by Daphne Dawn
But she’s also my new project manager, and we have work to discuss.
I would’ve behaved myself and not thought all sorts of dirty things if it wasn’t for her comment about seeing me alone. It doesn’t very often happen to a man that the forbidden fruit he lusts after wants him, too. Well, if that man isn’t me. Doesn’t mean I’m not above temptation.
She asked if she would be in my office, alone. I can’t think of any other reason for her to want to be alone with me than the fact she wants me, too. At least, that’s what I think it is. It’s what I hope it is. It can’t be that she’s trying to make a move this soon.
God, if I had my way with her, I would fuck her on my desk until she cried out. I would take her from behind, pound into her with that ass exposed. I can imagine what her mouth would look like if her lips are stretched around my cock.
I close my eyes and breathe out with a shudder. I am so horny it’s driving me insane. I’m rock hard in my pants, my cock throbbing and my balls are swollen and begging for release.
But I must be a good boy. I can’t lay her down on my couch and fuck her. She works for me, and I’m not allowed to fuck her – we have rules here at RidgeCo. Rules that stop me from having my way with a woman like Kylie because she works for the company the same way I do. I’m not allowed to fraternize with my colleagues.
But God, I want to.
That’s not even the biggest reason I need to keep my hands to myself. Patience, Wes. I’ll have my chance. It’s like a game of chess. I have to keep my strategy firmly in place, even if I do see an opportunity to make a move. Not yet. I just have to bide my time. If everything goes according to my plan, I’ll come out on top, having my way with her and exploding all of her own carefully laid out plans in the process.
I glance at my wristwatch. I sent her an email asking her to be here by two. Where the hell is she?
Just as I think it, a knock sounds on the door and it opens a moment later. She stands in the doorway. A thrill travels through me when I look at her. I wave her in.
She walks into my office, and I watch the way she moves as she turns to close the door again. She’s elegant and graceful in her high heels – some women walk like a newborn calf on their heels because they can’t handle it – and she’s dressed to kill in an office outfit that works as well behind a desk here at RidgeCo as it would in a porno.
She wears a black pencil skirt that hits her mid-thigh. It’s not too short for the office, but it’s pushing it. Her long legs are clad in stockings – I hope to God they’re not pantyhose – and when she turns around, the slit flashes enough thigh for me to know her legs are fantastic. A white blouse is a nice contrast against the black skirt, and it’s unbuttoned just low enough for me to want to know what’s underneath it but not so low that I can find out by staring.
Her hair hangs down her back, wavy and silken.
When she turns to me, she smiles a little nervously. Her lips are a dark red – not a hooker red – and subtle makeup has been applied to her eyes to make them look larger, but she doesn’t look tacky.
She glances around the office for a moment. A large window lets in a lot of light, bookcases to my left and a couch to my right. The desk is in the middle of the room, and the wall behind me displays my degrees and awards and all the things that say nothing about who I really am. She has no idea about the real me.
“Good afternoon, Miss Jordan—Kylie,” I say. “Please, sit down.”
She smiles at me. She walks to one of the chairs that face me. I get up and walk around my desk, sitting down next to her. She watches me, and I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Just like I know she can’t read my thoughts. Neither of us reveal the subterfuge lying just beneath the surface. The only difference is I’m the only one of us aware we’re both playing dirty.
Game on.
“Hello, Wes,” she says. I like the way my name sounds on her tongue.
“How are you coping in the new positions?” I ask.
She nods. “It’s a little daunting to catch up on so much reading after hours, but I’m managing. I’m enjoying it.” She smiles, and I glance at her mouth. Her lips are plump, the bottom lip a little thicker so that it looks like she pouts, and they’re so damn kissable I have to force myself to look at her eyes again
“I’m glad you’re managing,” I say. “Do you have any questions about the project?”
The business talk is boring, and I can smell her perfume – something light and floral. It’s driving me mad.
