I swear, workdays drag on forever, but today? Today was different. I’m sitting at my desk, fingers flying over the keyboard, when François leans over from his cubicle next door. He’s got that smirk, you know? The one that says he’s up to no good. « Hey, need a break? » he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. Smells like coffee and that musky cologne he wears. My heart skips. We’ve been flirting for weeks—stolen glances, texts after hours—but nothing real. Yet.
I glance around the open office. Everyone’s buried in screens. « What kind of break? » I murmur back, feeling that tingle already between my thighs. He nods toward the supply closet down the hall. « Five minutes. Come on. » Fuck it. I grab a folder as cover and slip away. The door clicks shut behind us, dim light from a single bulb. Shelves crammed with paper reams, that stale paper-and-ink smell mixed with his scent.
He doesn’t waste time. Pins me against the door, mouth crashing into mine. Rough, hungry kiss—tongues sliding, tasting his mint gum and the faint bitterness of lunch. His hands everywhere: up my skirt, gripping my ass through lace panties. « God, I’ve wanted this, » he growls, voice low and gravelly. I moan into his mouth, nipples hardening against my blouse. « Me too. Fuck the reports. »
He yanks my panties down—cool air hits my wet pussy, making me shiver. Fingers dive in, two at once, curling just right. Squishy sounds echo softly, my juices coating him. « So fucking soaked, » he breathes, thumb circling my clit. Swirls of pleasure shoot up my spine. I grab his belt, fumbling—zipper down, his cock springs free. Thick, veiny, pre-cum beading at the tip. Smells salty, masculine. I stroke it, feeling it throb hot in my palm.
« Turn around, » he says, spinning me. Face against the door, ass out. Skirt hiked up, panties at my ankles. He rubs his cockhead along my slit—teasing, slick. « You want it? » « Yes, François, please—fuck me. » He thrusts in, one hard push. Stretches me wide, filling every inch. I gasp, biting my lip to stay quiet. That burn-pleasure mix, his balls slapping my thighs already.
He pounds steady—deep, rhythmic. Clap-clap-clap against my skin, mixed with my whimpers. « Your pussy’s gripping me so tight, » he grunts, hand fisting my hair. Pulls my head back, other hand pinching my nipple through fabric. Sharp zing straight to my core. I push back, grinding, clit throbbing against nothing. Sweat beads on my neck, office AC humming faintly outside.
« Faster, » I beg, voice husky. He obliges—hips slamming, cock hitting that spot inside. Gush of wetness trickles down my thigh. His free hand slips around, fingers rubbing my clit furiously. Circles, pinches. Pressure builds, coiling tight. « I’m gonna come, » I hiss. « Do it. Milk my cock. » Stars burst—orgasm crashes, pussy clenching, pulsing around him. I stifle a cry, legs shaking.
He doesn’t stop. Pulls out sudden—wet pop—spins me again. « On your knees. » I drop, mouth watering. His cock glistens with my cream, shiny and hard. I suck him deep—salty tang of my pussy on him, musky. Bobbing, tongue swirling the ridge. He groans, hands in my hair. « Fuck, your mouth… » Thrusts shallow, hitting my throat. Gagging a bit, spit dripping.
« Stand up—bend over the shelf. » I do, ass high. He slams back in from behind—doggy against the boxes. Brutal pace now, grunting with each thrust. Paper rustles under us. His fingers dig into my hips, bruising sweet. « Gonna fill you, » he pants. « Yes—come inside. » One last deep shove—he swells, hot spurts flooding me. Pulsing ropes, dripping out as he stays buried.
We pant, sticky and spent. He pulls out—cum leaks down my leg, warm and thick. Quick kisses, adjusting clothes. « That was insane, » I whisper, tasting him still on my lips. « Round two tonight? » he grins. We slip out separately, back to desks like nothing. But my pussy’s sore, throbbing reminder. Best. Break. Ever.
(Word count: 628)