They Don't Fuck in The Reception

[Teasing][Voyeur][Exhibitionist][Cunnilingus][Pussy Eating]

Sunbeams catch the drifting dust. I spend a few minutes fancifully imagining that the sandman had to leave in such a rush that his trail is still shimmering in the morning air.

God, I wish I was still in bed.

Still, the cute receptionist smiled at me when I arrived, so that's something.

I look at her. She's shuffling papers in a random sort of way. She's taken special care with her makeup today and it really suits her. Her lipstick is particularly good, I watch her lips carefully, trying to read her emotions through her subtle quirks... I'm staring. I'm way too old to be staring; I look away before she notices.

I let my eyes roam the waiting room. There really is nothing here.

Surely I'm the first patient? I didn't even think they opened this early. So would it kill the doctor to see me 15 minutes prematurely? Is he just going to sit in his office until the exact minute of my appointment?

Probably.

I look back at the only point of interest in this whole room.

The receptionist is leaning over, reading something really closely. She hasn't noticed but the top of her shirt is hanging open, and I can clearly see-

I snatch my eyes away. Oh look, a spider web! Miracle of nature that! Yes sir, nature's engineers! I try to focus on the delicate lace of the web but I keep thinking of the black lace of her bra.

My face is burning. I'm sure I must be as red as a tomato.

I must have seen wrong, I lie to myself, I should check again. Really just being a good citizen by correcting my overcharged imagination. I look back at her.

Her dark lacy bra makes an amazing contrast with her pale white breasts. I should definitely look away, this isn't for me.

Which makes it a forbidden pleasure.

I pick up a magazine and hold it up to just below my eyeline. Offering a silent prayer that she doesn't look my way. Whatever she's reading, her sensual lips are quirked in a smile. Amusing patient notes? Hypocritical for me to worry about patient privacy given the way I'm staring.

The low sun casts fascinating shadows over the slope of her breasts. They move ever so slightly as she breathes. In fact, when I focus on the terminator where they disappear under the loops of lace that decorate the edge of the cup, I fancy I can even pick up her heartbeat. My own heartbeat is racing.

Abruptly she sits straight again, which closes her shirt and ends my show. I imagine I'll feel guilty about what I just did later, and then periodically over the next 20 years whenever this memory pops into my mind. For now I raise the magazine a little higher and re-read the same headline about 50 times while I wait for my heart to calm down.

Oh look! This article is about 12 warming winter dishes. I snidely look out the window. About 6 months out of date then. I look at the publication date on the cover... Or quite a bit more. My God, this magazine is old enough to be married to a sleazy old man in a quasi-legal religious ceremony!

As a sleazy old man myself, I wonder if the receptionist would find my joke funny. I look over the top of the magazine at her... And discover that she's leaning forward again.

I briefly wrestle with my conscience, and pin it handily. I try to get another look at her bra.

... And fail... Because I can see her pert breasts are capped with stiff, dark nipples... Because she's not wearing a bra... Because she took her bra off...

Oh.

OH!

My mouth goes dry. My hands shake. Is this happening!? Why did no one warn me? I could have memorized some smooth lines!

I glance at the door, the window, the door again. I'm checking for people who might see, but my heart is racing like it thinks I'm going to jump through them.

The doctor! He's still in his office! He could come out at any time!

The cute receptionist straightens up, grinning at the other corner of the room.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! I need to respond. Quickly, how do you flirt!? I never knew before the divorce and I certainly don't know now. Why did I never have a conversation with her before?

Just do something, tease back!

Okay smart guy, how do you tease?

I look down at my crotch. Nothing like a standing ovation, I guess. I adjust my grey sweatpants, dragging the fabric to make my hopeful erection as obvious as possible, then I look at a different corner of the room.

Like it could be a coincidence the way I've adjusted myself to give her a good look. She can't prove anything. I'm trying to project a calm like the front of house at a fancy restaurant; all furious screaming out back.

