I smell him before I see him. He's behind me. Close. Close enough for us to share body heat. Not close enough though. I want him and the smell of him makes me wet. I want him. He's not mine to have, I know that, and I also know he never will be. I turn around as if to fuck off to the toilets or something. The freaky mind-melt thing we share at work makes him lean towards me and as soon as he does, I know that whatever else happens, I have to leave. Although right now I'm not going anywhere. He is too close for comfort, the small gap between us full of static. Careful not to look at him, I mime my goodbyes to the group and start backing away in the general direction of the exit. Everyone is on their final round of drinks and merriment is abundant. He leans in for a hug and we touch briefly, my nipples so hard I think they might be poking through the bra padding. He doesn't look at me directly either. I hear him half shouting his goodbyes and when the boss manages to drag the remains of our group to the dancefloor for one final hustle, I slip away muttering some lame excuse that gets lost in a din of techno mashups.
I know it's now or never. There is no doubt I am headed for trouble. If I stayed, at best I will make a complete tit of myself, at worst I will do something entirely inappropriate, and that's that. He will know I am a lecherous middle-aged asshole and any boundaries we have at work will be gone. I hadn't expected him to look this good though. Well, he is young, it goes a long way for most people, but the suit fits him nicely. No goofy denim cutoffs and frat tee. The stubble is nice as well. I can't help thinking how it would feel against my cheek, top or bottom. I push through the incoming crowds to the coat check. There is a bit of a line, most are on their way in, the fun young ones. I am feeling flushed and a little drunk, my body full of nervous energy that seems to be mounting.
Before I even reach the counter, a hand snakes around my waist and pulls me to the side, steering me towards some stairs beside the entrance. I don't have to turn around to see who it is. He jostles me gently through the rope with a small sign that says, staff only. Before I know it, we are standing in front of a door in a small hallway at the top of the stairs. He reaches for the knob. 'No, this can't happen' my brain is screaming. I brace myself against the door and push away, into him. His grip tightens, pulling me even closer. I can feel his erection. He's a big boy. I knew he would be. I try twisting and almost succeed in wriggling away but he spins me around.
"I can smell you" he says.
He is defiantly looking at me now.
"I know"
His impossibly blue eyes are burning into mine.
"It would be a mistake" I try saying, but the only thing out of my mouth is a soft whisper of "mistake".
"I know, don't care"
His face is so close. I think I could probably leave now and we might be able to awkwardly laugh this off come Monday.
The door opens behind me. On the other side is an office with a very convenient sofa. It seems my body is not in step with my brain as I drop my purse so that hands are free to find their way inside his jacket, resting briefly against his chest and then latching on to the top button of a slightly musty shirt. We kiss. Softly and for a long while. At the end of the kiss, his jacket is on the floor. My fingers have undone every one of his buttons and are now tracing the hairy line from his chest to his belt, eager to assist in relieving the pressure of the buckle. His fingers have travelled up my dress and under the garter, resting atop the very flimsy lace between me and air. He cups my pussy, lace and all. One strategic squeeze and built-up juices would flood his palm. He carefully unbuttons the top of my dress and unzips it one-handed, all the way down to my ass. I shiver slightly from sheer pleasure as he pulls it down to my waist. I break the kiss and undo his fly, slipping into his underwear to return the favour.
His cock is hard and hot to the touch. It's been a while. I'm fairly sure though it's well above average in both girth and length. Fuck, that's not great. The big boys almost never know what to do with that thing. He groans and finds my lips again, this time the kiss is less gentle. There is need and lust and aching covering my mouth.....and tongues. I am lost for a moment, the thrill of 'new man' rushing through me, his hand is still cupping my cunt, exploring the line of my panty until the fingers find their way inside and then inside me, into the wet centre of me. I move my hand up his shaft, gripping the head loosely, oscillating up and down, making sure never to stray too far, keeping contact the whole time. His fingers find the rough spot just inside my opening and push against it, moving in a circle that sends a rush of heat from there to my ears.
We melt onto the sofa together. I end up on top of him while he sits against the back of the sofa, never removing his hand until I am straddled across him, and then he pulls my underwear aside, rubbing my juices all over the outer and inner lips to make sure there is a smooth transition from my hand into my swollen, warm pussy.
"Wait, wait!" My mind suddenly kicks into autopilot. He stops himself, breathing deeply and a little fast. I can smell the whiskey we shared just a little while ago on his breath. There is no question or protest. He is still, waiting for my next move.
