Budget Meeting

He couldn't stand it any longer. A powerful CEO sitting in his office each day distracted from budgets, investors and decisions...distracted by one woman he barely knew. Sure, he had met her during the interview for her middle management position, but generic questions about her work ethic and future were little use in what he wanted to do to her. For the past few months, he was tortured by her presence. Everyday she walked by the open door of his office on her way to the lunch room. Everyday he waited for the brief moments he could drink in her image. She always dressed so classy yet it drove him made with sexual tension. Her button down shirts formed a subconscious arrow pointing toward her breasts. Her dress pants clung perfectly against the curve of her hips and ass. Even the soft fall of her dark hair drove him mad, some primal need to bury his fingers into its length, twisting, tugging, gripping.

He realized that he had completely lost himself in his thoughts, the paperwork in front of him neglected as he stared out of his office. There had to be some solution . . . even pleasuring himself in his private bathroom didn't help anymore. He wanted HER. He needed HER. No, he needed to clear his head. He made his way to the bathroom, bracing his hands on the sink as he stared in the mirror. He was a handsome enough man, right? Women like tall guys, don't they? His helpless internal questions weren't helping as he reviewed his own features. His usually well groomed brown hair, often held in a fashionable style with gel or some other concoction his assistant was sold by a stylist, was now a tousled mess in need of a trim. Small pieces fell onto his forehead, their ends brushing against his lashes when he blinked. His dark eyes used to be intimidating and piercing, making even the hardest business man uneasy. Now they just stared back at him helplessly, a mix of untamed passion with uncertainty. But he was never uncertain. Dammit, he was NEVER uncertain. And now he was self-conscious, too, which was starting to piss him off. His straight nose was too angular, his mouth turned into a scowl to change the curve of his lower lip into straight line. Women are supposed to have full bottom lips, not men . . . right? He grunted at all the questions in his head and turned the cold water on. Splashing the cool rush against his face, he started to focus again. Sort of. As focused as he was going to get anyway. A quick encounter with a soft towel to dry his face and he opened the door to return to work.

Apparently, the world had a sense of humor. Perched in a chair on the other side of his desk was a dream, her rich, dark hair slipping from its placement behind her pale little ear to softly rest against her downturned face. She scribbled notes into her calendar as she patiently waited, her legs crossed and her mind obviously distracted as she did not notice him in the room again. He took a moment to appreciate her presence, his body and mind at war. Short in stature and slenderly curved, it would have been easy for his large frame to overpower her. Then again, he couldn't really afford to get arrested for that. With her head bent down and a thick fall of bangs mixing with shorter locks of her layered hair, he could only capture glimpses of her face. Part of a pale cheek, a hint of full lips, the tip of her cute little nose. Cute? Did he just use the word "cute" in his mind?

That's when she noticed he was there, her face turning up, their eyes meeting. He could hardly breathe when he looked into those eyes. He had always thought he liked brown eyes on a girl, dark and mysterious, but now he realized he was so wrong. She had bright green eyes, not the soft sage or dark forest green of most people. They were like leaves in springtime with an added sparkle that made him uneasy. It was as though she were smiling, yet her lips remained neutrally still. Trying to act as though everything was perfectly normal, he cocked a friendly - yet professional - smile onto his face and walked toward his desk.

"How are you doing today?" He was trying to keep the conversation as mundane as possible. One slip, one false word and she might retreat like a small animal from its prey.

"I'm just anxious to get these budgets and reports done and out of the way," she replied with a small smile.

"Oh, right. We're meeting about your budgets and expense reports." Now he felt like a total asshole. "It's been a long week, and I completely forgot that my assistant told me. I'm so sorry. Would you like something to drink?" He got up and went to the small refrigerator he kept filled with water and sodas (and a secret bottle of vodka hidden in the freezer). She agreed to some water, and he then shut the door for "privacy" for their meeting. Sitting down in a chair next to her, he tried his best to act calm and collected.

She took a small sip of water before shakily starting to talk about a proposal for next year's budget. He needed to focus on something to keep him mind clear. Her eyes. Eye contact is good when someone talks. But my God, wouldn't those eyes be beautiful, looking up at him...glazed over with pass----- Not her eyes. Her mouth? Watch the words she's forming. Focus on what she's talking about. Bad idea . . . the images of what those lips could do were worse than focusing on her eyes. The wall? That seems the only safe thing to look at. Then again, you can have a lot of fun against a wall. That's when he realized she had stopped talking and was looking at him oddly. It was as though she stripped away his entire facade and knew exactly what he was thinking. Her cheeks turned slightly pink, as though she were embarrassed or shy about something. Maybe she did know...

