You brought work home, again, and sitting at your desk you’re just about to call it a day when a small sound makes you look up. She’s standing in your office doorway, one hand on her hip, the other resting on the doorjamb, looking at you with a soft smile. You know that look.
A pang of guilt flashes. You’ve been busy, haven’t given her the attention she’s used to receiving from you; but still, work is work. Without saying a word, you quickly look back to the papers on your desk. She chuckles. The soft rustle of silk tells you she’s moved and you look up again.
She’s walked into your office, standing with both hands resting on the back of your reading chair, eying you from behind the fall of her hair. She smiles at you, "You’ve been working too hard, babe. You need a break."
You put the papers down, "Darling, I don’t have time for this..." you start to say, but the words don’t quite make it out of your mouth. She’s crossing to your desk and you’re entranced, the swirl of the skirt, her feet in those high-heeled little round-toed pumps you like, and, oh, the stockings. There’s a garter belt lurking under that full skirt, and the thought of that is distracting enough, never mind her standing here in front of you, looking like this.
She comes around the desk and sits on the edge, next to you, close enough that the gentle scent of her lotion reaches you. And you finally take in the whole picture. Hair soft, shiny, bouncing in face-framing waves, the silk dress that puts her curves on dangerous display, the heels, the stockings, those glossy lips. She came into your office with seduction on her mind. Perched on the edge of your desk, she smiles again, "Besides, I need your help with something."
You push your chair away from the desk and lean back to look at her; work can wait, but you don’t want to tell her that just yet. "What," you ask, while attempting to keep a stern note in your voice, "did you need help with?"
With a sly smile, she slides off the desk and sits sideways on your lap, her arms going around your neck, her lips brush your ear as she whispers, "I’ve been a very naughty girl. You’ve been so busy..."
One hand on her thigh, the other around her back, the silken material is smooth, soft against your palms. Her breath on your neck is intoxicating. You can feel the straps of her garter belt under the skirt, and your hand brushes up her back, no bra. You push her back just a bit to look at her face, "Naughty, hm? How so?" Her nipples are outlined in the delicate fabric; you watch the rise and fall of her breasts and wait. She leans back into you, breasts pressing against your chest, her tongue flicks your ear, "You’ve been so busy, darling, I’ve had to take care of myself..." Her fingers are twirling the hair at the nape of your neck; her tongue traces around the edge of your ear.
You smile as you begin to understand the game she’s playing. Yes, work can wait.
You reach up to grasp her hands, taking them from around your neck and gently pulling them behind her back. She sits up, her back arched, breasts pushing out, and you see her smile as she tosses her hair out of her face. Holding her wrists with one hand, you let your other roam her body, over her legs, up her waist, then cupping each breast before gently squeezing first one nipple, then the other. Your eyes never leave her face and you enjoy her reactions; the purse of her lips, the hiss of breath between her teeth, the soft moan.
Abruptly, you stop, and release her wrists. You almost laugh as she pouts and lets out a tiny gasp of disappointment. "Stand up." Trying to keep your voice firm is a challenge.
Obediently, she does as told, standing next to your chair, hands laced lightly behind her back, her breathing already a bit rough. She’s aroused, and you know it.
You tip your chair back, and fix her with what you hope is a stern look. "You have been a bad girl, haven’t you?" The smile that hits her eyes, even as her lips struggle to pout gives her away; yes, she wanted this. "Give me your hands." The command is short, almost harsh, but she complies, her hands reaching for yours.
You take her wrists, gently pulling her to stand with her thighs touching the side of yours. You run one hand up her leg, under her skirt, then dip a finger inside the top edge of her stocking. Her body trembles and shivers in response. Then quickly, roughly, you pull her down over your lap. Her head and arms on your left, her legs on your right. Her silk covered ass faces up, ready and waiting. The swiftness of it has surprised her, and she lets out a little "Oh!" and puts up a token struggle. You chuckle, your left hand catches her right wrist and pulls it behind her back, holding her down.
Your right hand strokes her back, smoothing the fabric, gliding over her ass, playing with the silk. You trace the line of stocking up the back of her leg till it disappears under her skirt, then push your hand farther to touch bare skin above the stocking edge. She wriggles in your lap, thrusting her ass higher. Your right hand quickly pulls from under her skirt to slap her ass cheek, once, lightly. "Hold still," you hiss, laughing a bit. She settles down and your right hand continues its exploration. Running over the rounded curves of her ass, sliding the silk against her skin, teasing. You wait until you feel her body fully relax, then again slap her ass lightly. She jumps just a bit, a tiny gasp of pleasure. You go back to the gentle stroking of her ass, running your hand occasionally up her back, or down her legs. Each time, you wait for her to relax again, before delivering a light smack on her ass cheek, first the right, then the left. Each time your hand connects, you are rewarded with her body twitching in response, her hissing intake of breath.
