Alone with Him

Finally. Our first chance to be alone. It was a long awaited moment we had been craving for weeks. Ever since that day...

He's a regular at my office. Always chatted with me longer than necessary, always flirtatious. I thought it was innocent and playful. He's married, with children. He's like that with all the women, so I never thought much of it even though he reminded me of an old friend I used to have fun with. Over the past couple months his flirting seemed to get a little more intense, like he was trying to communicate something with me, send me a message. He wanted to take me to dinner, told me to call him when I was single. I said, "but you're married? Why do I need to be single?" He explained that younger men are insecure. Disappointed, I agreed with him, and imagined what would follow a dinner date with him.

The next time I saw him, I had an opportunity to step away from the desk and walk by him. He said I looked like a babe and asked if was headed to a modeling shoot later. I could feel his eyes checking me out from head to toe. It excited me to know he was looking. I was searching for an opportunity, an innocent way to see him, to invite him. His hoody was ripped. On his way out that day I said he should bring it by my place later so I could fix it for him. I imagined him stopping by in the evening while I was home alone to "fix his shirt." I would of course fix it, but what would happen if he was alone with me? I know what I hoped might happen. I told him my address as he walked out the door. As he turned around and looked back at me, the expression on his face said it all. It was surprise and excitement, and at the time I didn't quite know it yet, but with that look he was telling me he was going to fuck my brains out.

Hours later on my lunch break there was a notification on my phone. He found me, and added me. I spent my lunch hour exchanging messages with him. He was trying to decipher if I was a bad girl. I was trying to read between the lines and confirm if we were on the same page, without crossing any boundaries. After all, he's a client at my workplace. I didn't want to be unprofessional. But then it happened. He's secretly a bad boy, and now he knows that secretly I'm a bad girl.

He kept me wet with his messages all that week at work. Telling me all the things he wanted to do to me, all the ways he wanted to pleasure me. He told me his goal is to make me squirt. How he would have the fingers from one hand buried in my pussy, my toes in his mouth and his other hand wrapped around my neck. Finally I had found someone to fill my desires. To be tied and bound, to be used and pleasured relentlessly. Someone who would do just about anything I needed in order to get me off. A side of myself I had never explored.

When I first met my current boyfriend I opened up to him about my fantasies, but he was young and inexperienced. He thought I was a freak and a slut. I hid all thoughts and fantasies from him from then on, and stayed in the relationship. Maybe those fantasies weren't healthy thoughts to be having in the first place. Besides, the sex was great. He would get me off 3-5 times every bout we went, which was sometimes 3 times in an evening. But some time between then and now something changed. It's been about a year since I've been able to get excited by him. Even his best efforts leave me completely unsatisfied, leaving me searching for it elsewhere...

I sent him pictures of me scantily clad. I tried to resist all urges to sent him nude and erotic photos. I see him about once a week at work. I wanted to wait. I wanted to see his face for myself the first time he laid eyes on my dripping wet pussy spread wide for him. But I couldn't wait any longer after he sent me a photo of him standing fully erect. Immediately upon seeing his big hard cock, even just in a photo, my juices were dripping down the inside of my thighs. I wanted to taste him and feel him inside of me. I wanted to cum for him, on his fingers, on his face and all over his cock, again and again. I would see him at work the next day.

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It was hard to believe how much had happened and changed in the past week. Last time I saw him we flirted, I thought, innocently. But this time would be different. This time he knew what I wanted, and I knew what he wanted to do to me too. And I wanted him to. This time he knew what I looked like naked. and he knew that my panties are soaking wet for him. Since I knew I would be seeing him that day I wore a skirt just above my knees, with sexy little heels. When I could, I found a reason to walk around the office, finding tasks that required me to bend over in front of him. I was so wet I kept checking the back of my skirt to see if there was a wet spot showing. On his way out he stopped at my desk. It was secluded enough that when I leaned back in my chair and spread my legs he could catch a glimpse of my sheer panties and the wet spot that had formed on them. Sitting there at work and letting him stare up my skirt, while there were other people around made me feel like such a dirty girl. I wanted to slip my fingers into my wet hole and let him lick my juices off my fingers, but there was no way to do that discretely. Our adventures would have to wait.

The next time I saw him I wore a dress, form fitted to my figure, putting my ass on display, and I must mention, it really is my best feature. This time I had more time alone with him. We weren't in private, but the view was obstructed enough that he could rub up against my backside in such a way that no one would notice unless they were watching up closely. I found a few reasons to bend over in front of him numerous times. I was close enough that he could reach out and touch me. So badly I wanted to feel his hands on my body. I wanted to be grabbed and groped. I felt his stare boring through the material of my dress. I felt like he could see the wetness seeping through my panties and smell my sweetness. I wanted to feel his hands on my hips and he thrust into me from behind, feeling his balls slapping against my clit, his fingers entwined in my hair as he pulled me against him. But that wouldn't happen yet. I had to wait.

That weekend I was out of town, free to message him without risk of being discovered. This gave me time to take pictures for him. To follow his instructions. He loves it when I do what he tells me. He loves it when I call him sir. I stood naked in front of the mirror as I took a photo of myself for him while I thought about the video he sent me earlier. A clip of him cumming. For me. Talking about the dirty things he wants to do to me. I loved hearing his voice say my name in that context, it was the first time. I loved seeing him hard knowing it was caused by me. I loved watching his face as he came for me. I couldn't wait to make him cum by my own hand. By my lips and my pussy. I couldn't wait to feel streams of his hot cum landing on my chest. He asked me to spread my legs for him, I sent him the photo as requested. Then he wanted to see me play with myself. I fingered myself with two fingers and sent him a photo. He wanted more. I sent him a video legs spread in front of the mirror, my fingers plunging into my pussy again and again. As I held the camera for the video I tried to look straight into the lens for him, but I couldn't help but watch myself, watch my pussy and watching my fingers, covered in my cum.

