Time Consumed

I have stared at this clock many times. I've watched it tick away the hours until my work day is complete. I've watched it and waited for you to come into my office with my coffee each morning, wondering if you'd be on time today, or a bit early, as you often were. I watched the clock and wondered if now were the time I should say something to you. But, I'm your boss. I couldn't possibly be forward with you.

But, now... You are here... and I am two hours early... I glance at my clock to make sure I've not come later than I thought. You tell me you've come in early to complete the final touches of our presentation. I tell you I have too, but you've already completed them, and it takes very little time for me to check over and approve of the last additions.

We collect our things and head into the board room to set up. You ask if I'd like some coffee and I tell you I will get it. When I come back to the meeting room, I noticed you've divested yourself of your tie. Your top three buttons are undone, and your white undershirt peeks through the top of your crisp blue shirt. I wonder if you buy your own clothes. I know you don't have a girlfriend, from the gossipy women of the office, but maybe you have a special lady friend? Why should I care... It's not like I'll ever say anything... I glance up at the giant clock that can be seen throughout the office. It's only been twenty minutes...

I glance back at you, then lower my gaze. I pretend to scroll on my phone as we make small talk, all the while stealthily taking in your form. Your hair is cut short, your face, clean-shaven, but for the neatly trimmed hint of beard. Your lips are wide and full and I wonder how they would feel against mine. I blush a bit, looking at my phone once again. You ask about my weekend and I babble about my boring movie night with my puppy, Chavez. I ask about yours and watch you once again. Your eyes are dark, and hot; your gaze never leaving mine. You tell me about the dance class you teach on weekend. I tell you how much I love to dance and would love to be taught professionally. You laugh a bit and tell me you're no professional, but it helps you stay in shape. I run my eyes over your wiry, muscularly thin frame. I look back up to see that you've caught me staring. I look away, embarrassed.

You tell me, once again, that you're no professional, but you'd love to teach me what you know.

I detect a hint of teasing flirtation in your tone and my gaze snaps back to yours. You have a lovely voice. You're well-spoken, but have the lilt of an urban-raised boy, ever so slight accent. Somewhere in New Jersey, I'm guessing. I ask, and you confirm my suspicion. I smile a bit and tell you I was raised in West Orange. You say, Ah, suburban black girl with a wry smile. I laugh a bit, Yes. We start talking about the familiar memories of our home state, the awkwardness when people make jersey jokes, the slight shame when they mention Jersey Shore.

We're laughing and talking and again, I glance at the clock. still an hour and 13 minutes before people start coming into the office. No one is ever early in our office. Never eager to arrive. That's why I enjoy coming early. I can start my day in silence and reflect on my past work day and what I can do to get more done. You catch me looking at the clock and ask if I'd like a minute to myself. I say no a little too quickly, and shyly ask you to stay. You chuckle and tell me I'm confusing. I ask why, as you've now piqued my curiosity. You tell me how you've seen me watching you, and I am a bit embarrassed. You tell me how you've gotten mixed signals, and I didn't realize I'd given any. You mention the signals you've given, and I smile a bit and tell you I haven't noticed any.

You lean in a bit closer to me, your elbows on the table, hands cuffed in front of you. I can smell your minty-sweet breath and a hint of something dark and sexually gratifying on your skin. God, you smell amazing... You ask me what I'm all about, because you can't quite figure me out. I smile and tell you, I honestly have no clue. I am your boss after all, I can't just lay my cards on the table.

You seem to debate something, and then I see the resolution (or is it resignation?) in your eyes as you lean in to kiss me. I tilt my head up a bit, my fingertips resting on the edge of the table, as my lips meet yours. Your hand slides up into my hair and mine onto your shoulder. I break away a moment to catch my breath. Your lips feel amazing, but so does oxygen in my lungs.

We look at one another for a very long moment, and the next moment we're standing next to the table, my bum pressing lightly into it, your hand at the base of my back. I don't think as once again you lean down and your lips meet mine. My head is tilted all the way back to accomodate your well over six foot frame, and you push me, still further into the table, which I am now sitting on. You push off my jacket and begin to unbutton my blouse as your lips make their way to my neck. Somewhere in my mind, I ask myself what the hell I'm doing, and somewhere else, I answer, why the hell do I care? I smirk and moan a bit, enjoying the little nips at my neck and collar. It's been quite a long time since I've had any male besides Chavez near me. And while I love my pup, his kisses are nowhere near as exciting. I giggle a bit, and you chuckle in response, pushing my shirt back to reveal my lace and cotton clad breasts. You mumble an expletive and tell me you've fantasized about what my breasts look like, and that I'm beautiful.

