The next week passed by with excruciating slowness.
After we had finished up on Friday, and after we discovered that he had accidentally ripped my dress, we decided that this couldn’t be something that interrupted our daily life in the office. My job was too important to me to become someone that got caught screwing around during work hours, even if the idea excited me beyond reason.
When we came back to work on Monday, things seemed normal. We discussed our weekends and the upcoming week, made jokes as we ate lunch with coworkers, and generally seemed to ignore each other while we were actually working.
Of course, I wasn’t actually ignoring him. I was acutely aware of what he was doing: when he went to the copier, when he was clearly browsing social media sites instead of working, and when I felt him looking over at me. This little game was interesting. If I caught him looking at me, he would purposefully take his time moving his eyes down my body; by the time he would make it back up to my face, I could feel myself blushing.
Monday was filled with paranoia. No one knew what we did together, but every time someone went into the supply cupboard, I felt like they were going to come racing out with their finger pointed in my direction. They’d be screaming, “This room has been DEFILED! Burn her at the stake for exposing our precious office supplies to her disgusting predilections!”
Speaking of the closet, I couldn’t go in there without feeling my heart rate go up. It was like a small museum to my hottest fantasy come true. Even looking at my stapler got me going a little bit. Despite my near-constant state of being turned on, I had resolved that I wouldn’t get myself off until I fooled around with him again. I wanted to tease myself. I liked the idea of letting him reward me.
By Friday morning, I was ready to grab him by his hair and drag him back into the supply closet, cave-man style, propriety be damned. As we all filed in to the conference room for another thrilling meeting, the feeling was amplified when he took his seat next to me again. We smiled at each other by way of greeting as everyone else was getting settled in. As the lights dimmed down, I crossed my arms over my chest and strapped myself in for a long hour and a half.
About twenty minutes in, I felt his shoe bump up against mine. I kept my eyes on Jack’s presentation, ignoring the thought that it had been done on purpose. A few minutes later, I felt his clothed calf against my bare one. I sat up a bit straighter, glancing down at our legs under the table briefly. His legs were much longer than mine – I felt a little bit dwarfed by them, actually. Here he was, man-spreading away, meanwhile I could barely touch the floor with my feet.
Our calves stayed that way for a bit, neither of us moving them away. I then felt his fingertips brush up against the side of my thigh. I glanced at him sideways, trying to catch his eye. He was resting his chin on his fist, watching the presentation, and nodding along to whatever Jack had just said. He looked appropriately engaged to any onlookers as he began running his fingertips over my knee, scratching gently. I let out a breath and he smirked.
I looked away from him and turned my attention back to the front of the room, barely registering anything that was being said. I began to try to shift my leg away from his hand, but I felt him grip my leg in order to keep it where it was.
I realize that he wasn’t reaching for anywhere crazy – just the places on my thigh that he could touch without being obvious about it – but the small touches were driving me crazy. It felt like there was a trail of fire following his fingers, ratcheting up my need for him until I wanted to push him onto the table and fuck him in front of everyone in the room.
Then, suddenly, his fingers were gone. I missed them immediately, and I looked over at him. He was still watching the presentation, but his hand had moved to cover his mouth. From the way his shoulders were gently shaking, I could tell he was trying to hold back his laughter. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing to me, and he was enjoying every second.
I stewed in my faux-indignation until the meeting was over. My clit was throbbing between my legs, and I wanted to grab his hand and let him feel what he had done to me. As people started filing out, I stood to go with them when he put his hand on my arm.
“Would you want to hang out tonight?” he said it quietly, smiling up at me.
“Sure,” I said. “What would you want to do?”
He grinned, “We could, uh… Watch Netflix and chill.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. He tightened his grip slightly as I began to move away. “No, really, we can just hang out at my place.” We came up with a plan briefly, and then went about doing our work.
By the end of the day, I was so excited that I nearly ran out of the door at 4:30. By the time I got home, I had about an hour to get myself ready. I showered and primped, and I took the rest of the time to figure out what I was going to be wearing. For all of the fantasizing that I had done about him, I never spent the time to think about what I would wear when I went to go fuck him. It felt like a bit much to break out a pair of stilettos and thigh-highs for a night of hanging out on his couch. I ultimately decided on a black skirt that wasn’t too short with a tight, white shirt tucked into it. Casual, but it left little to the imagination.
The car ride over to his apartment felt like it took ages, and I felt nervous. As I waited for him to answer the door, I played with my hair anxiously. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait very long between my knocking and him pulling the door wide open.
