It's a hot summer's day, about as hot as this country ever gets, which isn't very hot. Unused to it as we are, we are all sweltering in the office. The sun is streaming through the window behind me. We've opened it, but there is no air to stir even the corner of one of the papers strewn across my desk.
My colleagues have all gone out to lunch, to find a pub with a garden and enjoy a cool beer and this rare heat. I want to leave early, as I am joining you in the city this evening, and have elected to eat a sandwich as I work. I'm checking figures, crunching numbers into my machine. The heat and the figures marching resolutely over the page, column by column, are beginning to get to me. My eyelids are feeling heavy.
I shake my head and sip some tea that has now gone cold. I lean back in my chair and close my eyes for just a minute. Deprived of my visual sense, my ears discern that there are still people on my floor, across the corridor on the other side of the fabric-covered, chin-high partition against which my desk rests.
My thoughts turn to you. I see you in my mind's eye: your thick dark, dark hair, your big brown eyes, your pale, pale skin, your cheeky smile. Just the thought of you makes me feel light-headed; for I am in love with you, the first man I have ever loved.
My mind wanders to our weekend. As often, we whiled away the entire two days exploring each other's bodies, discovering new ways to give each other pleasure, revelling in what we found, and emerging from our charting of unknown territory only to provide our bodies with the energy to continue.
My fingers are no longer darting over the keys of my calculating machine, but over the two layers of thin fabric that shield my mound. I'm wearing a cheesecloth shirtdress that buttons all the way down. I start to undo the fastenings that secure it across my lower belly and slip my fingers inside my knickers.
I gently stroke my clitoris as I remember how we had gone to the kitchen to get something to eat, but instead were ourselves consumed once more with lust. I see again how, before I even realised what was going on, you had lifted me to the countertop and slid inside my pussy, still soaking from our previous encounter.
The touch of my fingers and the thought of our lovemaking send little shivers through my body, and it is all I can do to not moan out loud and alert my colleagues so close by. My fingers slide down further between my inner lips, reminding me of the caress of your tongue, and trail the thick moisture of my pussy back up to envelop all my sensitive parts.
I shift my buttocks forward in my chair, allowing my pelvis to tip back and my fingers to slip inside me. They move slowly back and forth, in time with the strokes of your shaft behind my eyes. My thoughts wander to last night when my need for you had forced me to semi-consciousness. Still half asleep, I had reached for you, had begun to coax you awake sufficiently to quench my desire. Still somnolent, we had slithered together, lethargically moving in harmony to a deliciously leisurely climax.
My hand imitates our movements, gliding in and out, sending jolts of electricity through me. Suddenly I become aware of where I am and what I'm doing, of time passing and of the imminent return of my co-workers. My eyes flutter open and I raise my hand to my mouth to suck my lemon-scented juices from my fingers.
I button my clothes and stand up to go to the ladies' room. As I stroll down the corridor, I pass my boss returning from lunch. I smile, in greeting but also at my little secret. I can't wait to tell you all about it.
(A true story.)
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Submitted by:
lennythelion
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