I remember it was a Tuesday, 2:35. So far so good: our colleagues haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary – a small miracle given the knowing grin you’ve been failing to hide all day and the change in background scenery from where you usually have your remote meetings.
We were still new, and it wasn’t something we wanted the office to gossip about. This idea to both WFH from mine for the first time and take the afternoon off was a compromise to our lust, we’d both rather spend the day with our hands all over each other. And so far it had been a good day.
Frequent coffee breaks in my kitchen have been a refuge. Where tight hugs relax into a warmer embraces. Comforting and restoring. rocking and nuzzling. Each time parting with glances of excited anticipation with a smirk or a lip bite leaving a fuzzy feeling. Some small affection we could steal from our work day, like thieves, before we’re noticed missing. But also risky: with each opportunity for closeness, for sensual touches, some of the warm embraces linger. Some breaks overrun.
It’s 2:40. I finished work a little earlier than you and sneak upstairs to peer round your door. The moment your team member steps away from skype it seems to me you go back to thinking about our warm up sessions. I catch you running a finger across your neck and lips, perhaps recounting the movement of my hands. The feeling of my touch all over your body during the last break.
..how one hug started innocently enough before my breath in the furrow of your neck set you squirming. Me quietly laughing at your reaction only tickles you more with the exhales.
Calming my breathing, you unlocked your ear from your shoulder. I got my lips in close. Skimming them lightly up your neck towards your ear, leaving a trail of almost imaginary kisses. Simultaneously drawing a convoy of 8 fingers up your spine, between your shoulder blades, and each in turn stroking the back of your neck to the hair line.
Our lips traced across cheeks as we turn our heads to meet. My right hand slides round to rest lightly on the front of your neck and collarbone. My left index and thumb cup the side of your face, the other three scratch satisfyingly on your scalp. You feel held. Our bodies together, our lips tantalisingly close. Taking turns to share the same shakey breath, eyes locking then scanning each other’s mouths as we held in that electric moment before the storm breaks.
Your sigh punctuated our passionate kissing, shifting your weight downwards and forwards from your perch on the kitchen surface. I rocked my pelvis up to meet you with complimentary pressure. Your hands roaming freely over my back and arms, clasping, claiming whatever you please. While my hands roamed also, up and down your body as we work into a heavy dry humping rhythm against the counter top.
You were so lost in your memory you didn’t notice me step into the room. You told me later that you were remembering when I switched to using my hand on you, and that’s why you were swinging in the swivel chair while waiting for your team member to come back, knocking your knees together as you did Şerifali Escort as a way to let the excited energy escape. Thinking how good the pressure felt. How as you couldn’t help bucking your hips as my hand continued its own movements unhindered; or used your motion to apply pressure in the opposite direction. How my fingers felt inside you, moving swiftly back and forth so that you had to plant yourself more firmly on the counter top, your knuckles whitening as your cheeks flushed redder, before my fingers emerged to messily rub your own wetness into your clit. It was hard to stop that work break. But thinking about what would have happened if we didn’t stop at that moment makes you blush and rub your feet together.
Remembering the exasperated breathing and frustrated patience for our planned session later was starting to make you feel wet all over again as I would soon find out. It is almost as hard to have to stop daydreaming about it now as your colleagues’ voice returns to skype and rudely pulls you from your stupor.
Its 2:45, just this convo to wrap up and clarify the points of the meeting so you can clock off at the appointed 3pm. You can’t wait.
It’s 2:50. Nothing could come in so late to stop you now. “Just one more thing while you’re here” she asks. At exactly that moment, two hands seem to materialise between your legs, sensually stroking your inner thighs. You jump. I jump.
One of your knees and the back of my head make a definitely audible knock on the underside of the desk. You have no fucking idea when I got there, but right now you’ve got to cough awkwardly and pretend you were just readjusting naturally, and somehow get away with it.
In shocked excitement, you toy with my access as you swing your legs together. But with you wriggling in your seat as my hands wander closer, and rocking yourself forward with a parting of your legs to allow me to rub you directly, I can tell that the days frustrations have added up to near boiling point. It’s enjoyable to watch you rather expertly confine all your movement to your lower half to not give yourself away.
It’s 2:55. It’s been at least 7 ‘one more things’ by now, surely. Each one you answered with a “mhmmm” or quick “yep” or a last resort of “let’s decide tomorrow”. You sort of think that you should feel bad. But right now you are in heat, aching and soaking wet with my fingers running amok under the table. The sheer naughtiness turns you on even more.
I tentatively reach fingertips over the elastic of your underwear to see if I can take them off. You help by masterfully manoeuvring them off while keeping your upper body still. The blood is rushing from your brain to your groin, luckily you don’t need more than a few mumbled lines before you can sign off and hang up — almost not quick enough before my warm mouth finds a home on your clit, sucking in just slightly and lapping at it in one slow lick. You let out a sharp gasp followed by a deep moan as you pleasantly suffer that before pushing the chair back away from the desk and calling me a bastard.