You kiss me again, and before I can catch my breath, your hands are tugging my bra down and lifting my breasts to your mouth. I wonder if anything should feel so bloody amazing, and I arch my back so you have an easier go of it. You massage one of them while pinching my nipple slightly, your mouth on the other, your hand at my waist. I rest one hand on your neck, the other pulling your head in closer, as if you could get any closer.

You put your hands on my arse and pull me in closer to you, my skirt now bunched atop my hips. I feel you press hard against me. The cotton barrier between myself and you growing damp slightly. I push your now unbuttoned shirt off of your shoulders, your white cotton uni over your head. We both laugh breathlessly as our hand reach for your belt. You take mine and ask if I'm sure. I hesitate, only for a second and nod as I loosen your belt. That being all the answer you need, you let me off of the table and pull my panties down. I loosen the garters holding up my sheer nylon thigh highs, and take them off.

Pushing me back onto the table, you place your mouth on me once again. My back against the cool hard wood. I shiver slightly as you trail your tongue between my breasts. My eyes are shut as I lose myself to the feel of you against me. I feel your hand on my thigh, pushing my legs apart, and then I feel your thumb press slightly against my centre. I gasp at the feel of your thumb pushing lightly against my clitoris. I keep my eyes closed as I feel your beard brush lightly above my left knee. I feel the trail of kisses up my inner thigh and I once again begin trembling, my hands atop your head.

Part of me wants to move away. I'm nervous and excited and a little bit anxious. I will myself to be still. I gasp and move slightly when I feel your tongue slide up my lips. You part me slightly and lick my clit. I involuntarily close my legs a bit tighter. You lick at me slowly, torturously. Your arm goes around my leg, the thumb of your other hand begins rhythmically rubbing and circling my clit as you continue to taste me. I do my best to be quiet, and you hear me muffling my noises. You tell me you want to hear me. I blush a bit, glad you can't see me. You come up and give me sweet, hot kisses. I taste myself on you, and swirl my tongue around yours. I hear you groan a little and pull me closer to you.

Still leaning over me on the table, you push your hardened length against my moist entrance. I am holding my breath, waiting for you to enter me. But, instead you rub it against me, teasing me. You ask me if I'm ready and I say please. You slowly push into me, and I feel myself tighten around you involuntarily. I try to calm down, feeling myself near orgasm already. You push into me a bit more and my head rolls back, my back arches, your hands are under my back, my loose hair splaying across the table. I wrap my legs around your waist, so as to better accomodate your size. You slam into me the rest of the way and I'm shaking, my arms around you, my lips at your ear, I'm cumming, and you begin to pound into me in a slow, hard rhythm. My adoring litany of expletives falling on your all too willing ears. I feel myself coming down slightly, and sensing this, you start to move faster. You stand up and put your hands on my hips, holding me, fucking me as I move back and forth atop the table in our office meeting room. I'm playing with my breasts and you're watching me. I close my eyes and you tell me to look at you. You lift my legs up and hold onto my ankles as you continue slamming into me. I know I'm loud and I have no intention of keeping quiet.

I feel you pull out of me suddenly and I make a sound of protest. You pull me off of the table, and, holding me, lay on the carpeted floor. Straddling you, I slowly lower myself onto your, now that I've seen it, very lovely cock. I hold onto your hands and bounce a little faster on it. I hear you moan slightly and begin rubbing my clit as you play with my breasts. You tell me you're close, and I feel my own nearing. Once again with your hands on my hips, you begin thrusting up, meeting my motions. I lower suddenly as I start to cum. You turn us over and I wrap my legs around you again. The feel of you inside me, pounding deep and hard and sweet is incredible, and before one orgasm is complete, I feel another take over me. You feel me contract around you and push into me once more before you too begin to cum. I feel so deliciously good and bad and wet, and I wish we could stay this way a while.

Breathless, you kiss me. I'm sure my hair is a wild mess, as I distantly remember I'd heard the bobby pins fall out some time ago on the table. You lay next to me on the carpet, and I let out a nervous laugh.

"Wow," we say together, and laugh. Smiling, I sit up and my eyes land on the clock.

"Shit!" Your eyes follow my gaze and we both realize there are only ten minutes until the work day begins. I tell you there's a shower on the second floor, through the break room. We gather our clothes and run for the stairs, you naked and myself, still topless. We laugh a bit as we enter the stairwell. Our laughter abruptly grows silent as we hear a door to the stairs open two floors down.

(Authors note: Did they make it? Did they get caught? You decide :])

- Donette Belizaire