I hear the creaking of her seat and I realise she's just stood up. Then I hear her tread as she approaches me. Then I can only hear the pounding of my heart in my ears. Is it possible that I've misread the situation? Bras can be uncomfortable, is it so impossible that a woman would want to take one off at work? What if she's coming over to slap my face, or worse, tell me that she thinks I'm a creep?

My thoughts are clouding up and getting stormier all the time when, like the beam of a lighthouse, her pale thighs sweep through my line of sight.

My heart catches in my throat. My God. You wore a mini skirt to work?

She opens the bottom draw of the filing cabinet next to me, and bends at the waist to access it. I don't see what she's doing and I don't care. I just watch as the fabric of her skirt slides up the back of her thighs until they reveal her lovely, lacy, black panties.

You wore a matching set. Was that for me?

I stare at her at her pale skin and her dark panties. At the curve of her ass, the little dip where her thighs meet. I can see the hint of shapes through the weave. I can scent the faintest trace of a woman's arousal on the air. I realise I'm moving toward her, like a man rolling downhill, picking up speed. I don't care.

My lips meet the delicate skin under the curve of her ass and she jumps up. She turns to me with an arched eyebrow and a smirk. I feel pinned by her gaze, chastised but very happy.

She walks past me and returns to her desk. She doesn't look back.

Was that all you wanted my dear? If so then thank you; you've made an old man very happy.

She's fiddling in her seat and I can't see what she's doing, but then she reaches over to the ubiquitous mug of pens and drapes something dark over a long one, where it hangs like a flag on a pole.

I jump in my seat as I realise I'm looking at her black panties, now very much removed from her body. She looks at me again and the smirk is back; this time I read it as a challenge.

Game on my dear. I couldn't ask for a nicer starter flag.

My erection isn't hopeful anymore; it's surging and triumphant. I decide she's not the only one who can tease.

I stand up, and I make sure she can see my bulge. I trace my fingers over it in case there's any confusion, and she bites her lip and nods.

I feel a fluttering sensation at her approval. It's somewhere in my chest and therefore probably not connected to the fingers fluttering over my cock.

I turn to the side to give her the profile view and start toying with the waistband of my sweat pants. Slowly working them lower and lower until there's just a hint of where my body stops moving inwards, and starts jutting outwards.

I can feel her laser attention on that tiny patch of exposed skin. I feel like the lady of the lake, teasing Arthur with just the pommel of Excalibar.

Do you want it, my dear?

Then I'm afraid you'll have to work for it.

I pull my sweatpants and boxers down, but, in the same motion, I turn my body away and sit in a chair. I don't look back. My cock is out, but she's in the wrong place to see it. How's that for a tease?

I'm really proud of myself at first, but as I admire my cock in the morning sunbeams, a small shadow starts to pass over my mind.

The seconds are ticking on and she hasn't approached me. Can she see me? Is there maybe some mirror or... no there's nothing like that.

There's a tightness in my chest and I start to wonder if I'm overreaching, maybe teasing is for young women, not for divorced middle aged men.

I start to feel a little ill. In a doctor's office! These places make you sick, you know; you only have to walk in and you'll see that everyone is sitting around and looking poorly.

I consider taking that joke and using it as an excuse to turn around, but then I hear the creaking of her chair and her soft tread on the carpet.

Coming to get a peek at my peak my dear? I never doubted for a moment.

I listen to her approach. The sound of her feet getting louder and louder until it's almost louder than my heart. Then her feet stumble and my heart skips.

I reach for her falling body, but she seems to twist in the air and reach out for me. I miss her and she grabs a firm hold of my cock.

I gasp.

Two years, three months, and 24 days since the divorce was finalised. Probably add another Four years on top of that and that's how long it's been since a woman held my cock.

It feels like a jolt of electricity, straight to the heart. Keep it together old man. If you die here then you'll never find out what happens next.

She's landed in a comfortable crouch and she's not looking at me. I could almost believe that it was a coincidence if not for the way she's smirking at the carpet.

