6:12 in the morning. The alarm echoes through the bedroom as the sun pushes its way through the clouds. I get up almost immediately, I know the day will be long. I need coffee to wake my senses. The ritual of making it in the kitchen every morning is mostly there to wake me through the automatic motions from warming the milk to the first sip.
I light a cigarette and glance through all the notifications on my phone screen, carelessly left and forgotten from the night before. Emails, news, messages from the girls’ chat, apps reminding me to finish an order. Before all the information comes crashing in, I open the balcony door to let in the fresh morning air. The coolness wakes me even faster, leaving my skin slightly tingling. I feel the liveliness outside. I hear the monotonous sounds of cars passing nearby, birds flying around the buildings. A normal weekday morning, still too early before the chaos wraps itself around the city.
I skim through everything quickly, mentally sorting out the tasks for the day and heading to the bathroom. My morning routine is finished before I realise it’s already seven thirty and I need to hurry. For the first time in quite a while, I know exactly what I’ll wear. A dark green short dress, hugging my body, an oversized blazer, boots. I leave my hair down, spilling over my shoulders. A bit of discreet makeup. At last I take one final look at the mirror and grab my bag, nervously checking if everything is inside.
The way to the office passes in a blur of thoughts, a few sent emails, and one slow, creeping memory of what really happened in the meeting room with the man who so shamelessly scheduled it as if it were just “Monday, we need to go over the budget,” when in truth it was “It’s Monday, and I want you right there on the table in front of me while I take my time touching you, testing you, and seeing exactly how far you’ll go.” I admit that ever since that carefully crafted scene, I can no longer look at meeting room tables normally. Neither can he. It’s incredible how, with the right person, any place can become erotic. With him, I would book a room even in hell - if such a place actually exists.
The office is still quiet because I arrived earlier than usual. I go to the break room to pour myself some water when I notice him passing by. Dark blazer, shirt, jeans. He must have an important meeting today. In the corridor there’s a trace of his perfume that instantly brings back memories. Moments when the fragrance is blended with his skin scent, creating that euphoric note embedded somewhere in my brain, signaling he’s here.
My thoughts are interrupted by a message notification.
My Sunshine is here early. Am I missing something?
I smile like an idiot at the screen and leave the room quickly. He can’t see me from here, so I walk towards my desk to leave the water and then pay him a visit. But before that, I decide my visit should be memorable. I discreetly slip off my lace panties and drop them into my bag. I take my phone, the folder with documents I need to scan, and head off.
When I reach his room, he’s already working. His notebook is open, the screen filled with a presentation, and he’s reading something on his phone before setting it aside. I pause for a moment and watch him. Lost in routine, sitting calmly, writing something down.
He turns and fixes his gaze on me. I smile slightly and walk towards him.
“Are you spying on me?” he shoots the question with a faint smile.
“Good morning” I reply as I approach his desk. I see his eyes glance at my thighs, then travel up my body to my face. I lean lightly against the desk facing him, right beside him. Even too close. I hear the sound of people arriving in the corridor, but I don’t move. Neither does he. Instead, he holds a piercing gaze that makes my breath falter slightly.
“Good morning, Sunshine. Why are you here so early?” he asks without moving his intense blue eyes.
“I have quite a lot to do today.” I place my folder and phone on his desk, lifting myself slightly to sit on the desk so the hem of my dress rises just enough to reveal a little more of my thighs than necessary. I cross my legs, the edge of the dress pressing into my skin. His body gives him away. I see him tense and exhale quickly.
“And you decided that one of your tasks was visiting me before I walk into an important meeting?” His voice is even but warm. I can still walk the line.
People are arriving at their desks now, but not near his room. More sounds fill the floor. Laughter, the coffee machine.
“I think you’re lacking motivation today.” I reply with a smile, picking up his notebook to read what he wrote a minute ago.
“Have you ever heard the term personal space?” His voice remains normal, measured, and although he tries to sound corrective, right now I know the last thing he wants is to correct my behaviour. I look at him over the notebook, which I’m not actually reading, then let it slip from my hands.
“Sorry,” I say, unable to suppress the quiet laugh rising in me.
His lips form a smile and he bends down to pick up what I dropped, dangerously close to my legs. Instinctively he glances at them, and I spread them slightly more than necessary while uncrossing them. I watch his reaction, feeling my pulse quicken, knowing I’m making reckless hints in his workplace just before an important meeting.
Sunshine stands in front of me, staging a silly little scene and deliberately dropping my notebook so I’ll bend down and see that she’s not wearing any underwear. Friday, 8:20 in the morning, talking to me about motivation.
Right at this moment she deserves to be bent over my desk and spanked while I tell her exactly how I’m going to fuck her. On Monday she was timid and more measured, almost intoxicated by the orgasm I brought her to in the meeting room. But today I see a different woman. One that is playful and curious about how far she can push me in this place.
