The Office Meeting Read more »

again, unedited and unread through.

She was sitting at her desk, wearing a modest pair of black spandex shorts and a tank top: her usual lounge wear. She was tapping a pen repeatedly, one of her many habits that she couldn't get out of no matter what. Between that and chewing on pen caps, it was clear to see she went through many of them. Her gaze was focused on the computer screen, a jumble of words viewable. Her right hand was on the keyboard, index finger pressing the down arrow repeatedly as her eyes scanned the page.

As he approached closer, she had failed to notice him. Her attention was taken by the now visible site of Fanfiction. His quick reading skill picked up the names 'Sirius' and 'Hermione' and he deduced that she was reading smut, yet again. She seemed to have a fetish for the young teenager to be mating with someone much older than her.

The man reaches out to rest his hands on her shoulders and he leans down, brushing his lips across the back of her neck; her hair was conveniently in a high bun, another sign of her lazing around. "Anything interesting happening to them today?" He murmurs against her skin, and grins as she shivers at his breath. Read more »

He was in the back part of the stockroom with the compressor system, the bowells of the building. The place with all the generators and motors and engines where it was deafeningly loud. But there she was, hot for him and almost completely naked. In a moment he had her pinned against the wall, one hand on each side of her, staring her down. She had her glasses on and only underwear, her beautiful muscled legs and delicious round ass offered to him and she only wanted him. He could smell her desire, and felt his body explode in heat. He subconsciously stroked his cock through his pants and he was hard as rock. He swallowed and pressed close enough to feel her body trembling. "Open up for me, dear," he whispered in her ear. She whimpered as he stroked the wet fabric between her legs. Her thighs were unsteady and she collapsed to the floor as if to escape him but he held his hand where it was, stroking her until his fingers were soaked with her desire. He melted onto the floor with her or inside her, something. He had lost consciousness of his surroundings. He was in a feral state of need. Had he been in front of a thousand people, he would have kept going. He could hear no sound and feel nothing but the tantalyzing sensation of his experienced lips taking hers, sinking his teeth into her plump lower lip. The feeling of his thumbs rubbing over the tight peaks of her nipples.This room was hot as a dream, his fingers sticky from touching the damp fabric between her legs. She moaned for him and he slipped his finger through a leghole and into the hot wetness of her body. She came on his fingers before he could stop her and he grew so big and hard it was almost painful, and then she was naked and he was inside her, moving hard and fast. He could taste the doughy, salty taste of her before having even done it. When he finally tasted her he could not get enough. He repositioned her thighs to change the angle but every move he made drew him dangerously close to coming. He swore and slowed his movements. Her powerful legs wrapped around his waist, deepening his angle. He made a strangled sound in his throat and sank his teeth into her neck, swearing. His senses were heightened. The smell of her passion overtook him and he dug his nails into her skin, moving fast and hard. It hurt to hold off like this when he was so hard and swollen. He had never felt this way before, both the pleasure and the pain. He gritted his teeth. "Hey, are you alright?" he heard her ask as she bit his earlobe. Her voice sounded far away, masked by the roaring in his ears. "I am going to come." She pulled away from him and repositioned herself on all fours, guiding him inside her from behind. "The hell are you doing…..wha—I….," Words failed him as his eyes took in the visual of her on all fours. His thighs were becoming unsteady. Read more »

We were at a party, you and I, in celebration of a long-forgotten cause for joy. There was raucous drinking. The party pushed on into the darkest hours of the night. Somebody brought out a video camera to tape the merrymaking. Your boyfriend was seated at a table with some other men, drinking. And you were there beside him, with your hand on his thigh. The camera came and exhorted you all to be witty for posterity. Jokes were made. Funny faces and obscene gestures were directed at the camera. I happened to be lying on the table. Your boyfriend picked me up, slipped his face into mine, put the cheap rubber band around the back of his head. He and I mugged for the camera together. For a moment, he was death personified as a drunk man. Or was I an inebriated reaper of souls? Read more »

It's unedited and hasn't been read through since written.

He was sitting at his desk, the video playing on the screen not holding his attention. He looks up at the clock again, for what must have been the third time in the last five minutes alone. 'She's late' was his only thought. Upon the slamming of the door downstairs he stands up from his chair and starts to make his way down the steps. He hears her humming and grins wryly at her song choice.

"How was tonight's 'date'?" He asks her as she comes into view, putting extra emphasis on the word date.

The woman looks up at him and rolls her eyes, "Fucking bitch. Remind me why I do all of this for her again?" He smiles at her again and once he reaches the bottom of the steps her wraps his arms around her waist.

He presses a kiss to her nose and whispers "Because she wants to find a man that passes your standards before she wastes her time." The woman fixes a glare on him and leans back, crossing her arms. Read more »