Hooking up with You at Work

Let me tell you a secret. I've had a huge crush on you for a while.

Your deep voice. Your dark stubble. Your tall, solid figure, contained in its neat business suit. Your sexy, hairy arms which you show when you roll your sleeves up in summer. Yum. I'm not the only person at the office whose gaze lingers on you. Lots of the women and a couple of the guys too.

You're giving a presentation and I'm watching you, biting on the end of my biro. You look so manly standing up there. Strong chest, strong biceps, that hint of a bulge in your work trousers. I imagine unzipping them, putting my hand through the fly of your boxers, and finding your moist, warm, already half-erect cock inside. My mouth waters. I'm on fire with lust.

The next day, I slide into your office late in the afternoon. It's a quiet day - most people are working remotely. You look tired and pinch your forehead as you look up from your screen. You have a lot of responsibility on your shoulders with this new project. It's all I can do not to sink to my knees under your desk and take your cock out there and then. In my head I murmur, "Let me de-stress you..."

A look of longing must have reached my face during this brief dirty thought, because you redden and look flustered. I unbuttoned my blouse before I came in, just one button more than is quite decent for the workplace. My breasts are straining against my shirt, you can see the lacy top of my bra easily. Your eyes flicker down and then back up in panic in case you're caught perving. Good. Into my mind springs an unbidden image of you cumming in white jets all over my bare breasts, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

It's my turn to flush. "Damn, it's hot in here..." I wave my hand in front of my face.

You nod and turn up the aircon. You clear your throat. "I wanted to connect with you about the content strategy."

I smile and sit myself confidently on the chair beside your desk. I wish I was wearing something sexier than pinstripe trousers but I cross my legs anyway. Your closeness makes my pussy throb. I try to convey this to you without words, by the way I look deep into your eyes. But you're already turning to your screen, bringing up a spreadsheet with one flick of your strong, hairy wrist. I nearly moan. That little button on the top of the mouse looks just like a clitoris, rolling under your fingers. How I wish it was my clit. I think you could make me cum in seconds if you got the pressure right. Now you've made me jealous of a computer mouse.

We discuss the work and I ask for your number so we can connect. You give it willingly with a slight smile.

Later that night and over the next couple of days we begin to share some flirty texts that get hotter and hotter. I boldly tell you my fantasy of hooking up at work. You say eventually, Leave it with me. I think I can do something. Tomorrow? I ask. Tomorrow. I'll message you first thing.

The next day I put on a fairly short, pleated skirt, a bit like I used to wear at girl's school years ago, and thigh highs underneath. The tops of the stockings half way up my thighs always feels great on my skin, although I've made sure the skirt just covers those tops. The slutty and sensual nature of them is for me to reveal to you alone. I know they look good to lots of men. I hope you're one of them. I choose a fierce, fitted jacket over the top so I can at least act like I'm getting some proper work done.

Your message pings not long after I've arrived at the office. Meet me in the gender neutral bathroom at 12.

I'm so excited all morning, I can't concentrate on my work. I've dreamed about making you cum many times before. I want to hear and feel your masculine control shatter and break with how turned on you are. My legs feel sensual in the thigh highs. Something about the gap between stocking top and what's between the legs. The teasing hint.

If I was working from home right now I'd slide my fingers down the front of my panties and start to massage myself, wriggling myself on the seat in arousal, but I can't here in an open-plan office. Such exquisite torture.

Midday approaches and I go down the empty corridor to the bathroom you suggested. It's 5 past 12. I slip in -- and can't see anyone. There are two sinks and two stalls. I think you might be in one as its door looks almost closed, but then the outer door opens and I stare at you as you come in. "Sorry," you say, "I was trying to get away." You turn and lock this door from the inside; you have James Bond-like access to these things.

I lean my butt lightly against the sink. "Only just got here." I smile. There's tension in the air but a thrill too. Much less embarrassment than I'd feared. You look hot. I feel hot. I say, lowering my voice, "I'm glad you came."

You step forward and look at me, your eyes running hungrily over me. You reach out and touch my hair. "I've been thinking about this. A lot."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh." Our hips are close now.