God, how I want to fuck her on my desk right now.
I smile and watch her close her legs again once she’s sure I’ve seen what I needed to see.
“In fifteen minutes, I’m going into a meeting. I don’t know exactly how long it will last. Keep your phone close.” I give her my instructions as I stand up in front of her, looking straight into her eyes. Close enough for her to feel my hard cock as I casually press it against her knee while sliding my hand gently along the bare skin of her thigh. I feel her breath catch the moment my hand reaches the inner part, centimetres away from her pussy. I try to hold back from touching her, as difficult as that is.
“I promise I won’t abandon my phone.” she replies with a light sigh. “I think you’re motivated enough for the day.” She adds with a soft laugh, almost childlike, as if she has managed to execute her wicked plan.
I lower my head to her ear, squeezing her thigh slightly and breathing in her scent.
“I think you’re so wet right now you wouldn’t last even a minute of what I want to do to you.” I whisper, letting the words settle in her mind, where scenes will form that will keep her wet for a long time.
“You’re right. That’s why I’ll leave you to that.”
I feel her breath against my neck and it only makes me throb harder. Then her lips touch the skin on my neck softly for a second. My pulse is already too high, my hands wanting to grab her so she can’t escape. I exhale heavily.
Reality doesn’t allow it. Not here, not now.
I step back from her, and she quickly slides off my desk, gathering the folder and the phone in her hands.
“You’re The Man, you know that, right?”
She winks at me and disappears through the door before I can say anything.
I almost run back to my desk without even having a reason for doing so. I can hear my pulse racing, I’m ready to laugh out loud, but inside I feel euphoric. The sweet dark satisfaction of leaving a man aroused so early in the day and so helpless because of the place and the obligations he can’t miss. I know I will pay for this. In fact, I already am, because he is right. I am wet, and his words have already erased everything else from my mind, illustrating scenes that could very soon happen.
I leave the things in my hands on the desk and sit down in my chair, overwhelmed by everything that just happened.
I know he likes it when I provoke him and tease his mind. But I still don’t know how far I can push him. A little boldness when it’s just the two of us is fine. But if there is someone else? The vibration of my phone pulls me out of my thoughts again.
I stare at the screen and wonder if he is in the same meeting room. I won’t check. But secretly I hope he is there, remembering everything he did to my body. Everything he has been doing to my mind since our first conversation.
I leave my phone and go back to my workday.
It is almost lunch when I finish most of my tasks for the day. I know it’s better to focus on work, but from time to time I check my phone. Three hours have passed, which means his meeting should be ending soon or at least there should be a short break. There are no messages yet. I am tempted to check if he has returned to his room, but I continue writing the report that seems to have no end.
A vibration. My phone screen lights up.
You have 5 minutes to get to the upper floor. The bathroom.
What do you do when you are in the middle of a stupid report and the man you desire gives you quick instructions? You stand up, take your phone, walk past your colleagues quickly as if you have the most important task right now, and disappear from their sight. Then you rush up the stairs, because you are an idiot wearing heeled boots instead of taking the elevator and saving yourself the effort, and you reach the almost empty corridor, following the directions he gave you. And you walk into that bathroom.
Opening the door, I see him leaning lightly against the counter by the sinks. He lifts his head and looks at me with his deep blue eyes, which doesn’t help me calm down at all. His expression is stern, almost irritated.
“Come.” The word echoes in the almost empty space, and my legs take uneven, slow steps, obeying. I see my reflection in the mirrors on the side as I walk, as if the moment is a product of my imagination. But I am already in front of him and I feel his hands, strong and quick, pulling me toward his body. I leave my phone aside without looking at anything else but him.
“We don’t have more than 10 minutes.”
I feel his body, tense, the heat it gives off even through the clothes, as if something is burning inside. What I want will take more than the time I have with him now. But damn it, every second is more than nothing. Held by his hands, already comfortably placed slightly under my waist, and pressed close enough, I can feel how aroused he is. His cock is hard, tightly pressed by the denim. I can read his desire from the way he holds me, from his eyes with that playful spark, from his posture, slightly tense because of where we are and what is inevitable when we are next to each other. He watches my reaction as if studying me, looking for answers to questions he hasn’t asked. He is waiting for my signal to continue or stop, while the clock ticks and he knows our time is limited. At least for now.
I run my hands over his chest until I reach his shoulders. My fingers touch the back of his neck with gentle, almost light movements.