“Well, I have an idea here,” she says, and removes a file from the bag she brought with her. She opens it up and shows me what she’s been working on. I look at her handiwork, and somewhere at the back of my mind, I note that her work is good, that she’s done a lot of research and knows what she’s talking about. I also vaguely register that she’s doing a damn good job for someone I know has ulterior motives for working here.
But I can’t get that scent out of my nose, and she’s sitting so close to me I can almost see down her blouse. Almost. My cock is throbbing in my pants again. Smell is the most powerful sense. It can be your fantasy or your nightmare.
In this case, it’s driving me mad. I can’t listen to what she’s saying anymore. I watch her mouth as it moves, explaining her work to me, and all I can think about is kissing her. I know I’m not supposed to think of her as a plaything. She’s my employee. But sex is pinned to my frontal lobe, and I can’t think of anything else.
I don’t want to. Somewhere, I decide to break the rules. It’s not a conscious decision, but it happens all the same.
“I’m sorry, Kylie,” I say, interrupting her sentence. “I’m sure you’re great at your job. I hired you for a reason. But I can’t sit here and pretend I don’t know what’s going on here.”
I get up and walk toward the office door. Kylie watches me as I move. I can feel her eyes on my body. If she sees my hard-on, she doesn’t let on, but I know it’s there, tugging and straining against my pants, begging for a release.
I lock the office door and turn back to Kylie. She’s still watching me, her big brown eyes on mine. She swallows. Does she think I’m onto her? I’m making her nervous, making her sweat. My eyes trace the smooth line of her neck into her cleavage where the blouse is buttoned up too high for me to see her tits. I want to see them.
“What are you doing?” she asks. Her voice has that breathy quality to it, the same as it had on Monday. I love it when she’s flustered like this. It makes me want to take advantage of her. I don’t give a fuck if it sounds bad putting it like that. I can’t help what I want. What I like. With her asking if we could be alone, I know that I’m not taking advantage of her. She wants this about as badly as I do. I’m willing to bet my position in the company on that.
I briefly wonder if it bothers her that I’m affecting her like this. If this throws as much of a wrench in her plans as it does mine. And suddenly, I don’t give a flying fuck if I’m upping my game too soon. It all ends the same anyway, right? With me destroying everything she’s setting out to accomplish.
So why wait? I have to have her. Now.
When I walk back to her, her eyes flick down to my crotch, and I know that she knows I’m hard for her.
“I have to get this out in the open,” I say.
I don’t let her ask me what I’m talking about. If she doesn’t know already, I’m going to show her. When I reach her, I take her hand and pull her up. I grab her around the waist and pull her against me so that her crotch is against mine.
She gasps with a sharp intake of breath when she feels my cock pressing against her. I kiss her, hard. I push my tongue into her mouth, and she doesn’t reject me. Her tongue swirls around mine, and it’s urgent right away. She kisses me back with the same urgency that I’m kissing her. I grind myself against her, gyrating my hips, and she pushes against me hard enough to make the friction possible. I push my hand into her hair, slide it down her neck and onto her chest, pushing my fingers under her blouse. She g
asps against my lips when I cup her breast beneath the shirt, my fingers in her bra, reaching for her erect nipple without any warning.
When I pull lightly on her nipple, she moans softly.
She moves my chest away from her without breaking contact between our hips. My fingers make quick work of the top few buttons of her blouse, and I have more access to her breasts. I pull one of them out from the cup so that it’s pushed up by the bra.
When I do the other breast the same and glance down to admire my handiwork, her breasts are on display, pert and ripe, her nipples tight.
I put both hands on her hips and grind myself against her, holding her in place.
Kylie slips her hand between our bodies, pulling away for a moment. Her hands make quick work of the buckle, and I get the feeling she’s done this before. Just like I thought—not quite so innocent, is she? She unzips my pants and reaches into my boxer briefs. Her fingers are hot, and I groan when she wraps them around my cock and pulls me free of the confines of my briefs.
