Brief Encounter Outside Work Hours

This is another quick 1k story, a little playful light bondage and domination in the workplace.

*****

It started for her in the morning as she rode the lift up, jostling intimately among various of her co-workers. All those tight, tailored suits towering over her in the confined space set her mind racing all through the day. Business hours slid by without overly engaging her.

At day's end her office door opened at five past the hour, on the dot; long enough for all the other workers to have disappeared homeward. He entered without so much as a knock. If they'd been on the clock, she'd have torn strips off his hide for his presumptuous unprofessionalism, but the present smugness of his smirk hinted at a much different story now they were alone in the building.

She didn't hesitate to rise from the formidable formality of her leather swivel chair, a move which would dominate the room during the workday but was now just an unspoken anticipation of his bidding. She stood in her severe sheer stockings, having slipped free of her high heels when he came in, a professional vision in a hip-hugging pinstripe pencil skirt. Her officious white blouse was also a classic touch. By the time she had circled around in front of her desk he was before her, eclipsing her personal space: with a deft flick of the fingers he opened her blouse a couple of buttons down to the top of her tightening bosom; with a quick tug he freed her hair from its sensible ponytail to cascade over her shoulders. For her part, she bit her lip in helpless anticipation.

His grin grew as his gaze drank up the sight of her newly-bared cleavage. He just stood there, taking his time, and she knew enough not to move as he did; the next step would be his, and he wouldn't be rushed. When it came, she still had to catch her breath. He tugged on the knot of the tie at his throat with one hand until the long snake of black silk was finally free, to catch it between his fingers and slide it off his neck. As he did that his other hand rose to take her chin, squeezing gently as his eyes met hers; she was fully in his hands as his grip guided her round and brought her bending down towards her desk. He let go. Her heart fluttered up into her throat as his hands found hers, and brought them together behind her back. Then, the silken snake of his tie coiled around to snare her wrists tightly together. Her eyes and lips squeezed unconsciously shut as she tried to contain herself.

He spread her belly-down across the surface of the desk; her feet slid apart as they arched up on tip-toe. Then he took the hem of her skirt, and peeled it up slowly to expose her upward-thrust buttocks. There was no underwear to impede his intrusions: she'd know by lunchtime what she wanted, and removed her knickers slyly even while composing the message to summon him. She wore nothing but bare, smooth skin between the tops of her thigh-highs and the skirt's new line across her tail bone. Every inch of it tensed expectantly. He took advantage, trailing electric fingertips up the inside of her thigh to begin probing the sensitive folds above. He took his sweet time as he began to coax forth her sweeter nectar.

Her eyes were still closed, and in any case she was facing the wrong way to see exactly what he was up to behind her. She didn't want to peek, preferring the excitement of mystery, and in any case he wouldn't have allowed her to do so. Thus, all she got was a bare moment's warning as his fingers suddenly disappeared, before they were replaced by something altogether thicker and more rigid. There was no pause to spare her feelings before the fat, meaty tip of the invader plunged forward to spear into her engorged entrance. A forceful impulse seemed to lurch forward inside her in time with his thrust, spurred on by his sudden momentum. By the time he hit his stride, their bodies were moving effortlessly together with each stroke.

With one hand, he lifted her bound wrists behind her; the lever of her arms forced her body down further to squirm over the desk as she was taken. The fingers of his other slipped up into her hair and closed around a large handful, tugging tight. Controlling her utterly with all three points of contact, he began to hammer away at her without restraint or remorse. As multiple overlapping judders of sensation shivered over her body and along her spine, she felt herself sinking gradually down until she was entirely beneath his power, a simple plaything to be tossed around by his every motion, practically just an extension of his body by this point. The feeling was mindless and incredible. Soon the pounding was too much, the stoked-up ball of fire inside her belly erupted and she began climaxing repeatedly and uncontrollably while he continued to carnally plunder her sopping sex. She howled as she rode out her ecstasy, and he growled as he rode her body to his own shuddering eruption, deep inside. The intensity of stimulation was such that, for several long seconds, she thought she'd gone blind; she simply could not process any other simultaneous sensation.

She thought she detected a slight shake in his grasp as he tugged undone the knot of his tie 'round her wrists, and then he pulled out, to leave her disheveled, shivering over the desk, holding herself up by her elbows now her knees were too weak to do the job unsupported. He made sounds of leaving; she turned, determined to breathe out a husky "That will be all"; he was already out of the door. It swung closed on the post-orgasmic heap of her body. She found herself grinning wide, and wondered when she would next feel the urge to summon him once more.