“Stay like that,” I say, almost whispering, looking him in the eyes. I tilt my head slowly and deliberately toward the part of his neck that is visible. I inhale his scent while one of my hands moves down from his shoulder to the button of his shirt to free it and give me more space. I unbutton it and hear him exhale more strongly than usual. Second button, then third. My lips find the skin of his neck and place a soft, slow kiss. Then another. His hands slowly move lower toward my ass, so his fingers trace my lines and his palm presses, trying to pull me even closer. When my tongue slowly circles and my mouth gently sucks his skin, his hands instinctively tighten. I continue kissing him, so soft and delicate, and I feel his body lean toward me, while his fingers suddenly catch the hem of my dress and pull it up.
I shiver at the lack of fabric. I stand half naked in his hands in the most inappropriate place, without enough time. Without wanting to resist his actions.
“Someone could walk in here.” His voice, reminding of the circumstances, offers the option to stop, while his body and hands continue insistently.
“Hard for you to wait, isn’t it?” I reply, knowing the answer. I know he likes it. I know the thrill that someone might witness our behaviour at this exact moment drives him crazy, but at the same time he cannot ignore that I have been without underwear since morning, standing in front of him, vulnerable to his words and his touch, and terribly aroused. The contrast irritates him and he has to resolve the problem. After all, he is the man who solves problems. And I am a big problem.
“Fuck it” he says, and with one quick movement he switches our positions so I end up leaning against the counter and he is fully in front of me. Trapped. There is no way to escape, and I don’t want to. At all.
He looks at me straight in the eyes. His face tries not to show emotion, and I desperately look for it as to understand what comes next. I feel his fingers between my legs and close my eyes.
A sigh escapes her uncontrollably, and my fingers, covered with her arousal, press the final button. I nervously unbutton my belt, then my jeans. I need to feel her. I don’t care if someone is waiting for me. I can skip the second part of the meeting. It has been on for hours, and I spend those same hours trying not to think about her walking around without panties, while carrying folders through the corridors. I have probably fucked her in my mind at least ten times by now. And the fact that she is thinking about the same while working doesn’t help either. I left her in silence on purpose. She just doesn’t know it.
I pull out my cock, already throbbing, while with my other hand I continue teasing her.
“You’re drenched, Sunshine,” I say, smiling. Her eyes are open, staring at me. That look makes me want to do all kinds of beautiful, terrible things to her. I remove my hand to move even closer. Her lips tremble as if to say something, but she stays silent.
“Do you want to tell me something? Talk to me.” I urge her, rubbing my cock against her wetness, and she opens her mouth only to moan. I love watching how she reacts to my touch and to my words. She looks intoxicated, her pupils slightly dilated, eyelids heavy, lips almost open. In these moments her mind shuts off everything else and it’s just the two of us.
With one hand I lift her leg so she wraps it around me and opens for me. I don’t wait, I just push into her completely and stay inside. I lower my head and kiss her insistently. Her lips respond, letting me in. And then I feel how she tightens around me. I want her to spill over me when I hear her muffled moan into my mouth. The sound adds the final drop. And the line is crossed.
With deep thrusts I start fucking her. Fast and intense, the way she drives me insane. I don’t pull my lips away from hers, not because I don’t need air, but because I can’t stop. With every movement she becomes more slippery and tighter, almost close to falling apart around me. It’s not easy to hold back from spilling inside her sooner than expected. But the desire to feel her desperately clinging to me when she comes keeps me going. I want to feel her completely, when her breath stops, when her mind is completely gone and her body is surrendered to the orgasm I bring her to. Right then, after the first seconds of it, she will understand what she can do to me no matter where we are.
The rhythm I keep is not enough, so I pull my lips away, take a breath, and increase the pace. Her body arches slightly back, pressing herself even more into me. I recognise that movement.
“Fuck me harder,” the words come out of her suddenly. They are not expected, but they are real. What else can I do but give her what she wants, which matches what I want? I continue faster, hearing the sounds we make and wondering if someone passing in the corridor might recognise them, but honestly it wouldn’t stop me from finishing what I started. The intensity slowly leads us toward the inevitable end. A few strong thrusts into her and I see her bending under me. Like heated metal shaping under pressure.
Her breathing is shallow, I can see her hardened nipples under the fabric of her stretched dress, and her leg locks around my hip. She is dangerously close to crying out from the coming orgasm. Instinctively my hand pins her leg in place, and the other moves over her mouth, covering it with my palm. Her pussy clenches around my cock, sending pulsing convulsions directly into my brain. I feel her body release, her breath stopping for a second, two, then returning, shallow and intense. There is no way I can stop now. I remove my hand from her mouth and lift her other leg, which locks me tightly against her body. With one strong thrust I spill. A second, to make sure she feels it. And a third, exhausting me completely and leaving me dizzy.
I lean toward her, and her arms wrap around me. I can feel her pulse and the radiating heat of her body. Slowly reality returns to my mind. I lift myself slightly to look at her and see the faint, satisfied smile on her face, mixed with curiosity.
“Your ten minutes are up,” she says and laughs softly.