She nudges me toward the couch against the wall, and I step back until I can sit down. I lower myself onto it, and Kylie kneels, spreading my legs with her hands on my knees to allow herself space to move in between them.
Fuck. She’s either just as horny as I am right now, or she’s playing me better than I thought. I can’t even be bothered to care at this point. I just want that hot mouth on my cock.
Her hands are on my cock, and she glances up at me before she bends forward. Her hair hangs in a waterfall around her face. She closes her mouth around my cock, and I gasp. Her lips are hot, and I swear it feels like I’m inside her pussy already. She swirls her tongue around the tip of my cock, tasting me before she pushes her head down and takes more than half of me in her mouth. She meets her lips with her hand, sliding up and down, holding all of me in her palm or her mouth.
I close my eyes and tip my head back. She’s so fucking good at sucking me off, I have to concentrate not to blow my load. But I don’t want to come, not yet. I want so much more from Kylie. I want to make her desperate, make her beg. I want to fuck her.
When I think about fucking her, it brings me closer to the edge, so I focus instead solely on what I’m feeling, the way her lips are soft and hot, the way she manages to suck on me in a way I don’t feel her teeth at all.
She starts bobbing her head faster and faster, working up a rhythm that’s a lot like sex. I buck my hips hard, meeting her mouth. I push my hands into her hair and pull, gripping her head. I hold her and fuck her face, not caring that I’m being rough. From the way she’s moaning on my cock, the hums edging me even closer to a mind-numbing explosion, she likes it like that. And fuck, if that doesn’t make me want her even more.
Too close, I ease back and let her do her thing, feeling her head bob beneath my hands, and I groan. She’s so fucking good at this. I’ve had my share of blowjobs in my life, but she’s by far best at what she’s doing.
I can’t hold out much longer if she keeps going this way, so I gently nudge her head. She stops and looks up at me with impossibly big eyes.
“I can’t hold out if you keep doing that, angel,” I say.
She nods. I pull her up and kiss her. I want her to trade places with me. It’s my turn, now.
Kylie
I can’t believe I’m in Wes’s office, sucking his cock. When I told him I wanted to be alone, I knew he figured out I wanted him, but when we started talking about work, I thought I’d gotten it all wrong.
Until he locked the door and came to me with that look in his eye, the look men get when they’re sure that something is going to happen.
And now I’m on my knees between his legs, his cock hard and straining and glistening from my spit.
“Sit down on the couch,” he orders.
The commanding tone has my pussy clenching. I immediately do as he says. I move so that I’m sitting, and he’s kneeling on the floor. He pushes up my pencil skirt, and the cool air of the room brushes my bare pussy. My stockings are the kind that have lace tops, and I haven’t bothered with panties. I wanted this. I know it’s wrong, but I figured that if we got around to doing this, I would be ready for him. And if not, no one would know any better.
He looks at my pussy, practically salivating before he looks up at my face.
“You’re not wearing anything under here.” It comes out like a growl.
My whole body feels it. I shake my head, smiling at him.
The surprise on his face is worth it. His eyes change before he looks at me again, his pupils dilating, his expression hungry. He pushes the skirt up so it’s bunched around my hips, and I’m naked from the waist down save for my high heels. Wes reaches for me and brushes his fingers along the smooth skin of my labia.
I shiver. He pushes his fingers into my slit and my breathing changes, become faster, shallower. I’m already wet for him – I already was before he started kissing me.
“You planned this, didn’t you?” he asks.
It’s hard to think when he rubs his fingers over my clit. I pull up one shoulder in a half-shrug.
“What if I did?” I ask, but it’s hard to sound arrogant when my voice hitches.
I almost can’t believe I’m doing this. Yeah, I briefly considered using sex to bring him down once I realized he was attracted to me. But never seriously. That’s not how I play. I’m doing this right now because I just can’t fucking resist him. And yeah, maybe that’s playing with fire. But right now, all I want is to get burned. Consumed. Scorched by the flames he’s igniting in my body.
