Remedy

Mr. Walsh buzzed Tamara into the office. She came in holding a notepad and a pen. She stopped, closed the door behind her, then walked cat-like and slow to the seat on the other side of Mr. Walsh's desk. He didn't hide his appraisal of her while she sat down. Mr. Walsh heard Tamara's stockings rub together when she crossed her legs. He was pleased by the way her skirt inched up, baring more of her thighs.

Tamara played with the golden heart charm on her necklace. When Mr. Walsh didn't speak, she straightened her back and let the charm fall between her cleavage.

"Is there something you wanted?" she said. Her voice came out pleasant but unsteady.

"You're wearing stockings right?"

Tamara nodded.

"Show me."

Tamara stood, placed her foot on the chair then pulled up the hem of her skirt, showing the lacy top of her stocking.

"Don't move," Mr. Walsh said.

He walked from behind his desk to kneel in front of Tamara. Mr. Walsh used his hand to follow the curve of Tamara's leg. He didn't stop until his hand disappeared under the hem of her skirt. His thumb touched Tamara's shaven pussy lips.

Mr. Walsh helped Tamara out of her skirt then replaced her foot on the chair. She caught Mr. Walsh behind the head just before he moved in to place his lips on the top of her pussy. It was a gentle kiss and one that didn't linger. Mr. Walsh was intent on tasting Tamara. He probed her with his tongue until he heard Tamara's moans rise in pitch.

Tamara held tightly to a handful of Mr. Walsh's dark hair. He seemed to know just how to lick her, when to ease up and when to drive his attention down hard and quick on her clit.

Mr. Walsh pulled his mouth away to tell Tamara, "Take off the rest of your clothes."

His tongue was back in her pussy, moving lightly, teasingly as he watched Tamara remove her blouse then free her breasts. She made a move to push down her stockings.

"No. Leave them on. The shoes too."

Tamara remained still. She was an enticing form that Mr. Walsh took his time to observe. The stockings encased Tamara's legs, giving them a captivating sheen. They were so luminescent that Mr. Walsh couldn't help but run his hands over them once, than again before gazing up at Tamara's face. He wanted to see her response when he sucked her clit into his mouth. The way it had swollen, begging for more rubbing, flicking and sucking thrilled him. The delicious musk of her sex was all over his face making his mouth water. Mr. Walsh watched Tamara clinch her eyes closed when he added a finger. He teased her hole, circled it but never plunged inside.

"Tell me."

"God, yes," Tamara murmured.

"Yes what?" Mr. Walsh punctuated his question with a kiss on her tummy.

"It feels good."

"What do you want?" Mr. Walsh pulled his finger forward and began tapping on Tamara's clit.

"Your finger...inside."

"Look at me."

Tamara's eyelids were heavy. Her body jerked with the taps from Mr. Walsh's finger. He did what she asked, but it wasn't enough. She grabbed his wrist, pushed more of his finger inside and set the pace, in and out.

Mr. Walsh groaned. He was aroused by her response. He wanted it to be his cock. He slipped another finger inside, knowing that his dick could stretch her, fill her beyond the width of his fingers. Tamara was tight, so tight he could barely spread his fingers apart while they were inside her pussy. She was gloriously wet.

There was no more shyness in Tamara's expression now. Her eyes were filled with lust for Mr. Walsh as he curled his fingers inside her.

"I'm going to fuck you. Here. On this desk," Mr. Walsh said. He withdrew his fingers then raked his moistened fingertips along her clit and watched Tamara shiver.

Tamara backed away from him. Her legs were unsteady but carried her the short distance to the edge of the desk. She flopped over onto the desktop, bent forward at the waist and spread her legs. At the sound of his zipper Tamara took hold of the sides of the desk. She felt the head of his cock flick along her swollen lips then before she could beg for him to fuck her he was inside. His entrance was swift and hard. The pencil holder and monitor on the desk shook. Two more strokes rattled them further and Tamara whimpered low in her throat. He took hold of her shoulders and used them to pull her back into him.

Mr. Walsh listened to the tick tick sound of the heart charm of Tamara's necklace colliding against the desktop. He knew that it was bouncing against her full breast as well and that spurred his desire to pound her senseless. He looked down at her and for a moment wished he could see her forehead creased, cheeks flushed and mouth open while he gave his sweet Tamara the length of his cock. He settled for listening to the sounds of her pleasure. The cherished sounds of her whimpers turned into full on groans as the depth and speed of his strokes intensified. He altered his movements slightly to keep her on the brink of her orgasm. He pulled his cock out slowly and enjoyed seeing it glistening with her juices. The pink of her stretched around him.

He lost himself too long in the erotic sight of her pussy. Tamara turned back to look at him and with pleading eyes she said, "Don't stop."

"I'm only taking the time to watch your beautiful pussy grab my cock." Mr. Walsh said, sliding inside again. "You do have a splendid little cunt."

Tamara moaned then let out a little giggle.

"You like that huh?" he asked.

Mr. Walsh pushed his hips against Tamara's ass.

"I do. I like it."

"You like me telling you what a pretty pussy you have don't you?" When he got a moan instead of an answer Mr. Walsh's hand came down across Tamara's ass with a slap.

"Yes. I love it."

Mr. Walsh leaned over Tamara's back. He positioned his mouth close to her ear.

Tamara arched her back and allowed Mr. Walsh to pull her up against his chest. His hands clasped around her neck. Her body was a perfect bow, stretched taunt against the searing pleasure between her legs.

"Exquisite. Wet. So fucking tight."

Mr. Walsh punctuated his praise with thrusts of his cock. Tamara cried out. The way her body was tethered to Mr. Walsh's she could hardly move as the waves of orgasm rocked her body. Each wave was quick and left her muscles throbbing. Mr. Walsh turned her loose. She caught herself on the desk. The teetering pencil holder tumbled to the ground when Mr. Walsh rammed inside her. He thrust against the pleasure in her pussy and replaced it with twinges of pain as his penetration became too deep.

Tamara bit into her clenched fist. She allowed Mr. Walsh to use her pussy. She felt his fingers dig into the flesh of her bottom. He groaned once then she was free. Tamara's breathing slowed as spurts of Mr. Walsh's come lashed across her lower back. Her body relaxed. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, causing her ass to sway against Mr. Walsh's softening cock. His come cooled. Tamara shivered as one thick glob ran over her hip.

Mr. Walsh zipped his pants. In that one simple motion he went from fervent lover to professional. Other than a flush that warmed his smooth cheeks, one could hardly tell he'd only moments ago been fucking. Fucking very well, Tamara thought to herself. She retrieved a handkerchief from the desk drawer and did her best to clean herself up.

Mr. Walsh smiled at her. She was missing a line of come that was out of reach.

"Here. Let me help you."

Tamara stood still. His hand was warm through the thin handkerchief. She held her breath in anticipation and then let it out in slow disappointment when his hand didn't linger. She stepped around the desk to stand in front of the black leather chair and to put distance between the two of them.

"I think that will be all, Bradley."

Bradley Walsh's lips turned up into a smirk. "Yes, Tam-," he cleared his throat. "Ms. Sloan." Bradley smoothed his tie down the front of his dress shirt then turned to exit the office.