It’s party time. I follow you out from under İstanbul Escort the desk, remain on my knees and remove my shirt, then sidle up between your legs to silence your mock berating with kisses. You throw your arms around my neck and pull me in close. breaking our kisses to exhale forcefully as my fingers glide, barely touching, up your inner thighs. You gasp as two fingers slide effortlessly inside you. Pulling away I give you the filthiest fucking look and hold it as I lower myself between your legs — one you place up on the desk, the other over my shoulder — as I bury my face and devour you. You throw your head back and one arm over the top of the chair, while with the other runs between the back of my head and neck as you grind in concert with my fingers and licking.
Ive gone down on you before but this was the quickest you came. The horniness of the day now rolling down my chin and fingers. The way I would start each stroke with a lick from bottom to top across your clit and culminate with a pursing of my lips as the tongue withdrew, to leave a pressured kiss upon it, sucking lightly and providing stimulation from above and below as they drew in, making an exaggerated supping sound as it happens.
Standing up I look down at you. Despite trying to catch your breath your eyes are still hungry. And they wander. Down. You can see I’m ready and straining to get out. I give you a hand up from the chair and we’re flying down the hall to the bedroom, collapsing together with a bounce and we hit the mattress.
A writhing wriggling tangle of arms and legs and tongues ferreting all over. Rolling and clambering and wrestling as we vie to somehow hold more than two handfuls of each other.
Some combined effort has my trousers and our tops off, our whole bare skin finally touching, chests pressed together – firm and soft – as we roll and I end up on top.
“Fuck me. I want you insiii—“
The rest of the sentence is redundant. Your head cranes back, heels and palms press outwards, rucking the bedsheets. Your back arches upwards, as if pulled by a string from your solar plexus, as you take a sharp in-breath, pleasure travels down the spine into the top of your hips as you moan on the exhale. As that wave pivots the bottom of the hips up, I’m withdrawing that first exquisite stroke to cue up the second one.
It’s not long before we’ve worked up into a furious banging. Still holding close, lying in the middle of the bed, my hips slam back and forth while i hold you tightly embraced, while your hands are scrambling and clutching and scratching and pulling at me as we pant harder over our shoulders. I pull out to stand beside the bed. As you lift your weight onto your feet and hands to begin shuffling over to me, I take you by your upper thighs and hips and pull you suddenly to the edge of the bed, giving an excited startle as you miss a breath.
Leaning in for a kiss while holding your legs up I reenter you and a let out long pleasing hum as I slide back into you, warm and gripping. From this position I can thrust hard or take measured inching strokes to tease with your Ümraniye Escort desperation to have me inside, which drives you wild. Holding one of your legs over my shoulder and the corresponding arm pulling that leg into to my thrusts, so you’re steady and there’s a firm and satisfying shuddering as we come together. The other hand is more free – to hold your other leg back, or roam over your body. Up from your legs, over your stomach, grabbing a boob on the way past to your neck. Caressing at first, then gripping – steadily tightening – while I make eye contact to gauge the right level of sense of danger since you introduced me to choking at your request, all while still working a semi-fast but sustainable heavy fucking.
I work a rhythm that still has many fpm (fucks per minute), but avoids jolting too much. No longer choking, I anchor my fingers and top of the palm against your
pubis, and begin rubbing your clit with my thumb. Running it back up to your mouth to wet it, it always feels incredible to me when you suck on it, your professional tongue rippling like rolling waves, or circling the tip gets me so turned on, as I imagine my cock in its place. I let out a “fuck” and tell you how good that feels with a nodding head.
When you release it, I return to your clit to use circles or up and down strokes depending on the rotation and rocking of your hips. I finally find groove that feels satisfying all round – I can keep cemented to your clit through your bucking and thrashing and pushing back; the firm hold of you by your leg and hips allows me to thrust in deep and upwards with steady consistent strokes and a satisfying slap. That’s if you can hear it over your moans, growing now to cries. Your hair tussled by your own movements. Head back but arms outstretched, pushing against me, or clutching at sheets or duvets or whatever the fuck.
Your skin is flush. Your back arched and all your core movement pushing down through
your hips. I pick up the pace again, responding to your beautiful writhing body on the sheets showing a mounting pleasure. If in the franticness of reaching the peak you need to replace my hand then I can go back to stroking, choking and caressing your neck, pulling you in harder as we both tirelessly stretch for the end.
The mattress caves and then rebounds you back into my downwards thrust. You close your eyes. Furrow your brow. The moans have died away to silence now, as you hold your breath and scrunch your face and your clit keeps getting rubbed and my dick keeps pounding in and out. A breathless still moment yet full of movement. Your body shudders. You quake. A quiver travels up your spine. You tremble as warming waves travel throughout your body and you release your held breath as you cum hard. Letting out a cry as you spasm and shake
on the bed. Your knees coming together and your pussy squeezing me so tight that I’m thankful to get that last few strokes in for your pleasure before I have to pull out, shooting trails of sticky white cum all over your clit, hand and stomach after I’ve barely got my hand to it.
We give each other satisfied grins, hair stuck with sweat and breathing uneven. We manoeuvre your leg so I can lay down beside you and cuddle your heavenly skin as we come round from the high. The time is?:?? now, who cares. We murmur an agreement to work from home together more often.