Fantasies at Work Ch. 04

BEEP BEEP BEEP.

Grumbling, I roll over to snooze the alarm on my phone. I try to fall back asleep to return to the dream I was having: My manager bending me over a desk and fucking me. I can still feel his hands holding my hips. But as I slowly awaken, the sensation fades. I will have to wait for my dreams tonight to get back into his pants. My crotch is aching and I know I can't go to work without dealing with this situation first. I won't be able to focus on anything except all the things I want to do to my coworkers. I brush my fingers over my wettening underwear and shiver when the fabric tickles my sensitive clit. I pretend my hand is his and tease around the edges of my underwear, wishing he would touch me like this. I lightly scratch up my thigh and let out a moan.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Fuck. I have to get up, I'm already running behind. I get out of bed and shuffle to the bathroom. In the shower I rub my clit but can't find any release. I finish my shower and rush out the door, already late for work.

My normal parking spot has been taken by a black truck so I circle the lot to find an opening. With my laptop bag, purse, and water bottle in tow I rush across the parking lot and into the building. As I start putting everything down on my desk I hear someone speak. "Ready?"

I turn to see my manager's piercing blue eyes smiling at me. The slickness between my thighs tells me I'm ready for something, but I'm not sure what he's talking about. When I don't respond right away he says, "We're training today?" Asking if I remembered. I had forgotten, distracted yet again by the aching need growing in my stomach.

Before the silence becomes too long again I nod my agreement. "We're training today," I repeat back. He motions for me to move over to his desk so I can take notes on what he is doing. I drop the rest of my things onto my desk and stand up to walk over to him as he turns back to his computer. I can't stop staring at his biceps flexing under his shirt with every motion. God, this man is gorgeous. 'Walk over to him.' I have to make my feet move. I'm grateful he can't see the blush creeping onto my cheeks.

I try to focus on anything other than his arms as I make my way to his desk. His sandy hair is curly and thick, perfectly manicured on his head. His broad shoulders fill out his chair, his torso taller than the chair's back. This isn't helping, I chastise. But I can't help but stare. I have dreamt of his strong arms picking me up, throwing me over a desk, and having his way with me. Staring is the least I can do.

I come up to his desk and he turns to smile at me again. My heart is racing. His eyes are the same light blue as his shirt and his beard is filling in. I resist the urge to push my fingers through it to feel how thick it is. "Did you want to bring your chair over?" I hadn't thought that far ahead. I was only concerned with getting close to him. But to save myself the embarrassment, I shake my head and smile back at him. I hold my pen and paper in hand and look at his computer screen, indicating I am ready to learn. "Okay, let's get started."

After thirty minutes of standing and taking notes, I start to regret not going back for my chair. My manager notices how I keep shifting my weight from one leg to the other. He pauses his lecture and looks up at me. I finish the sentence I was jotting down and look back at him. He smirks; my insides clench. He doesn't break eye contact but gestures to my lack of seat, his smirk changes into a full smile and I can't help but giggle. "Did you want to sit down?"

My smile falters. The closest seat is twenty feet away and currently in use. His smirk returns and his eyes have gone from genial to daring. He inches his chair away from his desk and asks again "Did you want to sit down?" Before I can rationalize how bad an idea this is, his hand takes my waist and brings me closer. The scent of his most recent woodworking project lingers on his skin, the smell intoxicatingly masculine. When I don't move away from his grasp, he takes the opportunity to pull me onto him. My thighs fully cover his but he doesn't seem to mind. I keep my feet on the floor so I don't put all my weight onto him. His hand hasn't left my waist and I can feel myself growing wet at the closeness. He moves his arm to wrap fully around my waist and pulls me back into him. I feel his sturdy chest against my back and I want to sigh into him and relax here forever. But I don't allow myself to relax, not wanting to give into my feelings.

He releases me from his touch and moves to grab the mouse. Feeling every muscle move under me is so much better than watching them move under his shirt. There is no way I am learning anything while sitting here in his lap. I try not to move too much, afraid of my dress riding up. It's bad enough I can tell I am soaking through my underwear; I don't need him feeling it too. As soon as the thought entered my mind, I felt him. It could be the pocket knife he always carries with him, but I would have felt that when I sat down.

No, this is him, poking into my back. I can't help but shift my weight, trying not to draw attention to him growing behind me. I can't seem to reposition myself in a way where I don't feel him, so I settle back down, accepting the compliment. I didn't notice that he had stopped moving until I sat still. His unsteady breath is hot on my neck. I lean back to be closer to his face and I feel his lips lightly dance along my neck. My insides grow hot and I need to feel more of him. I take his hand from the mouse and use it to push my dress up my thigh. He grows again with the movement and I slowly rub my ass into him, feeling his girth. His hand squeezes my leg as he lets out a deep groan. The encouragement makes me lose my breath and I am lightheaded. His free hand moves my hair fully off my neck and his mouth is on me. I lean my head to the side, giving him as much of my skin as I can. He kisses and nips at my neck, his pelvis now in time with my own. I feel both him grow harder and myself grow wetter with every pulse.

His hand creeps higher up my thigh and reaches my underwear; I gasp at the wanted intrusion and push his wrist up to encourage him on. Instead he pushes me to stand. Confused, I turn to see him unzipping and pulling his pants down; what I've been craving is bulging in his boxers. He spins me around before I can see my prize. He takes another beat, then pushes my dress up my thighs and slides my underwear to the side. His hands on my waist guide me back into his lap.

A soft, low growl escapes his mouth as I feel the head of his penis push against me, requesting entrance. I slowly lower myself onto him, rolling my hips to let him in, inch by inch. Our breaths come together as I settle back onto his lap, his length filling me. I test his size by circling my hips, earning myself a moan of approval. I turn my head to see his eyes closed, a smile on his lips in pure ecstasy. I circle my hips faster, getting used to his size. His eyes flutter but before I let them open I lean over to kiss him. He releases the arms of the chair and greedily takes my hair and neck in his hands to pull my mouth closer. I taste his tongue against my own and a new wave of lust rushes through me.

He nips at my bottom lip and trails his mouth down my jaw and onto my neck. As he bites, kisses, and sucks on any part of me he can, I face the computer and begin moving along his length. Only a couple of inches at a time, still getting used to how full he makes me feel. I feel his hands on my hips as he increases my rhythm, hitching my breath. I steal a glance back at him, his eyes dark with lust and staring at my ass as he bounces it on himself. I arch my back to accentuate my curves more; I have never felt this gorgeous before.

His hand leaves my waist to find a nipple, pulling me to his chest where he can continue his nipping and kissing of my neck and shoulders. "You are so perfect; I'm already close." He breathes into the hair at the nape of my neck. "Where do you want me to finish?" In response, I only grind myself onto him more, filling me completely. He lets out a growly moan and moves his fingers from my breast to my clit. I immediately pick up the pace of riding him, ecstasy closing in. As I feel him pulse inside of me, I come on his hand.

A whimper escapes my lips. "Megan?" He startles me and laughs, "Did you want to sit down?" I'm still standing with my notepad and pen, feeling exposed despite being fully dressed. I can feel the heat of blush in my cheeks and the wetness soaking through my underwear. When I continue to stare at him, trying to come out of my fantastical stupor, he continues, "I can get your chair for you if you want."

I regain enough composure to respond, "That would be great." His smile doesn't dim as he gets up. "Thank you," I absent-mindedly call after him.