The best kind of work meeting [MF]

I schedule a meeting with you in our favorite conference room.

It’s the one in the corner with a great view and very little foot traffic.

You need to have a reason to be at that end of the hallway, and most people don’t have a reason to be there. 

That’s why I pick this one. 

I had dressed up a little bit for today. We haven’t seen each other in person since the night you fucked me in the parking garage so I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be able to resist me. So I might have a chance to feel you inside me again. 

I’m wearing a v-neck purple dress and wedge sandals that I know make my bare legs look incredible. 

As I wait for you to enter, I pull down the top of my dress, just a little bit, exposing the tops of my breasts and creating more cleavage than is office appropriate, but you’re the only one who will be seeing me this way. I let a peek of lace from my bra show, too. I want you to realize that I’m putting on a show for you. 

I set up my laptop, turn on the room computer, pull up a doc to make it seem like we’re actually planning to work. Just in case someone checks in on us.

You arrive after me, carrying your Starbucks cup and seeming to not care at all about being on time to our meeting. 

I’m sitting at the conference table in a seat across from the door. You set your bag down and sit directly across from me. 

You place your laptop on the table, grab the charger out of your bag, and crawl under the table to plug in your computer.

I take this opportunity to show you that I am not wearing panties.

I’m not sure if you are even paying attention, but I reach down and slowly pull up my skirt over my knees. I spread my legs open, reach down and gently rub my clit. 

You emerge from under the table and sit back down. You take a sip from your drink, slouching a bit in your chair, looking at me with a mischievous smirk. 
You stand up, go over to the whiteboard, and set your iced coffee down next to the wall. You pick up two markers and, using one of them like a beacon, gesture for me to join you. 

I walk over to you, take a marker from your hand, uncap it, and start to sketch an extremely boring, generic outline of a flow chart. 

You move directly behind me, pretending to join me in my sketching. The feel of your body so close to mine is intoxicating. It gives me flashbacks to what it felt like to be pressed against you with your cock inside me. I close my eyes and savor the memory. 

You reach one arm over my shoulder and start marking the white board, while the other arm reaches around me, your free hand sliding over my breast. You push your entire torso into me as you free my tits from my top and cup my bare breast with your hand. You grasp my nipple, twisting it between your thumb and index finger. Tugging gently.

“This is perfect” your hot breath whispers into my ear. I can feel your beard on my neck and shoulder and I nuzzle into you. “I want to have some fun with you.” You say. 

You slide your hands down my arms, gently take my hands in yours, raise them up and press them against the whiteboard, the marker still awkwardly clutched in my left hand. “Stay right there. Don’t move a muscle.” You say. 

You trace your hands back down my arms, down my torso, my waist, my ass, my legs, as you kneel behind me. 

You lift my dress and expose my naked rear. You rub my ass with your hands, massage my cheeks, spread them, expose my puckered bud and my glistening pussy. I can feel your stare and can almost sense the smirk that I am positive is plastered on your face. 

You place a thumb on either side of my pussy lips. You gently pull them apart, opening my cunt to you. 

You dive in. 

I feel your lips, followed by your tongue, gently probing my slit. Your tongue rises and falls, tracing its tip up and down, teasing me and making me moan involuntarily.

Your arm slides around my thigh and reaches up to my clit. You rub your index finger over it. Gently pushing it into my hips and moving it up and down against my pubic bone. Your tongue pushes deeper into me. Thrusting in and out, my hips rocking into you, synching with the rhythm of your tongue.  

You pull back, and I feel your fingers enter me where your tongue had just retreated.

You start slowly.

One finger pushes into my cunt, easily sliding into my wetness. The other hand still stroking my clit. 
You curve your finger upward, and I gasp in pleasure as you gently stroke my most sensitive spot.

You slide a second finger into me, joining the first one. Then a third. All three tickling me in that place you know is guaranteed to make me cum.

You play my pussy like a fiddle, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through my body. I press my head against the whiteboard, but keep my hands in the place you had ordered me to keep them.

Then, I feel a sensation that I wasn’t expecting. Something wet and hot directly on my asshole. Moving around, probing.

I realize it’s your tongue, stiff yet soft. This knowledge immediately pushes me over the edge.

I pant uncontrollably, making noises of bliss that I hadn’t known I was capable of.

“I’m gonnnnaaaa cummmm” I scream out, as my orgasm overtakes my entire being and I give in to the pleasure, my pussy contracting around your hand as you push in deeply, filling me completely.

Once I am in the midst of the throes of ecstasy, you quickly withdraw your fingers and start rapidly brushing your whole hand against my clit.

This evokes another unexpected reaction from me. A deluge of clear liquid spews forth from my pussy, drenching your hand and dampening the floor below me. My hips buckle, as every ounce escapes me. I collapse into the wall.  

“That was inc…” I start to say, just as the door to the conference room opens. Someone pokes their head in. 

I turn away from the door at the exact moment you spill your coffee cup, the stream of melted ice and watered-down cold brew combining with the fluid that had squirted out of me. Hopefully hiding what had just transpired.

“Shit shit shit” you say, feigning exasperation at losing your coffee to the carpet. 

I tuck my tits back into my dress and turn around. “I’ll get some paper towels from the break room.” I say, as I move towards the door that is still obstructed by our intruder.

“Is this the brand refresh meeting?” they ask.

“No,” you say. “We’re having a brainstorming session. We booked this room weeks ago.” 

The intruder glances at their open laptop. “Ope, I’m on the wrong floor. Sorry about that!” they say.

“It happens.” I respond. Putting on a knowing smile. 

They leave. 

I turn back to you. We share a relieved glance. “That was fucking close.” you say, moving closer to me.

We both laugh, nervously. Recognizing how close we were to being caught.

You reach your hand up to my chin. Guide my lips to yours. We take each other in. Tongues swirling together. I can taste traces of myself on you. 

I slide my hands down your back. Around your waist, my finger tucked into your waistband. I reach your fly and start to unsnap your pants.

You grab my wrists. Stop me.

“Not yet.” You say. “You need to be patient. Good girls get rewarded.” 

“You fucker.” I say.

You know how much I hate being patient. 

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/tarkey/the_best_kind_of_work_meeting_mf