"Me too." I look down at the floor and up again in that flirtatious glance that lets a man know what you want. I part my lips slightly. These things don't happen entirely consciously, by the way. There are a mere consequence of my powerful sexual attraction to you.

You kiss me and I make a little sound in the back of my throat. We start to put our hands on each other. You stroke my backside through my skirt, then you put your hand under it, to touch the peachy soft skin of my ass cheeks; your touch makes me shiver. I feel your hard bulge pressing against me and my hand quickly finds your zip. You grunt softly as I slip my hand inside your trousers and begin to massage your erection through your underwear.

"I wanna taste you," I say, pulling your cock out of the opening in your boxers. It's hardening rapidly.

"No complaints here." You grin. "None at all."

Swiftly, I kneel on the hard tile, feeling slutty and a little submissive. I'm not a total sub, and sometimes prefer to be the one in charge, but masculine, hairy men like you bring out the side to me that wants to be teased, handcuffed, dominated.

I can feel your anticipation, your desire for me to open up my lips to you. But I decide to make you wait a little. Holding your nearly fully erect dick upright in my left hand, I put my right hand out to stroke your sensitive balls, also hanging out of your underwear. They feel surprisingly soft, the sack hairy but not as coarse as I imagined. You grunt and shiver as I roll them on the tips of my fingers. Then I press my nose against your scrotum and inhale your musky scent, before taking the balls in their sack into my soft, wet mouth and giving them a slow, thorough tongue bath. There's something exciting about licking the part of you that makes all that delicious sperm. The stuff that boils up inside you when you're on the brink of nutting your brains out.

Your balls are full and tight in the scrotum. You shiver as I nuzzle, lick and stroke them. "Damn that's good," you say under your breath. "My balls are aching like fuck."

I wonder when you last emptied them. Perhaps it was a while ago. Or maybe you're just extremely turned on.

Not surprisingly, your cock is hard as steel now, throbbing next to my face. It's beautiful -- large and thick, foreskin drawn back, the head drooling precum already, red and excited. I tease it against my cheek and rub my soft hair over it. I let my hot breath cover it, flick the very tip of my tongue to the little sensitive part on the underside of the head. You shift and sigh, desperate to thrust it into my mouth and down my throat; your hips are starting to jerk slightly. I look up at you, your cock in my fist, squeezing the hard, leaking shaft. I hold your gaze for a moment, putting as much desire into it as I can. You seem lost for a second in my eyes; your penis stiffens even further; it's like concrete.

You nudge your hips forward and finally I put your cock in my mouth. I stretch out my tongue to cushion the underside. I lick and suck, swirling my tongue around your shaft. I grasp the base with my hand and take you down to the edge of my gag reflex. You moan, your deep voice cracking. I can sense your fingers clenching and unclenching, then you begin to thrust in and out of my mouth. You're holding back I can tell. You make some really hot moans as I suck your delicious dick. After a while, I feel your palm on my forehead pushing me back. I pop off, looking up at you through bleary eyes; your own eyes are screwed shut.

I hold your throbbing penis in my hand. The end is almost purple and streaming with my saliva and your sweet precum.

"I'm... it's been a while..." You take a deep breath, then open your eyes and look down at me. You smile weakly. "Sorry. Just very turned on."

I play and suck a bit more, varying the pace, looking up at you. Then you pull me up to standing by my elbows -- your cock is sticking straight out of your fly, rigid, dripping -- and kiss me hard on the mouth. "Mmm," you say, "I love tasting myself on you."

"I love tasting you too," I whisper in your ear. "What now?"

You put your mouth to my other ear. "I want to see properly what's under this sexy little skirt..."

I turn around, lean forward over the sink and my skirt rides up at the back. It reveals the round cheeks of my ass and the tiniest strip of my coral-pink panties just covering my newly-shaved slit and asshole.

Of course the panties are already completely soaked in the crotch. If you put your hand on my puffy pussy mound you'll feel how drenched the gusset is with my juices. But I don't want you to touch me there yet as I might just explode into orgasm from the faintest brush of your fingers.

You are standing behind me and, raising my eyes to the mirror, I can see you looking at my ass and barely covered pussy. Your hands reach out and then falter - it's like you don't know where to touch first. You clear your throat.

"Are you sure?" Your voice is low and shaky.

"Yes, oh God yes."

