No Objections

The next few weeks went by in a blur. When they returned to the office, everything seemingly was the same as it always had been. She walked back into the office Monday morning and met his eyes while he was chatting with someone else. He smiled. She smiled.

She forced herself to walk into her office, close the door, and took a deep slow breath. Her blood was on fire. Her mind was tortured with visions of his fingers sliding into her and echoes of the way he said her name when he came. She was teetering on the edge of lust driving her insane. She swore under her breath, reminding herself that was precisely why nothing like this had ever happened before. Not only were they risking all they had built at their firm, but their decade-long friendship too.

The day passed in heightened anxiety, but she had a ton of loose ends from being in trial to handle. After a few hours, she was back into her groove, talking to clients and opposing counsel who had been on the backburner. That is, until he came by her office late in the afternoon.

***

Her down was open, and he sauntered down the hallway toward her office. As he approached, he could see through her doorway she was absorbed in what she was doing, eyes glued to her computer screen, typing away. He got close enough to cross over the threshold of her door, and her eyes snapped up to his. Without saying a word, he came in, turned around, and shut the heavy oak door behind him. Before he turned to face her, he paused for a second and snapped the lock shut with a soft "click." A thrill went through him when she flushed, stood up, and walked to him.

Without saying a word or pausing a beat, he crushed his lips to hers, running his hands all over her body. He swore she was purposely torturing him by wearing a tight pencil skirt, accentuating her ass exquisitely. He'd been thinking about that ass, and nothing else, all day.

She moaned softly when he cupped her ass, lifting her up and setting her on her large desk. Without breaking their kiss, he pushed her skirt hem up until her legs were free to part and he edged himself, fully hard through his pants, right up in between her legs. He could see the smooth silk of the panties she was wearing, her pussy lips visible through the thin fabric.

***

She could feel how hard he was already, but that did not compare to how soaking wet she was -- and had been all day. His hands were on either side of her jaw as he nibbled her bottom lips, bringing out another moan. He pulled back a few inches, looking at her face.

"This is a horrible idea," she said, breathless. "We can't do this here."

"You're right, you're right," he muttered, shaking his head a little bit and releasing her. When he stepped back a few feet, she hopped off the desk and rearranged her skirt.

"I honestly have been thinking of nothing else. I need to taste you again." He rubbed his hand over his face and turned to pace back and forth in her spacious office.

"I feel the same way. But I've worked too hard to fuck this up. We both have. We need to talk, set some ground rules," she said.

"Ok, let's go. Let's go grab a drink. That's a normal thing for us to do. We'll talk it out," he said.

She looked incredulous and glanced at the piles of unfinished work on her desk. "Right this second??"

He smiled with a look of calm defiance, as though he had already made up his mind without considering any other option. He just kept looking at her expectantly until she surrendered, moved to grab her purse, and followed him out the door.

***

As he ushered her out the door, he put his hand on the small of her back, steering her forward. She gritted her teeth at the contact, her pussy heating. Over the years, he had always done that to her -- a seemingly innocent gesture of chivalry and affection. She'd come to cherish the contact. She started wearing backless shirts and dresses just so that when he placed his hand, always in the same place in the small of her back, he would touch her skin.

They exited the office on foot, walking to their favorite "off-site" meeting spot in silence. Whenever they had to talk about something that shouldn't be overheard, like firm finances or HR issues, they gathered at this bar. The bar has a cozy, dimly lit atmosphere, with a quiet and intimate vibe that makes it an ideal setting for private conversations. The low murmur of background noise ensured that discussions remained discreet. The usual bartender was outstanding in both his service and giving the appearance that he heard nothing of their conversations.

***

He watched her slide smoothly onto the barstool and greet the bartender. His face lit up when he saw her, commenting on how long it had been. After a few minutes of small talk and a drink order, he disappeared. She angled towards him, crossing her legs so that one of her feet brushed his shin. Just that little bit of contact had blood rushing to his cock.

"Cheers." They clinked glasses, eyes on each other as they sipped.

He swallowed and set down his glass. "Listen. I want to make sure we're having an open and honest conversation because what's most important to me is that you are okay, that the firm is okay, and that you know I wouldn't do anything to hurt you." She nodded slightly, quiet. He leaned in and went on quietly, "In the spirit of honesty, that was amazing. I have been thinking about touching you, tasting you, and fucking you for so long. I have fantasized about that mouth of yours on my cock and bending you over my desk for years."

He reached out and put a hand on her thigh as he leaned in even closer, mere inches from her face. "The real thing was a thousand times better than any fantasy I could have come up with." He squeezed her thigh hard, and desire flicked across her face, eyes still glued to his.

"I feel the same way," she finally said, dragging her foot up and down his shin slowly. Her panties were soaking wet, and his hand was still firm on her thing. "So where do we go from here?"

He gave her a cheeky grin. "A hotel?" he asked.

She laughed and, with a hint of disappointment, said "No...too risky." As high-profile attorneys in this city, they knew too many people. Being out in public someplace without a valid reason for being there was just asking for disaster. "Let's let the dust settle, and if it's still something that's going to happen in the future, there's plenty of opportunities out of this city where we both know everyone -- and the consequences of messing up."