She gets back to her feet, in a complicated motion which apparently involves shifting her weight several times and running her hand up and down my cock. Then she lets go.

For a moment her fingers are trailing back, almost reaching for me, and my heart tables a motion that we thrust our whole body up to meet them, but my knees issue an injunction on behalf of my back, and the moment passes even as the motion fails to.

Then of course, she bends at the waist, and her miniskirt rides up, and suddenly we have many interesting new issues to consider.

I can see it, as clear as a sunrise between two pale trees, and I stumble towards it like a man who has been freed from the darkest dungeon. It could be a flower; two inviting petals with a delicate fuzz, folding towards a crease that glistens with nectar and fills the air with an aroma that makes my hands twitch and my mouth water. Naked and unashamed, a woman's cunt!

I kneel behind her and I kiss it. Meeting her lips with mine. She gasps, and for a moment I think I've gone too far, but then she arches her back further and widens her stance just a little. Making that beautiful flower bloom.

You don't know what you've done my dear. You don't know how long it's been.

I remember how this works. I should trail kisses to the very edge of her slit, and then back off. I should hold her like I'm about to lick her, and then blow warm air over her instead. I should tease and torment her until she's dripping wet and shivering with need.

It's been far too long, I know I'm not going to do any of that.

I attack her.

I savagely maul her pussy. I lash her with my tongue, flogging her clit. I eat like the man freed from the dungeon, like I'm trying to fill years of empty plates. I slurp and I suck and I hear her screaming and I pay it no mind. It's not until she reaches back and pushes my head away that I realise she's fallen on the floor.

Face on the carpet, ass in the air. Trembling. Vulnerable. She's panting for oxygen, her hair over her face. I don't think she even realises how exposed she is.

I do though. Her pussy is red and swollen and partly open like a confessional with the curtain half drawn. Forgive me Father for I'm about to sin.

I pull my trousers down and free my rigid cock, and she doesn't react.

I dig my fingers into the soft flesh of her ass and spread those lips apart, and she fills the air with a low moan and does nothing to stop me.

I line my cock up with her entrance, and for a moment I'm like a diver on the board. Everything tense, the warm waters below ready to be parted. Let's hope I still remember all the positions.

Then the head of my cock touches her from behind, and she suddenly leaps forward with a gasp, breaking out of my grip. I'm shocked, I reach for her and drag her back grab the filing cabinet.

I grip the carpet with one hand and the filing cabinet with the other, and I breathe. Control yourself, old man.

She lays on the floor, breathes deeply, and doesn't look back at me. That lovely pussy is still peaking out from the hem of her miniskirt. I look away.

I look down at the carpet and feel my shoulders folding inward. I feel like I've done something wrong. Maybe I got too eager and pushed too far. Maybe that's it and the game is over.

I see her move in my peripheral vision and I don't look at her.

Not even as she approaches me, not when she puts one hand on my chin. Not until she physically turns my head to look at her.

I'm so sure she's going to be angry that for a moment I see her flushed face and flared nostrils and I brace for what's coming.

But then I see her eyes.

Heavy, half lidded, pupils wide and soft, gaze flicking between my eyes and my mouth. She's not angry, she's aroused.

I look down at her lips. Her jaw is relaxed, her lips are half parted. Her warm breath is playing over my own lips. I hadn't realised she'd gotten so close.

I tilt my own head, raising my lips to meet hers, but she changes her grip and puts one finger between us. Stopping me.

I stop and, when she sees that, she smiles. She trails that hand down my body until she's holding my cock again and positions herself over me, like a sheath hovering over a sword. Traditionally you thrust the sword into the sheath, but I don't dare thrust, I don't even dare breathe, I'm worried I'm going to break this spell.

She lowers herself towards me, and I feel my stomach tense in anticipation of the moment we meet.

But just before contact is made, she puts one finger between us again and folds my cock towards my stomach, stopping me from sliding inside her.

She settles her weight down on me and the lips of her pussy slide down either side of my shaft. Like draping a warm blanket over a tired old dog.