The next request was that he wanted to see me lick my fingers clean. I sucked on the tips of my fingers, and took them deep into my mouth, and licked between them and down around the knuckles not missing a spot. I couldn't wait for him to taste me, to share my taste wit him. I wanted to cum again.

Time and time again we tried to meet up, here or there when he was out, or when my boyfriend was otherwise occupied, but to no avail we couldn't get our schedules of opportunity to line up. The next time I saw him was at work again. I almost missed him. I was busy in another part of the office, but I knew he would stall for me. I knew he wanted to see me as badly as I wanted to see him. After all, he knew I dolled myself up for him on days I got to see him. If I do say so myself, I was looking my best. I had many compliments from women that day, I can't imagine what the men were thinking.

This day I was working with another girl. She, also in a committed relationship, was completely focused on him, as he chatted with her. I could tell, she wanted him too. I was wearing a skirt again, after all, it was the only way I could have fun with him while I was at work. As they chatted, her gaze fixed on him, I leaned back in my chair, casually putting my ankle up on my knee to give him a view of my black lace panties. Exposing myself to him in front of another woman. The thought of getting caught only excited me more. Watching him chat with her, while his eyes darted between my legs again and again. Every time his eyes met mine, we exchanged so many secrets.

He was leaving the next day to go out of town. It would be more than a week until I saw him again. Another long week of playing with myself, cumming while imagining the things he would one day to do me. Later that day I was out taking care of some errands, He messaged me, he was nearby. He asked me to meet him. He was in the back of a parking lot not far from where I was shopping at the mall. This was my chance, what I had been waiting for, craving and dreaming. Why was I nervous? I was shopping at the mall when I got the message. I didn't respond. I had to think hard. My stomach started to do flips. I went to the restroom to take a breather. I stood in a stall and stared at the message on my phone. Considering the time, could I do this without my boyfriend being suspicious? Could I pull this off and go home to him and keep it cool? I was ready to chicken out, to wait another week. I stood in that stall, my hand against the wall, my head on my forearm staring at that screen, weighing my options. Deep down I knew I wanted it. My mind set, I checked myself in the mirror and headed out to my car without a second thought, I headed to the back of parking lot.

I pulled in beside him on the passenger side. He didn't see me pull up. I hopped out and climbed into his truck. I think I caught his off guard. But it was so good to see him. So good to finally be alone with him. My nervousness was gone. My stomach was calm. The parking lot was busy, but we were away from the high trafficked area. He touched me for the first time, he put his hand on my shoulder and arm, grabbed my necklace and shirt, casually rubbing my breast as we chatted. He still had his sunglasses on, I pulled them off so I could see those eyes that had undressed me so many times.

He pulled the console in the middle up to expose the bench seat. I slid over so I was sitting next to him. Still dressed in a skirt, I draped my legs over his lap, facing him, making small talk. I've never been in a situation like this. Knowing exactly what we both want to happen, but knowing there was nothing more to it than that. We kissed, there was no romance in it, it was purely physical, a progression towards more. His hand slid up my skirt as his fingers pulled my panties aside I was worried I wasn't wet for him yet, due to my nervous demeanor leading up to our meeting. As he slipped his fingers into my pussy he pleasantly discovered that I was soaking wet. I felt was oblivious to my surroundings. I can only remember the scruff of a few days without shaving against my cheeks as I kissed him on the mouth, cheek, and nibbled on his ear all the while he worked his fingers slowly in my pussy. I was so hot for him. I needed so badly to cum for him, I knew it wouldn't take much, but I had no idea what was in store for me. I wish I could describe the magic he worked between my legs but all I can recall is the orgasm building deep inside me.

I was on his lap, clutching his sweater tight, pulling myself into him, thrusting myself onto his fingers as the first wave of my orgasm overcame me and my pussy tightened around his fingers and my body shook he didn't stop, as the waves of pleasure passed the next one was building and it crashed over me with such force I can hardly recall any other sensation, it continued for what felt like minutes and then next thing I remember I was on my back across the bench seat, legs in his lap, skirt around my waist with my legs spread wide and he finger fucked me with two fingers. He claims it was only two but there were moments I felt so full, and the slurping sounds of my hot wet cunt were so loud I thought maybe he was fisting me. Moaning and writhing on his seat, I came again and again, holding on to the door handle, biting my own shoulder as I was overcome by the pleasure. More than once I tried to close my legs, thinking I couldn't take any more. He pulled them apart and continued to ravage me with his hands. After I came again, huffing and puffing and lost in myself he slowed and stopped, giving my a chance to catch my breath and gather my wits.

After a few minutes I continued to lay there, legs still spread, teeth marks on my shoulder, I realized he was still fully clothed. Although technically, I was too. What I mean was, I had made no attempts to touch him. I was selfish and needy and took advantage of his desires to get me off. Still with my legs spread, completely exposed to him, he started to play again, when I moaned in response he took that as an invitation. "One more for the road?" He said. I spread my legs wider as he started to pick up speed, he probing the depths of my pussy. It wasn't long before I closed my legs around his hand, my pussy tightening around his fingers for the last time that day, not wanting him to stop.

I had lost count of the number of orgasms I had at his hand. Never before had I cum so much for someone so easily. I feared, and looked forward to, our future escapades. I straightened my clothes, retrieved an earring I lost during the excitement, combed through my hair with my fingers. I thanked him for the fun, and promised to return the favor next time. We kissed and parted. The wetness between my legs a constant reminder of our parking lot fun as I finished my errands for the day. All the while, wondering what would happen next time I see him alone. I guess we'll see in a week...