"Um..." she started uneasily. "I don't really know how to . . . that is, I don't usually do this . . . but . . . " She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and took a deep breath, trying to figure out the words to say as he began to panic. Is thinking about a co-worker sexual harassment? Or is it actually saying and doing things that counts? But her words broke through his thought pattern. "Do you want me to help you with that?"

That? Help with what? Then he noticed her gaze. Those beautiful green eyes dropped from his face to his lap and then slowly lifted their gaze back to his through a veil of thick black lashes. Her face was burning pink from shyness, and she was gently biting her bottom lip in fearful doubt. She was terrified at what she had just said. She didn't know if the rejection would be worse than getting fired or not.

"You want to help with what?" he choked out, fearing he had misunderstood.

"With um . . . you know . . . " she gestured toward his pants where his hasty decision that morning to forego underwear was now obvious. "I really don't want to lose my job over this, and I'm sorry, but you seem really distracted and I..." She bit her lip again, this time to silence herself.

"You . . .?" He leaned forward in his chair, his forearms resting on his thighs as he stared into her eyes.

"I...I um, might have a little bit of a, um . . . thing for you. I know you're my---" her sentence was finished as his mouth overtook hers.

This couldn't be real. It couldn't possibly be real. His aching, his dream, the woman he was fixated upon. She was here with him, alone and willing. He awkwardly pushed her back in the chair and then realized it was a horrible piece of furniture for this. And then he realized something else.

"I have a board meeting in twenty minutes. Oh, God...I want you now." He tried to press his mouth back against hers but she gently pressed against his shoulders, somehow the soft resistance stopped him. "What are you doing?"

"I don't want to just be some slutty office whore who gives you a quickie and then scampers off." His face actually paled at the thought of finishing the day with a raging erection and the knowledge that she wanted to "help him" with it. Then she spoke again, "But...I can help make your meeting a little more...comfortable." That's when he felt her hand against his stomach, trailing down to his belt. She pushed back at his hips, directing him toward his chair before finishing the fastening of his pants while she sank to her knees. As she undid the zipper and pushed the front panels of his pants, his body sprang out like a "Snake in a Can" gag, only instead of springy polka dot wonder, he presented her with a large, throbbing cock. He couldn't breath as he felt her tongue touch him for the first time. Hot, wet, soft. He could barely handle the pulsing of his blood through his entire body. Her mouth move over him, stroked him, sucked him, teased him and pleased him. Her tongue was wicked and her eyes on fire as she looked up at him. Between her tongue, mouth and fingers, she drove him mad. He couldn't take anymore, his knuckles white as they gripped the arms of his chair, he whispered, "Oh, God...I'm coming." She milked him dry, his cum filling her mouth, filtering out through her lips and trailing down her chin. She slowed her ministrations, gently flicking her tongue against him, softly sucking as he twitched and groaned. His breathing was heavy, deep and relaxed as he gazed down at her with heavy-lidded eyes. She smiled shyly as she cleaned the last traces of him from her face. She then looked at the clock and started restoring his clothes and he lazily groaned and protested.

"You have five minutes to get ready for the board meeting...and I highly doubt they would want to see you like this..." She gently pulled his pants closed, attending to his clothing as though she were dressing a child, not a rugged man. Before she left him, she placed one gentle kiss on his mouth and then walked to the door without a word, picking up her discarded office supplies from the floor before exiting.

His head was a fog. Did that just happen? Will it ever happen again? He attended the board meeting, slightly distracted by what happened, yet able to focus on a few key issues before returning to his office. However, it was after 6:00 pm and everyone had gone home for the night. Even her...

The next day, his schedule was full of meetings. He didn't even get a glimpse of her going to the lunch room. He was a burning mess, wanting the secret promises she gave of pleasure. The day was agony until 5:00 whenever most of the staff left. He waited until 5:15. 5:30. Would she come to his office? Would she call his extension to see what he was doing? He just couldn't handle it anymore.

Making his way through hallways and brief acknowledgments to different employees, he found himself at her door. He tried desperately to knock with a purpose, strong, professional. Instead, the awkward rapping of his knuckles on the door sounded more desperate, defeated. Then he heard her say "Come in." He tried to be charming, nonchalant . . . anything. Opening the door, he smiled. "I was wondering if you wanted to finished up our budget meeting?"