I let my breath out. My thoughts are swirling, confused. A woman is sitting on my cock for the first time in a long time. It's warm, it's welcoming, and it feels wonderful that a woman judged me worthy, but she's not sitting on the right bit. I'm inside her, but not inside her.

I look at her and she's grinning at me with a lopsided grin, like she's enjoying a joke that only she knows the punchline to.

I reach towards her hips, intending to lift her up and attempt a thrust after all, but she gently takes my wrist and pins it to the carpet. She shakes her head, still grinning.

Then she stands, leaving my cock to spring up and wave helplessly in the air. I wait to see what she has in mind, but she just winks at me, turns, and starts walking away.

I sit bolt upright as it hits me. She's still teasing! The game isn't over!

Her ass swings side to side as she departs. I get to my feet and lunge at her, tackling her to the ground. I grab her ankles and split them apart, thrusting myself into her all the way to the base. I bite and suck her neck and breasts and collarbone and every part of her I can reach. and the whole time I'm slamming into her teasing pussy, punishing her and pleasing her and using her in every desperate way I want and I sit down on the seat and dig my fingernails into my knees.

Come on old man. You know that's not the game. She wants to play with you and it's your move. Take a deep breath.

Besides, what if the doctor walked out and saw you plowing his receptionist on the floor? That harvest would come in bitter.

She sits down at her desk and looks back at me. Smirking. One eyebrow raised. Teasing. Tormenting.

I need to fuck her. Like a drowning man needs to breathe. I haven't felt like this since I was a teenager. Was it even like this then?

Okay focus, old man. You touched her with your cock, and then she touched you with her pussy. Maybe it's like a kiss? A touch and go? Leave them wanting more?

I wish I knew what she wants from me, but if nothing else I do have another idea to tease her.

I look down at my own cock. My shaft still glistens with her juices in a wet patch that goes nowhere near the head. I look back up at her and do my best to cock an eyebrow. Don't quite get it right.

I put one finger on the shaft of my cock and side it up, gathering the wetness as I go. I hold it up in response to her questioning look so that she can see it shine in the light, then I put it in my mouth and suck on it, closing my eyes and moaning with an enjoyment that's only partly exaggerated; I've always loved the taste of a woman's pussy.

I open my eyes again, and I'm pleased to see that it's having an impact. She's biting her lip, and her hand is fidgeting in her lap. It looks like when she took her panties off, but I suspect she's trying to get something else off right now, and with only two fingers.

I grin, I'm pretty sure I just took the lead in the game.

I do it again, picking up another stripe of wetness and popping it into my mouth, and again and again until it's all gone.

I hear her sigh. The good kind of sigh.

I open my eyes and the two of us look at each other. The air is pregnant with possibility. I wish I knew how to make the delivery.

Dear God, please help me figure out what this woman wants.

She glances left and right, like she's weighing things on a scale. Then she takes something out of a draw and puts it on the desk.

I look at the shiny item, and understanding finally clicks into place.

... A condom in a foil wrapped packet.

... Obvious in hindsight.

I feel something rising up in my chest, a soaring sensation. I grin, and when that doesn't feel like enough, I start laughing.

She starts laughing too.

We laugh together, and she pushes her chair back, making room for me behind the desk, if I want to be there.

Well I do, and I don't need telling twice.

I walk towards her with big confident strides, my cock out and bouncing.

She bites her lip and drinks me in with her eyes. Her hands are twitching and she looks as wild as I feel.

The part of me that still thinks I'm 20 almost ruins everything by attempting a jump over the desk, but I thankfully overrule that part and spring around it instead.

I want to throw myself at her. I want to collide with her. I want her to feel the tension she built up

She opens her arms and legs for me. Ready to accept me.

Suddenly there's a knocking on the door, and a shill voice sounds.

"Hey are you open? I thought you weren't open today? I need a walk in."

"Shit" says the receptionist. She signals with her hands. "Stay here, let me deal with this."