Part of why he liked and admired her so much was because she was smart, tough, and disciplined. If she could wait, so could he. They finished their drinks, talking in low voices about their favorite parts of their wild night. For him, it was the way she came. It was intense, like she gave all of herself over to it, writhing and arching off the bed. For her, it was climbing up to sit on his face, rubbing herself all over his open mouth. The way he ate her up was like he'd never tasted anything so good. When they were done, they walked back to the office slowly.

By the time they got back and split up to return to work, they were both so revved up it was pointless to even try to get anything done. He gave up and left. He could barely hold off getting to his car before he unbuttoned his pants, stoked his throbbing cock reliving the hot conversation and images rolling through his head. He rubbed one out, right there, in the dark parking garage. As he drove home, he was still thinking about her, and what she might be doing to herself that night.

***

A couple of weeks went by. Instead of awkwardness between them, they simply grew closer. They joked and laughed about normal things, sought each other out just to say hi or have lunch together. There was always an undertone of arousal there, but from the perspective of the people around them, it was business as usual.

She had not masturbated this much since she first discovered it as a teen. Multiple times a day, she was overcome with fantasies, thinking about both the things they had already done and the things she still wanted to do. The fact that they would occasionally talk in low voices about the things they want to do to each other was both torture and bliss. Her pussy would throb, demanding a release that she would give -- at home, in the shower, in her car, in the office. Whenever she had a free moment for release, she would plunge her fingers into her sopping wet pussy, rubbing circles around her clit, taking only a minute or two to cum.

They had a long Zoom mediation one day, working late into the evening to try to resolve a case for a client across the country. He worked from his office on his webcam, and she from hers. During the last mediation session, he had walked over to her office and stood behind her seated in the computer chair while they together talked on Zoom to the mediator, trying to get a deal wrapped up. It was past nine, and the office was empty.

While he stood behind her, he noticed that her sweater had a V shaped neckline in the back, dipping down to her shoulder blades. The front was quite modest, and he had not noticed the showing skin before. He couldn't help himself. While she was talking, and while they were both standing there on camera, he started to trace a line with his finger starting at the top of the V, all the way down, and back up the other side. He watched the camera to see if it caught any movement, and it didn't. As he glided his finger down her soft skin to her shoulder bones, she faltered at what she was saying, pausing for a second to start over. This went on for about 10 minutes, while they talked and listened to the mediator. He just brushed her back, slowly, and softly, up and down the edge of her sweater.

They were finally done and logging off the Zoom. She slammed her laptop closed and whirled around, getting to her feet, lips parted to say something. He silenced her by crushing his mouth to hers, a demanding kiss backed by weeks of pent-up sexual tension. She returned the kiss with equal fervor, gripping the front of his shirt with both hands.

"I cannot wait," she breathed. "I need you now. Is everyone gone?" She asked.

Letting go over her and swiftly walking to her door, he peered out into the dark hallway. All the lights were turned off. There was no one else who was going to stick around this late. He closed her door, locking it regardless.

He looked at her for a long moment and said, "we're alone."

He turned off her overhead light so no one could see in the window, although they were so high up that it would be nearly impossible to see them anyway. He left one side lamp burning low.

She crossed over to him in long quick strides, in the low light. They met again in a frantic embrace, breathless with their tongues dancing. When she bit his lip, he let out a low growl and pushed her up against the wall, lowering his mouth to nibble at her neck. She started desperately unbuttoning his shirt, swearing as her fingers fumbled. She gave up and grabbed for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and his pants, letting them drop to the floor.

He stepped out of them while lifting her sweater up over her head. Once her top was off, he grabbed the top of her bra and pulled down hard, exposing a nipple. He dipped his head down to drag his tongue across it. She was breathing hard and saying his name, over and over. He pulled down the other side of her bra and raked his teeth over her nipple, biting a little bit, sending a shot of pain and pleasure straight to her core. She grabbed the back of his head, forcing him to straighten up and kiss her again. She was still pressed up against the wall.

While they were kissing, he unbuttoned her pants and eased them over her hips, taking her panties with them. Immediately, his fingers went to her slit and found her soaking yet. On the contact, she moaned into his mouth.

Feeling how wet she was, he didn't think -- he just grabbed her by the shoulders, spun her around so she was facing away from him, and pushed her chest down to her desk. Holding one hand on the back of her neck, he plunged his fingers into her pussy from behind, earning him a breathless "oh my God," as she grabbed the edge of the desk to brace herself.

"You are so fucking wet," he whispered. He finger fucked her for a minute, enjoying the sloshing sound and tight heat of her pussy. "Don't cum, not yet."

Still holding her neck, he withdrew his fingers and used one hand to pull down his underwear, releasing his rock-hard cock. Without any warning, he slammed into her, making her cry out. He withdrew and plunged again, and again, slamming her against the hard desk.

***

She wasn't sure exactly what sounds she was making, but she thought at one point she might have sobbed out his name. The top of her bra was still pulled down, and as he pumped into her, her hard nipples rubbed over the cold wood of her desk. When he reached around and started rubbing her clit in time with his relentless thrusts, she couldn't hold on any longer. She came hard, crying out and grasping the table trying to remain upright. He felt her hot pussy contract around her cock and followed her, calling out her name as he filled her up, slowing down and bending over to rest his head on her bare back. They stayed like that for a few moments, catching their breath and returning to reality.

As he withdrew, they both sat down and leaned back against her desk, hands clasped.

"I thought your fantasy was bending me over your desk, not mine," she said with a smile.

He laughed. "We'll get there."