Dennis Chronicles - Shop Office Fire

Flannel, Fire, and the Office Chair

Blurb:

What starts as a winter "coffee" meetup at Dennis's shop turns into a flannel-clad, office-chair-fuelled fantasy come true. He says no sex at the shop--but this time, the fire between them won't be denied...

It's strange how the universe works. As I've said before, Dennis and I have an unconventional relationship--but it works.

When I decided it was time for a change of workspace, it's funny what came to me. Out of all the jobs offered, the one around the corner from Dennis's shop offered the best package--plus no weekend work, which allowed me to continue with my side wedding business. Turns out, this was also a convenient way for Dennis and me to see each other.

One of the best aspects of our relationship is the friendship. With Dennis, I can be completely myself--which, after 50 years on this earth, you might think is strange. But it's not, if you knew the circumstances.

Anyway... I'm getting away from the memory of this specific evening.

It was the dead of winter, and we'd been chatting on the phone--talking about life, and yes, of course, sex. Our usual: what we want to do, teasing, and "look at these pics we took," flirting and building up to being together. As we were chatting, Dennis said he needed to go get fuel for his truck.

I almost choked.

I'd just realized that when I left work, I'd forgotten to lock the property gate. I mentioned it, and he laughed and said, "Funny--I need to grab my jacket from the shop. Forgot it earlier today."

So, after all that sex talk on the phone, I suggested we meet at the shop for a little "coffee."

Now, we meet for coffee whenever we can during the workday--catch up, flirt, touch. But that's it. Dennis says no sex at the shop. People just drop in sometimes, and he doesn't want to get caught.

But wait--isn't that what fuels the fire of desire? Umm, YES.

I had just had my bath and made my body Dennis-smooth--not knowing I'd need to go out in the cold--but when the opportunity came for coffee with him, I wasn't passing it up. It was evening. No one would drop in. So I planned to turn the heat up on Dennis and have him have his way with me.

What do I do? Ha! I put on my flannel pyjamas under my coat and off I go.

I was already wet from our earlier conversation--but honestly, just the thought of Dennis and what we do makes me wet and wanting more. I was fantasizing about how this could unfold in his office... while giggling to myself. I was wearing the least sexy thing I owned. Definitely not what he'd expect me to show up in.

To be fair, one winter night a few years back, I showed up at his place wearing nothing but my boots and a coat. Hmmm... that was a great night too--but that's another story.

Dennis hates the cold and parks in the shop now. That night, he parked in the front; I parked out back and waited. And waited. And waited. Turned out he was inside the whole time.

Well, at least it gave him a chance to eat. So, in I go--with the coffee.

Yes, coffee has become a euphemism for sex for us. But I do show up with actual coffee. He brings me tea when he comes to mine. It's our thing.

I told him I was leaving the house with flannels on. He didn't believe me.

I'd told him a hundred times that I wanted him to fuck me in his office. I reminded him again on the phone before I even left. He said no.

Sure.

I figured, we'll see.

I walk into the shop and breathe in the familiar wood smell--Dennis's workday, his element. I love watching him work, the way he moves. When he lets me watch, I always find a way to touch him just enough to provoke a response. He'll give me that look--"Not now"--but he loves it. I know he does.

I head into the office. Dennis is sitting back in his chair, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

I moan with satisfaction. His cock is already hard--straining against his jeans.

I drop my coat.

Yep--flannel. Full-on flannel pyjamas.

The look on his face was priceless.

But I didn't waste time. I didn't sit in the chair across from him. Mmm no--I wanted to undo his pants, to feel his cock in my hand, to lick the precum from the head of that mesmerizing, huge, thick cock.

He shook his head. "What are you wearing?"

"Don't worry," I smirked. "There's nothing underneath."

"Really?"

Classic Dennis. His favourites are Hmm, Really, Cool, and of course, the ever-loaded tool comment. He's a man of few words--but a lot of action.

Dennis likes to feel wanted. He waits to see how I approach him. Makes me feel like I'm in control, even when he's the one calling the shots.

I pushed his chair back and leaned over, hovering close to his lips. I didn't kiss him.

He looked at me. "Really?"

I giggled, then kissed him. His hand slid under my top, finding skin.

God, those hands. Calloused from carpentry, strong and capable. He's amazing at what he does. But he's even better at this.

I thought I was wet before. When Dennis touched me, kissed me harder, pulled me close--my pussy turned into a hum.

I started undoing his belt.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

I looked into his eyes and dared him to stop me.

I unzipped his jeans, freeing his cock. That cock. A masterpiece.

We'd touched and groped in the shop before, but he'd never let us go this far.

I stroked him as he pulled my flannel bottoms down, slipping his fingers between my thighs. When he felt how wet I was, I felt his cock get even harder.

I wiped his precum with my thumb and brought it to my mouth. God, I love how he tastes.

I knelt down between his legs. My tongue flicked over the head of his cock. Then I sucked--slow, deliberate, worshipful. A lollipop of lust.

Dennis's legs tightened under my hands. He moved his hips, and then placed his hand on my head--pushing his cock deeper into my throat.

Mmm.

I sucked him deeper, stroked him harder. He started to relax--and then, to my surprise, he started snapping pictures.

Pictures. Fuck. Maybe, just maybe, I was going to get my wish.

I pulled up, kissed him, and he tugged my bottoms off completely. I climbed onto his lap, straddling him, hovering. At 5'2", it was a bit of a stretch--but I managed.

His hands gripped my hips.

Was he trying to stop me? Or fuck me?

I slid his cock over my slick folds but didn't let him in--not yet. My body screamed for him to slam inside me.

Instead, he pressed his thumb to my clit. "Cum."

I tried to lower myself. He wouldn't let me.

His hand gripped my ass, pinning me in place while his thumb worked me relentlessly.

And then--boom. I came. My legs weak, pussy pulsing, body trembling in his hands.

He pulled me in, kissed me hard, then slipped his thumb in my mouth so I could taste myself.

I started teasing him with my pussy again--just the tip. His breathing got ragged. I moved slowly, letting his cock slide just inside. I heard him groan, felt him twitch.

He grabbed my phone and started taking pictures. I couldn't wait to see them later--to relive this moment.

I lifted off, turned around, and bent over the desk--knowing full well he wouldn't resist.

And then--SMACK.

"What the fuck?!"

Dennis laughed.

That devilish look in his eyes: You're mine.

I told him what I wanted--to be bent over his desk and fucked hard.

To my surprise, he moved everything aside, pulled me into position, and spread my legs with his knee. One hand on my hip, the other at the back of my neck.

But instead of slamming into me, he teased--just the head, in and out.

"Please..." I begged.

Then he slid in deeper. Moaned.

Then--"FUCK."

Dennis gave me what I'd begged for.

His cock pounded me hard, deep. My pussy clenched tight, so wet, so full.

I didn't want it to stop.

His breath was ragged, hips relentless. "Cum," he growled.

And I did.

Explosive, consuming, firework release.

Dennis came with me--thrusting, groaning, emptying inside me.

After, I pushed him back into his chair, dropped to my knees, and licked him clean.

The best dessert to go with our coffee and tea.

The night hadn't gone exactly how I planned--but it had gone even better.

And hey--a girl can always hope.

And fantasize.

Can't she?