He stepped back with a flourish, bowing as he invited me in. “Welcome to my humble abode. I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered us a pizza.”
I didn’t mind – I was starving. Thankfully, he ordered a plain cheese pizza, which was a relief to me. I was picky about my pizza, and I was really picky about toppings. We sat on his couch as we ate it, talking about perfectly safe topics. As we were cleaning up, I found small ways to brush up against him: my hand touching his as I took away our plates or my ass brushing against the tops of his thighs as I moved past him in the kitchen. Nothing about what I was doing was subtle or smooth, but I liked feeling him against me, even if it was brief. His breaking point was when I dropped a fork and bent over far enough that my skirt’s hem fell just under my ass.
I felt his finger brush where the hemline hit my skin, and he began to push it up with his fingertip. “I know what you’re doing.”
I turned slightly to smile up at him as I grabbed the fork, straightening as I asked, “Is it working?”
He moved his hand up, slapping my ass playfully. “Yes. Now go back into the other room while I finish cleaning this up.”
I nearly skipped back to his couch, looking around at his apartment as I waited for him to come back. It was simply decorated and neat. His bookshelf had tons of books, and there was a video game console next to the TV. I was looking at the cables and cable ties thoughtfully as I heard him come back into the room.
He sat down next to me and turned his body towards me, looking me up and down as he searched for something. I looked back at him, taking note of the clothing that was preventing me from touching his naked skin. I was so focused that I almost jumped when he said, “About last week… Did you mind what we did? Do you have any regrets?”
His eyes were much more intense now than they were earlier. I shook my head, “No, I enjoyed it. Do you have any regrets?”
“No… In fact, I think we should try this out. I don’t mean that I want anything serious, but I do want to –“
He never got the chance to finish his statement because I launched myself into his lap. I ran my fingers into his hair, and I kissed him hard. He moved his hands to my waist, using them to steady me and hold me in place. As we kissed, I moved my legs and crossed my ankles behind him. I pressed myself against him as I bit his lip.
I moved my lips down to his throat, kissing, nibbling, and sucking on it, as his hands moved over my body. I let out small, breathy sounds as he moved his hands over my legs and underneath my skirt. I smirked as his fingers went higher. I knew he was searching for a panty line, and he wasn’t going to find one.
He pulled back slightly, looking at me. “Are you not wearing underwear?”
I smiled down at him, pulling my skirt up so he could see my bare pussy.
He groaned and roughly reached into the top of my skirt, pulling my shirt up and over my head. He smiled as he ran his fingers over the cups of my bra, feeling the soft lace. “You dirty girl. What am I going to do with you?”
“I can think of a few things…”
He kissed me again, reaching into the cup of my bra to play with my nipples. I adjusted myself so that I was straddling him on my knees again, my ass grinding into his lap in an effort to get closer to him. I could feel his hard cock underneath his jeans, and I began undoing his belt and button.
He reached behind me to undo my bra’s clasp, pulling it off of me. As he pulled the straps down my arms, he used them to interrupt what my hands were doing to his pants. He grabbed my wrists and held them behind my back. I gasped at the sudden roughness, delighting in it. “I didn’t say you could touch me yet.”
The way he held me arched my back forward, pushing my tits up towards him. He looked at them, seemingly satisfied with this new development in our positioning. He shifted both wrists into one hand, moving the other around to pinch my sensitive nipples. I moaned and squirmed on his lap, struggling slightly against his grip on my wrists.
That’s when he did it: he moved his head forward and sucked a nipple into his mouth. My brain might as well have short-circuited. The feeling of him sucking on me drove me wild. My nipples had always been incredibly sensitive, and I had – more than once – come from them being stimulated. I started begging him – I’m not sure what for, but he let go of my wrists to let his hand roam over my body. He pinched, bit, caressed, and sucked on my nipples until I was panting. I gripped his hair hard, pulling him closer to me.
He moved his hand back under my skirt, running his finger along the slit of my pussy. He whispered to me as he toyed with me. He told me how I was a dirty little slut, primly sitting on his couch as we ate, knowing full well that I didn’t have on any panties. How he should punish me for letting him sit there and eat pizza instead of me. I gripped his shoulders as I tried to keep my hips still. He slid his finger between the slit and groaned as he felt how wet I was.
“Fuck. Are you always this wet and ready?”
I nodded, beyond the point of forming coherent thoughts. His finger circled my clit as he kept teasing my nipples. I rolled my hips against his finger desperately, moaning loudly. He rubbed harder as I got closer – listening to me moan as I rocked against his hand. I was so close – my entire body was going tense and I was singularly focused on using his hand to get off. Right as I hovered on the precipice, he moved his hand and lips away from my body. I panted and kept moving my hips in his lap, trying desperately to find any friction to get myself off with.
