Office Romance

It all started with a drink. I'm not usually one of those girls who are anyone's after a couple of chardonnays, but this evening was different. And I'm glad I binned my prim and proper image for an evening – look where it's got me.

We were going out to celebrate a colleague's birthday. It was nothing special, just people from work. I bought my friend a birthday cocktail, and had a glass of wine to keep her company. Then one of the blokes bought us both a drink – the second one of the evening, the one I hadn't meant to have – and I felt my barriers starting to drop.

As we moved on to the restaurant, I shyly took the second-drink-guy's arm to steady me. I was hungry and the wine had gone to my head a bit. I knew I'd be fine when I got something to eat, though. I hoped he didn't mind me leaning on him.

When we arrived the drink guy, Harry, shuffled into the seat next to me. Having settled on my starter and main, I laid down the menu and made my first proper appraisal of him. Tall and with dark, slightly spiky hair, he was not my usual type. Not my type, in the sense that I was usually too intimidated by such good looks to approach a man that looked this hot. Some people call it low self-esteem, I call it self-preservation – knock backs are not good for a fragile girly ego. But this one seemed different. Maybe it was because I was just being myself and too busy to be shy or stand-offish, but as he made conversation and told a few silly jokes, Harry seemed genuinely interested in me.

It was so difficult having the meal while sitting next to him. When I fancy men I find it really hard to eat in front of them. Not only do I become incredibly self-conscious of every mouthful, but I become nervous to the point of nausea. So for one of the few times in my life, I didn't even look at the dessert menu. So the meagre meal I ate didn't really soak up the alcohol, and it didn't help that I was drinking more wine as I compensated for not eating.

I was getting much tipsier that I anticipated. Usually I'm such a sensible person at work, and I think my colleagues were quite amused when I finally let my hair down. Harry on the other hand was less amused than aroused. When his hand wandered on to my thigh, a thrill ran right up my leg and straight to my groin; I couldn't believe he was doing it. It wasn't just the physical sensation, but the intellectual one of believing he was so far out of my league, that was such a turn on.

We left the restaurant in a gaggle. I don't remember paying the bill, though we must have. Harry's arm was round me, guiding me into a nearby bar where the last remnant of the evening group was gathered. As I sat on a bar stool he was behind me, hands round my waist, discreetly stroking my back and caressing my hair.

At last he whispered in my ear, "I can't stand this much longer. I want to take you home."

I felt my heart race and my cheeks flush as I thought about what was going to happen. Before I had a chance to think too much, however, he had taken my hand. He said goodnight to the others, telling them he was taking me to the taxi rank, and led me out of the bar.

We walked back to his flat through the cool summer evening. It was only a short walk and there wasn't much need to talk. We paused once, by the edge of a park, when he spun me around to face him and kissed me gently on the lips. My knees buckled and I knew this evening could only end one way.

When we arrived at his home, Harry let us in and led me up the stairs to his small lounge. He offered me a drink but I declined, too turned on to think of anything other than getting his clothes off and having him take me as soon as possible.

But he seemed more reluctant now we were back on his territory, more tentative in his movements towards me.

"What's the matter?" I asked, with the courage lent by a pair of vodka and lemonades.

"I'm just a bit worried," he said. "That maybe you'll regret this in the morning."

He looked up at me through soft, long eyelashes and I couldn't help but smile.

"No way," I said. Drawing him close, I began to unbutton his shirt, and run my hands up his smooth, taut torso. He moaned with pleasure and began to undress me, slipping my dress over my shoulders and unfastening my bra. With strong arms he pressed me backwards into his bedroom, forced me on to the bed and rained a hundred kisses on my stomach, working his way downwards until he reached my small white knickers. Looking me up and staring me in the eyes as he did so, he pulled them down and bent again to kiss between my legs and slowly start to lick me.

His tongue was strong and firm and as his lips moved against my clit I had to lay back and give in to his rhythm. Before long he began to concentrate on my clit more intensely with his tongue, and then he slipped two fingers inside me and began to rock them back and forth, massaging my g spot until I came with loud moans.

It seemed like hours I was lying there in a state of pure arousal, but after I came I awoke from my trance and pushed him off me, so that he was now lying on the bed. I pulled his jeans down past his huge erection and carefully removed his underwear. I got down on my knees by the side of the bed and start to kiss and lick his cock. I moved my tongue up and down and slipped it underneath his foreskin making him gasp, then put my whole mouth over his head and slowly began to lower myself down onto him. His cock was so big that it was tricky at first but eventually I held the whole thing in my mouth, pressing him against the back of my throat and slipping the base back and forth past my lips.

Eventually he had enough and, about to come, asked me to stop so he could fuck me properly. And he did. He bent me over the bed and slipped his erection inside my hot wet pussy, filling me with easy strokes and making me gasp with each movement. Grabbing my hair masterfully with one hand and my hip with the other, he rode me hard, and I could feel my orgasm building again. Slowing his pace, he let go of my hair and slipped his hand to my clit, rubbing in time with his strokes. I couldn't help but come, in powerful waves, and then I felt his hot cum spurting inside me and he let out a deep, satisfied groan.

Later, we lay on the bed in each other's arms and he fell asleep as he held me. Later still, although I wanted to stay and enjoy our mutual satiation, I slipped from the room and called a taxi home. There was work tomorrow and my sensible side was starting to arise from the drink-induced slut I had been for the evening.

***

So this morning here I am at my desk. My hair is perfectly coiffed, my lipstick painstakingly applied. Despite my hangover, I have written an extensive task list for the team and I intend it all to be done. I am back to myself – in control of myself, in command of my team, and in work mode.

Shaking off the clinging memories of last night, I call my new assistant, who's only been here a week, over to my desk.

"You can start with making me a coffee," I say.

"Yes boss," replies Harry. But for some reason I don't think he's taking me too seriously today.