You look down at your crotch but I can't see very well. I raise my head and start to turn but you push me gently but firmly back into position over the sink. "No. Stay just like that. It's perfect. "

I feel like such a horny slut, my skirt hiked up, my ass and pussy up in the air for anyone to see. As you stumble closer, your hand at cock level, a naughty thought crosses my mind. What if you made me stay like this and let other men come in to watch?

I want your hard dick. I've been dreaming about it at night, playing with myself, moaning your name while fucking myself with a dildo - but there's a part of me that wants to make other dicks hard at the same time. Other guys gazing with lust at my split-open pussy; other guys fumbling at their flies to furiously stroke themselves off as they watch us... other women too, rubbing and finger fucking their own pussies... making those delicious moaning sounds that only women can make and which arouse even the straightest of girls...

But you don't put your dick where I think you will. Yet. You sink down out of sight of the mirror.

In what must be a thigh-burning crouch, you turn your mouth's attention to what's between my legs. I can't see it but I can feel the sensations. Your lips are kissing me on my dark-stained gusset. It's all arousal and all caused by you. I feel you slide the strip of my panties to one side. We've talked about this before -- slipping aside that thin scrap to get to the prize underneath is a big turn on for us both, and usually sexier than just nothing at all. (Although I would love to shock you one day by turning up at work with no underwear on at all and just sending you a text saying "Forgot to put my panties on today" with no other explanation.)

You hum quietly against my desperate labia and swollen clit; your tongue darts out to flick me and I moan in response, much louder.

"Ssssh," you say, your deep voice vibrating through my now bare, aching pussy. "We need to keep it down."

"Ohhhh...." I'm not sure if I can. Not when you're doing that with your mouth. I push myself back against you, desperate to grind my pussy harder on your lips and teeth, your scratchy stubble. One day I'm going to sit on your face and grind myself to an insane orgasm, while you lie beneath me, gorging yourself on my sweet nectar.

"I could stay like this forever" you say, muffled. "But my cock feels like it's gonna burst."

I try to reach round to grab it but I can't reach. You push me back to face the mirror and stand up straight behind me. On my tiptoes I try to peer down at your image in the mirror; I can just see the end of your cock bobbing in front of you.

With a groan you grab my waist and begin to slide your steel hard cock slowly over my ass and between my legs: it's slipping along the wet slit of my pussy lips, agonisingly slow. I'm tingling and wriggling, desperate to feel more contact. You begin to thrust harder and faster along my slit. I grab hold of the sink taps in front of me, feeling like I'm almost on the edge of cumming.

You moan into my ear. "This feels so fucking good."

"Oh, oh," I gasp, and suddenly I'm creaming everywhere. Through my panties onto the throbbing head of your cock, bucking against the sink as the orgasm tears through me. I can't hold off, you've brought me over the edge so fast. Even though you haven't entered me (and believe me, I would love you to), just the feeling of your rigid cock thrusting against me is too much.

I moan as I cum, unable to stay quiet - then I hear you groan and the flood of your hot seed covers my pussy like lava, your fingers digging into my hips as you ram yourself forward, your big cock jabbing at me, twitching and spurting over and over again. "Yeah, yeah" you mutter, your breath as fast as if you've run a race, your pleasure drowning out mine. I can feel you spewing copious amounts of cum out of your dick, adding to the wet mess of my panties. You end on an almost pained "ahhh" sound as if you came so exquisitely hard it hurt.

Finally your cock is spent. My legs are shaking. When you pull away you replace your softening cock with your finger, running it slowly through your cum, soaked into the opening of my vagina and my pushed-aside panties. "I can't get enough," you say, "the smell, the taste of these little panties... how wet you got them because of me... and knowing my spunk is on there now... it almost makes my cock twitch and I've just unloaded..."

I stand upright, tottering on my heels, and shrug the panties over my hips and down my thigh-high clad legs. I'm still facing the mirror and I smirk at you as I step out of the panties, lean to the side and pick them up. I turn around to face you, sweaty and flushed, and hand the wet scrap of panties to you. "Keep them."

It's then I hear a sound from within one of the stalls I thought was empty. A grunt and a shuffle. We stare at each other, wide eyed.

I think we've been watched...