Then, he laughed. He fucking laughed! If I weren’t so worked up, I might have laughed along with him, but as it stood, I was desperate and feeling just a little bit bratty. I pushed my hair away from my face and made a small whimpering sound. He moved his hands to my hips, rubbing them gently as my body calmed down slightly. Once my lost orgasm was sufficiently calmed, he rolled me off of his lap and onto the couch, standing to tug off his pants and shirt. I looked up at him from my position on my back: he stood over me, looking down at me as he stroked himself slowly. “Take off that skirt.”
I jumped into action, pulling my skirt off quickly as I watched him pleasure himself. I saw a drop of pre-cum on the tip of his cock, and before thinking about it, I leaned forward to lick it off. I heard him breathe through his nose and mumble a quiet “fuck” as he let me lick his cock up and down greedily.
With what seemed like a bit of effort, he moved away from me and sat back down on the couch. He held his dick in his hand, stroking it again as I licked my lips. I moved towards him, sitting on his lap, facing away from him. I felt him move one hand down my back, slapping my ass as I wiggled it against him playfully.
I moved his hand away from his cock as I spread my legs over his. I took his shaft into my hand, stroking him slowly as I rubbed the tip against the slit of my pussy. I pressed my hips down, enveloping the head of his cock with my pussy’s lips, and I heard him moan behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw him staring down at our hips, his eyes dark and intense. I rubbed myself against him, using the tip of his cock to stimulate my clit. I pushed down a bit, taking the head inside of me. I bounced on it, the shallow thrusts frustrating us both. Driving myself crazy like this was worth it: this was payback for teasing me earlier. He slapped my ass again and growled, “Get on with it. Fuck this cock.”
I raised my eyebrow and slid down on him slowly, moaning as he filled me. I rode him slowly, taking my time on top of him. I rolled my hips up, fucking him at a frustratingly slow pace. He gripped my hips, trying to get me to move faster. I suppressed a giggle as I teased him.
He pushed his legs wider, spreading mine with them, and pulled me back on top of him. With one arm wrapped around my waist, he moved his fingers to my clit. He used his newly found leverage to thrust up into me as he rubbed me. “Do you like the idea of teasing me? Do you think I’m going to beg for you to fuck me?”
“No – no. I just –“ He kept thrusting up into me, a punishing, quick pace as he fucked me. I tilted my head back and moaned loudly. He reached his hand up to play with my nipple, and the stimulation was overwhelming. I was already primed from earlier, and teasing him had worked me up even more. His hands on me, while he slammed his cock inside of me, was sending me over the edge. My hips rolled against him, delightful friction sending electric shocks across my abdomen. “I’m going to come. Please, let me come. Please.”
He grunted and kept fucking me, my thrusts meeting his. I scratched at his arms, demanding that he not stop. I came around him, moaning loudly in his quiet apartment. He fucked me through my orgasm, my pussy pulsing and squeezing around his cock. I moved his hand from my overly stimulated clit to my mouth as I came down from my orgasm, sucking on his fingers and tasting myself.
His thrusting slowed. He pushed me forward a bit, the angle allowing him to watch as we fucked. I rested my hands on his knees as I rode him. After a moment, he moved me off of him and said, “Get onto your knees.”
My breath hitched as I kneeled in front of him, my hands rubbing up and down his thighs as I looked at him expectantly.
“Ask me.”
I licked my lips slowly. “May I please suck you off?”
He nodded, weaving his hand into my hair, and he groaned when I began to lick his cock. He thrust up into my mouth and I swallowed him, taking him deep into my throat. I heard his little sounds and was encouraged by them as I blew him. I sucked on him earnestly, using every trick I had to get him off.
After a few moments, he said, “You’re going to swallow this cum like a good little slut.”
As he came into my mouth, I swallowed it all greedily, knowing that he was watching me intently. I looked up at him as I moved my head up one last time, letting his cock fall out of my mouth with a satisfying ‘pop’. He offered me his hand, helping me up. He stood with me, pulling me against him and kissing me.
While we got dressed, we discussed when we would do this again, and if I wanted to stay the night. Ultimately, I decided against staying the night, it felt like it was too much, too soon; but I was, once again, excited for the next weekend to come.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/eobkrg/my_office_crush_part_3_long_mf
My only comment is this series has been a fantastic read! Thank you for the stories so far:)
Wow
Oh man. More, please! How sinfully delicious a read for the hungry mind.
That depends