Wes flashes a devilish smile and pushes his fingers into me. I gasp. He slides one finger in and out of my pussy. Before long, he adds another finger. I moan softly while he finger fucks me. Wes looks up at me, his eyes impossibly green before he dips his head and closes his mouth around my clit.
He’s still pumping his fingers in and out of me, and his tongue finds my clit. He flicks his tongue over me, and I gasp, writhing on the couch, balanced between his hand and his mouth. He pumps his fingers faster and sucks my clit into his mouth. I whimper. My hands are in his hair, and I move my hips while he works me over.
I can feel an orgasm building. Waves of shivers wash over my body, and my core clenches. The orgasm suddenly rocks through me, and I arch my back on the couch, my body tightens, and I pull Wes’s face into my pussy, moving my hips, riding his face as the orgasm takes hold of me.
When it slowly releases, I collapse back and breathe hard.
I swallow and look at Wes. His fingers are still inside me, moving in and out slowly. His eyes are on me, and he’s grinning, wicked satisfaction all over his face.
“You’re fucking hot when you do that,” he says. Right now, he’s someone other than the boss that I work for, the man that handled the interviews. In the office, he’s always calm and collected, he does what is right and proper. Now that the door is shut and it’s just the two of us doing things that are borderline sex – no, fucking – the real man beneath his façade shines through.
And I want that man to take me. Even though I know I shouldn’t. That it’s a dangerous game I’m playing. I don’t care.
Wes holds out his hand, and I take it. He pulls me up and against him, planting a kiss on my lips. His tongue slips into my mouth. He takes a few steps to the side and moves me with him, almost like we’re dancing.
The kiss doesn’t last very long. He spins me around, and I’m facing the side of the couch, the armrest in front of me. Wes bends me over, one hand on my hip and one on my back to assume a position where my ass is on display for him. It’s like he was reading my mind. I love how he’s so controlling, taking me and doing as he pleases.
I swallow and breathe hard through my mouth. I shiver with anticipation. He’s going to take me. Hard. I know it. And there’s nothing I want more.
His hands are on my ass, squeezing the cheeks, pulling them apart slightly. His fingers plunge into my pussy again, and I’m hot and wet and ready for him.
A mo
ment later, he replaces his fingers with his cock and slams into me with one deep, hard thrust.
I gasp. He’s big – bigger than I thought he would be considering he was in my mouth – and my body yields and stretches to accommodate him.
He moves slowly into me, and I’m tight around him, my walls gripping his cock and pulling him deeper into me.
When he’s buried as deep inside me as he can be, he pauses, and the office is filled with our labored breathing for a moment. I brace myself with my hands on the armrest.
Wes pulls out of me almost all the way – just the tip is still inside me – when he slams into me. This time, there’s nothing gentle about it. He fucks me hard, hammering into me and pulling out again. I cry out before I catch myself. I must keep quiet. I don’t want the office to know that I’m letting Wes fuck me on his couch.
I don’t have a lot of time to think about how loud I’m being. He keeps slamming into me, jerking my body forward with every thrust. My breasts are still hanging out of my shirt, and I feel dirty. I love it. All my previous escapades with men have been careful, gentle, by-the-book. It’s not the case, now. This is hard and dirty, the stuff of fantasy. I barely know Wes more than the fact he’s the CEO here.
His hands are on my hips, fingers digging into my skin. He holds me in position and pounds into me. I’m starting to edge toward losing control again. I close my eyes and get lost in the sensation, get lost in the feel of his cock pounding into me, my body rocking back and forth, breasts spilling out of my shirt.
I’m fucking my boss in his office. Or rather, he’s fucking me.
The orgasm building creeps ever closer, but then he pulls out of me. I whimper for a different reason. After being so full, I’m suddenly empty.