She looked up at him, her eyes changing from the sharp focus on her work to a keen, secret knowledge. Smiling, she gestured for him to come in. He closed the door behind him and quietly clicked the lock into position. She stood up and walked around her desk, the sight of her already enough to make his heart race. She wasn't wearing her usual business attire today. Instead, a crisp white button-down shirt was paired with a simple black pencil skirt, stocking-clad legs showing from the knee down to her black heels. Her hair was pulled into a mass of waves and curls, baring her face under the wash of bangs parted to one side and swept across her forehead. No words needed to be spoken as he loosened his tie, pulling the loop over his head and releasing his shirt collar. They made quick work of his jacket and shirt before her moved to her outfit. Plucking quickly at buttons, he finally got his first glances at her body. He uncovered a lace bra cupping her breasts and holding them perfectly for him. He didn't know much about bra sizing, but they were the perfect size to fill his hand . . . and milky white. So soft, so round, he had no mental control as his hand gently brushed across one slope, his thumb hooking into a strap and pulling it down her shoulder before pushing the cup down to free her nipple.

Making some sort of primitive, animalistic sound, his head descended onto her body, sucking, biting, licking. One hand fit securely at the small of her back, the other cupping and positioning her breast perfectly for his mouth. He heard her soft whimpers, gasps and sighs. He pressed his hips harder against hers, grinding his sex against her upper thigh. Her hands were in his hair, on his back, roaming everywhere and anywhere. He finished removing her shirt, her bra, his pants, then he pushed her skirt up her legs. He reached for panties, to find only garters holding her stockings up and no underwear. He froze and looked into her eyes. The girl was an enigma, surprising him repeatedly with bold sexual maneuvers and then retracting in shyness. It was amazing.

His hands brushed softly against her, the silky skin of her thighs and hips, cupping the curves of her ass, all while he kissed her. Their tongues danced together as he brought one hand to her neck, holding her head in place as he pressed his thigh between her legs, pressing it against the sensitivity of her womanhood and then using his other hand to grind her hips against him. He wanted to take his time, he really did. But he couldn't bear it any longer. Months of longing had built up to an impatience he couldn't ignore. He withdrew his mouth and turned her around, pressing her hips against her desk. He looked in the mirror hanging behind her desk, now showing her flushed face, parted lips and bare torso resting against his chest. Her hand slid back to grip his thigh and he lost every semblance of control he might have had until that moment. He pressed against her, her hips tilting to invite him inside her. He pressed the head of his cock into the wetness and groaned at the sensation. He couldn't help himself as he slammed his hips until he was buried completely inside of her, relishing in her surprised cry. She leaned forward onto the desk, rotating her hips around him and moaning. He reached out and grabbed her upper arms, gripping her weight and arching her back to expose her amazing body in the mirror. Her small hands responded, holding onto his arms and he started thrusting hard and fast. Watching in the mirror, he enjoyed each jolt of her breasts as his drove his dick inside of her. Her head was tilted back, mouth open, purring sounds of pleasure escaping her lips. He continued the fast-paced rhythm, pounded hard inside of her, the heat and moisture like nothing he experienced before. She was tight around his large shaft, but skilled and welcoming.

He slowed his hips, probing for moans and screams. But instead of allowing him to stay in control, a smile curled onto her lips and she pressed back against him, grinding herself back against his hips. He gently released his grip on her arms and pulled out, flipping her onto her back, flinging papers and pens onto the floor before plunging back inside her. Her legs were wrapped around his waist as he rode her to climax, her screams muffled against his shoulder as she bucked against him before he followed, coming inside of her. His hips slowed but did not stop until he literally could not move from the power of his orgasm. He braced his arms on each side of her, his face now buried in her heaving breasts and she tried to recover from her own climax.

Eventually, he recovered, pulling out of the safety of her body and collapsing in a chair. Her cheeks were still flushed, her eyes shining as she pulled her shirt over her exposed body, hiding the blush creeping across her chest. "Before I forget . . ." she started as she picked up some papers from the floor. "Here are my budgets and expense reports..." she smiled as she handed him the documents and then curled into his lap. "I think they're self-explanitory . . . but I could always answer questions off the clock..."

He laughed and kissed her, already planning their next "business meeting".