"How naughty were you?" you ask while gently massaging her ass through the silk skirt, "How many times?" She giggles, wiggling her body and pushing her ass up into your caressing hand, "I don’t know... a few." Your gentle massage stops and you quickly deliver several slaps, firmer than before. She moans and lifts her ass to your hand.
"How many?" you demand. Again the giggle and wiggle come, her voice is breathy with excitement, "Umm... every day." Your hand has resumed its slow massage, and now you pull her skirt up, letting the silk slide up her thighs, over her bare ass cheeks.
The garter belt is black and red satin and lace, and typical of her, no panties. You resume the gentle stroking of her ass and legs, skin to skin, her skirt bunched up at her waist. "Every day, hm?" Your fingers slide down her ass and between her thighs. She’s wet already, and you push her legs apart with your hand, letting your fingertips just brush high up on the inside of her thigh. "Every day is very naughty, indeed." Your fingertips flick against her labia once, then quickly withdraw. You hear her moan in protest, but your hand swiftly comes down to slap her exposed ass cheeks.
She’s quivering and trembling, lifting her ass to meet your hand. You don’t spank hard, just enough to sting a little and redden her cheeks a bit. The sound of your hand on her bare skin is punctuated by her eager moans and sighs. Your hand slides down her right cheek, along the back of her thigh to the top of the stocking, tracing the edge where stocking ends and skin begins, then dips to the inside of her thigh and travels up. Your thumb brushes her labia first, and her body twitches, her breath catches and her legs part more, allowing you easier access. You slide your thumb over her; she’s slippery wet, excited, wanting more, arching her back to push into your hand.
This time, you don’t stop or pull away. Still holding her captive across your lap, your thumb pushes inside, cupping your fingers over her mons, her clit nestled between your middle and ring fingers. With a moan of pure pleasure, she grinds herself into your hand, hips circling and pushing. You push into her enough so she feels the pressure, and let her rub against your hand, your thumb circling inside, fingers rocking back and forth. You don’t want her to climax yet; just as you feel her reaching that point, you withdraw your hand. Her squeal of protest tells you just how close she was.
You release her arm, and gently help her up. The expression on her face is a wonderful mix of excitement, arousal, contentment, and just a little frustration, but you ignore any protests from her, lay her back onto your desk and stand between her wide-spread legs. Pushing the skirt up around her hips, your hands caress every inch, cupping her face, brushing her hair away, down her neck to cover her breasts, squeezing her waist and pushing against her hips. She’s smiling up at you, her arms up over her head, "Baby..." her words are a mere whisper, "please." That’s almost more than you can take, but you’re not done yet.
Sitting down in your chair, you pull yourself back up to the desk and guide her feet to rest on the back of your chair, her knees wide apart. This is what you had in mind, her spread open and exposed, waiting for your eager lips and tongue. You start with your lips at the edge of her stockings, kissing that first part of exposed flesh gently. Her soft sighs turn to eager moans when the tip of your tongue caresses her thighs, tickling a little, then biting gently when she giggles and jumps. You continue deliberately tickling with your tongue, biting each time she succumbs to the giggles.
The giggles are quickly replaced with more gasps and moans when your hands press her thighs farther apart and your tongue gently traces the edges of her labia before dipping to taste her juices. She quivers, hissing a breath in, and you place your mouth over her clit, your tongue starting out gently, easing her higher. The sounds coming from her are quickly becoming less articulate, cries of "yes" and "please" and her calling your name have given way to simple gasps, moans and the oohs and aahs of a woman lost in ecstasy. Her hands have come down from over her head, one hand is clenched in your hair, the other clutches a handful of skirt. Sucking her clit into your mouth, you increase the pressure, knowing how close she is.
It happens suddenly, her cries become more insistent, her entire body trembling, her hips lift to your mouth and she’s suddenly wetter than before. She’s shaking, gasping, and pulling at you, her body wrenching with the intensity of her orgasm. Your hand replaces your mouth, covering her entire mons, the heel of your hand on her pubic bone, fingers dipping into her and rubbing, as she continues to shake and tremble under you. She’s totally lost in her own world. She doesn’t notice you standing, using your free hand to undo your pants and free the hard cock within. You take a moment to savor the image – she’s lying back on your desk, legs wide, skirt bunched around her waist. Her skin is flushed, her breathing shallow and ragged, and her lips parted and moist. You sit back in your chair and slide both hands onto her hips and pull her toward you.
