I’d love to strip you down, and take that hard cock of yours in my mouth. But instead I settle for unzipping those polyester nightmare uniform pants. You’re ready to stroke it for me, because you know it would turn me on so much that I wouldn’t be able to think. But I stop you, and take you in my mouth. You taste of sweat and hard work, and your scent is that combination of musk and hormones that drives me primal.
Mmmm, you’re hard, and hot, sticky and sweet at the same time. I flatten my tongue and use it in broad strokes up and down the shaft, taking time to use the tip of it around the ridge of your head. The skin is smooth, and I playfully nip at it. My other hand reaches up to play with your balls and your fingers tangle in my hair, keeping my head steady as you fuck my face. I open my mouth wider, swirling my tongue around you as you bang against the back of my throat. My pussy’s wet, and hot, and I’m dying to be fucked. The smell of my arousal fills the small bathroom, and my juices are dripping down my thighs. I squirm, trying to move my thong against my clit, to provide even a little relief.
You can read it in my eyes that I want you. But you shake your head, smirking. I’m not getting off today. Only you are. My cheeks cave as I suction your dick. You keep my head pistoning up and down on your rod, pausing long enough to flex one strong hand. One finger gently traced along my jawline, and you smile, releasing my hair and easing me back.
I stay on my knees, knowing what’s next. I remove my shirt, and my bra, and start massaging my tits, offering them up to you, like a sacrifice. But what’s going to happen next is no sacrifice. It’s going to get me even hotter, if that’s possible. You fist yourself, jacking your cock with a somber look on your face, your eyes never leaving my face. I tweak my nipples, rolling them between my fingers, pulling at them, as I stare, mesmerized by your hand. It moves faster, and harder, and I can hear the moan in the back of your throat that means you’re ready.
You throw your head back, and I watch, as if in slow motion, as white hot jets of relief spurt out of your hard on. Your hand continues, and you groan loudly, not caring at this point if anyone knows that we’re in here, that we’re fucking around. Ribbons land on my tits, and I massage it into my skin in some places, and allow it to bead in others. I lean in, sucking on the tip, tasting you, taking whatever’s left.
You wash your hands, leaving me on my knees. You turn and help me up, handing me my bra and t-shirt. I put them on again, still painfully aware that I’m horny as hell and need to come. I look in the mirror and see the t-shirt sticking in places. We smile at each other, knowing that I’m taking you with me back to my desk.
And I’ll be thinking about you all day, waiting for quitting time.
Then, it’s my turn.
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