It's the first words anyone's said to me today. I feel like a caveman thrust out into the snow on the word of the chief. A moment ago, life was filled with warmth and joy, and now I'm disorientated, and cold.

She hurries to the door and starts talking to the person there. Opening the door only a crack and telling him that they're not open. That she just came in to do some paperwork.

Meanwhile I'm putting things together. She was the one who called me and told me that I needed to come in for a follow up. She was the one who told me the only free slot was earlier than I thought the office opened, and on a day when I thought it was closed. She was the one driving this entire game, and if the doctor is actually in this office then she was completely unconcerned about him hearing her when I was eating her out.

She closes the door and comes back into the room. She glances at me and then looks down at the carpet. Ashamed.

The smirk has vanished, leaving nothing but a shamefaced young woman who tried to set something up and had it all fall apart right at the end..

I feel my heart move for her. Why did you pick me, my dear? Maybe that's not for me to understand right now, but please believe that I'm thankful. For the game and the teasing and the arousal, but most of all for your effort in arranging this. I can't tell you how many times I failed to arrange things I hoped my wife would like.

I walk up to her, and I see the change in her body as I approach. The tension in her shoulders building, her whole stance turning inwards.

I take her face in my hands and gently tilt it upwards, letting her see my face. Letting her see that I'm not angry, that I understand better than anyone.

I close my eyes and bring my lips down to hers but I stop before touching them. I leave a tantalising space between them, a little gap where we breathe the same air and our outbreaths tickle each other's faces.

Then I just wait. Close the distance or walk away, I leave the choice to her.

There is a very long moment. Then I feel her move back. My heart breaks a little, even as I can't deny her right to do so.

Then she collides with me as she throws herself into my arms and her lips meet mine and our tongues meet and slide over each other and our bodies rub together as our hands roam each other's bodies and all is light and heat and excitement.

We break for a moment to gasp for air. She takes a step back and eagerly grabs for my cock, but I catch her wrist.

She looks at me in confusion, and I grin back. I hope you don't mind, my dear, but now that I understand the game, I'd like to make a few moves of my own.

I slowly unbutton my shirt and slip out of it, leaving her holding it as I walk back towards her desk. I don't look back but I grin when I hear her gasp, because I know she's just discovered that I left the condom in the breast pocket.

I recline in her chair, put my feet up on her desk, and start stroking my cock. Positioning myself so that she can see what I'm doing, but not any of the action.

I let my mind wander as I stroke, I think of her teasing smirk, and her delicious body, and what I'm going to do to her when she joins me here. I have confidence she will, the same way I have confidence that the sun will rise tomorrow, and after a few seconds I turn out to be right.

I hear her approaching and then I feel her arms wrap around me. Her chin rests on my shoulder as she enjoys the show. I feel her breasts press against my back and I know she took the time to undress. We're both naked. Is that your tease my dear? Are you going to make me turn to see you?

I'll gladly do so. I spin the chair around and capture one of her nipples with my mouth. She gasps and grabs my cock again, and this time I don't stop her.

I let her stroke my cock while I suck her nipples, but then notice a curious sensation on the downstroke. I look down and realise that she's skillfully rolled the condom onto my cock. I look up to see her grinning like she got away with something. Cutie.

I grab her hips and she climbs on top of me, the chair groaning with our combined weight. She moves to impale herself on my cock, but I stop her with one finger.

The early morning light is still streaming through the window. It's still quiet, but the city is waking up. I don't want to take the risk that someone will see us but just as surely as I knew she'd come to me, and as surely as I know we both want this, I'm sure that the doctor's office is empty.

I look at it and look back at her, this time I manage to cock my eyebrow. She giggles and offers me her hand.

I slide my hand into hers and I have to stop for a moment as the feeling hits me. It's not like electricity to the heart this time, it's more like being plugged in. Like coming alive.

I look at her and even in my own head I can't find the words. I just smile.

She smiles back and I feel that she understands.

Hand in hand, we walk into the office and shut the door behind us.