Her legs drop off the back of your chair and straddle your hips, and she sits up, sliding off the desk and onto your lap. She lifts her hips up, pressing the head of your cock into wet pussy, and slowly sits. You watch her face, the pure enjoyment, her smile, her “oooh” of pleasure as you fill her. Her skirt settles back down around you and her hands lace behind your head. She presses into you for a kiss, tasting her own juices on your lips. She rocks gently for a moment, and you let her, your hands holding her hips. Then, with gentle pressure of your hands, you urge for more and she gives, sliding herself up and down, grinding and circling her hips. Your hands rest, palms flat in the middle of her back and she leans back against them, pressing her hips harder onto you. With a smile, she lifts her legs higher, hooking her feet around the back of your chair, and then leans farther back. Your hands come around, circle her waist, then caress her breasts and down her stomach.
You watch with delight as she arches back, hands over her head, finally pressing her hands into the floor as she bends backward, still grinding her hips onto your cock. Your hands explore her body, stroking through the silk, squeezing her nipples and cupping her breasts. Then sliding down, pushing her skirt up and out of the way, sliding up her stocking-covered thighs, fingers stroking the tender skin inside her thighs. She pulls her legs farther apart, you glide your hand up higher and place your thumbs on either side of her clit, rubbing slowly while she grinds, feeling the quivering of her body slowly intensify.
She reaches for your hands, pulls herself back to sitting, facing you. Your hands reach around, cup her ass and hold her body tight against you as she grinds her hips. Her fingers tangle in your hair, her back arches and she tosses her head back, crying out as another orgasm hits.
You wait, watching her expression, waiting for her trembling to subside.
And you enjoy the sight. Her hair mussed and tousled, dress rumpled, and one clasp on her garter belt has come undone. You reach down and refasten the clasp, then grasp her around the waist and guide her up, standing with her, holding her wrapped in your arms for a moment before pushing her back onto your desk. Standing between her spread legs, your hands roam her body. Your fingers trail up her legs, from ankle to thigh, then slide under her skirt, lingering on the bare skin before sliding in to brush against her pouty, wet, pussy lips, making her jump.
You slide your hands up over that deliciously soft silk, pressing it into her, sliding the fabric against her breasts, squeezing her breasts in your hands, tweaking her nipples a bit. You push her skirt back up around her waist and press your hard cock against her entrance, then slide in slowly, feeling her pussy clench around you, twitching and pulsing. Watching her face, enjoying her reactions, you place your hands on the desk, on either side of her body and lean over and into her. Her hands reach and grab for your shoulders. She pulls her knees wide and high, letting you press even deeper.
You know what she wants, but still you demand, "Tell me." The command comes with one short pump, out and back in, hard. She moans and writhes, whispering, "Please..." You lean into her more, pushing hard into her, then pull back out, eliciting a keening wail of protest from her. "Tell me!" This time, the command in punctuated by a hard thrust, her mouth opens in a gasp of joy.
"I want you," her voice is raspy from passion, breathy and soft, "to fuck me, hard, fast and deep... Please!"
The very words you were waiting for, out of her mouth. Leaning into her, you pull back again and thrust forward, her back arches up, her hips rising to meet your thrust, and her fingers clench into your shoulders. A few hard thrusts and she is beyond words, her pleasure expressed in gasps and cries, and her pulling herself up to you, wrapping her arms around your back, her lips at your shoulder. You don’t even really feel her teeth gently biting in, or her nails digging into your back.
You do feel the clenching of tight, wet pussy around your cock. You do feel her complete abandon and you feel the silk of her dress against your arms. You thrust harder, deeper, and each time, she lifts to meet you, moans in pleasure and craves more. The sex is rough, passionate, animalistic – driving, thrusting, and grinding, and through it all, she is wrapped around you, clinging, clutching, and wanting all of you, crying out for more. Your hands move to her hips and your fingers dig into her skin as you push into her one last time, pouring into her as you come.
Without pulling out, you sit back into your chair, pulling her with you, into your lap, your arms around her back. She wraps herself around you, her face nestled into the curve of your neck, lips brushing your skin, arms wrapped around your shoulders. And you wait, enjoying the feeling of the spasms that continue to twitch through her body, the soft sighs and little moans that still escape her. Especially enjoying the feeling of slowly going soft while still inside her. You lose track of time sitting this way, eyes closed.
The gentle kiss she gives you is almost a surprise, as she slowly stands, and straightens the now very rumpled dress. "I’ll get out of your hair and let you finish work now."
With a swish and rustle of silk, she leaves your office. Watching her leave, you decide it is definitely time to call it a day, and you get up to follow.
Originally published April, 2009