secret, even though it took him way too long to give in to it. Wanting to show her just how lustfully crazy he could be was his deeper, darker secret. It seemed to take longer than she was anticipating to get it out of him. She lets a smile escape her lips as he finally touches her. The sublime craziness dressed in lust begins…and ends any other rational thought she was holding in her clever little head.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/dj7h0y/an_odd_duck_fm