Overtime

We had only been officially dating for about two weeks, but we'd been circling around each other for months in advance. Never sure, never committing, just flirting and giving glances across the room. I'd "accidentally" flash you when I got out of the shower, you'd "accidentally" leave your door open a crack when you masturbated. And even though we'd been dating for those two weeks, we'd still barely touched. Oh, you'd touch me, but you'd never let me return the favor.

Do you know how frustrating that was?

To always know you were there, to want to put my hands on you, to never trust myself? The one time you let me, you pinned me up against the refrigerator and plunged your hands into my pants. Just before I came, I slid down between your body and the cold metal sides of the fridge, and put myself at eye-level with your cock. I think I more surprised you than you let me touch you, because before I could get your zip all the way down, you'd pulled away.

But that was a week and a half ago, and I still hadn't gotten any further with you. You'd spread me out on the bed and fingered me until I came, but I still had no notion of what you had going on than the first day we kissed. Most girls would dream of this scenario: a guy who only gives them pleasure, and never asks for anything in return. I'm not most girls. I'd lay in bed at night dreaming of what I could do to you, wondering what it would take.

This Saturday, you got a call that you needed to go into the office for a few hours, and since we were set for a date that evening, I just tagged along. We agreed we'd just go straight to the movies afterward. You planted me at a computer, told me that your office didn't have a firewall so I didn't need to worry myself about what sites I looked at, and you disappeared into the depths of the warehouse. That was the first time I discovered Literotica. And I was hooked.

I don't remember what all I looked at that day, but I do remember periodically popping my head up to look out the window to see if you were there, because I didn't want to get caught touching myself. I must have come four or five times before you finally emerged—after only about 20 minutes.

You stopped behind me, to see what I was doing, and I wasn't quite quick enough to close the window. You put your hand over mine, to halt my desperate clicking of the mouse, and just started reading. It only took you a few seconds to get the gist, and you waggled your eyebrows at me, pinched my nipple, and wandered off into the other office to get started on that paperwork.

What, I thought, does it take to get his attention?! Determined, I stood up, smoothed my skirt in back and discovered the fabric was damp. I checked the office chair, to see if I'd left any telltale signs of my activities—nothing to worry about. I walked over to where you were, and you were clueless. You looked up, vacantly, patted me on the hand, and went back to reading a document. I'm pretty sure you weren't snubbing me, but it certainly felt like it.

I spun your chair around, knelt in front of you, and attacked the front of your pants. Nope, you weren't nearly as unaffected as you pretended. You were incredibly hard, and there was a spot on the front of your jeans. I looked up, grinning, as you babbled some protest I didn't bother listening to. I clamped my hands down on yours over the arms of the chair, and informed you that I'd stop if you really wanted me to, but I wanted my mouth on you, and I was not willing to wait any longer.

You blinked owlishly at me, mouth slightly open, panting, and finally, finally whispered what I wanted to hear: "Okay".

I opened your fly, and saw your cock for the first time. I had only seen two or three before, even in health class, so I explored for a while first. It jerked a little with your pulse, and when I touched it, a little drop of precum gleamed on the crown. The skin was incredibly silky, like nothing I'd ever felt before. You had a small bend to the shaft, going just slightly to the right. You were babbling incoherently, at just this much contact.

God, that was hot.

I stopped touching you, until you looked down at me. I held your eye as I ever so slowly lowered my mouth onto your cock. Your pupils had dilated until your eyes were nearly black, and you were sweating. You looked so...shocked and desperate and aroused, and that only got me hotter. Wetter. More eager.

Your hips shoved upward as I opened my lips, and my first taste of your cock was you tunneling into my throat. It only took a few seconds before you came, and you gasped your apologies to me. I just kept my hand on your dick until you calmed down. You were already hard again. I asked you if I could keep going, even if you didn't come, and you were back to being incoherent.

I took that as a yes, and licked you. I tilted the head onto my tongue, and ever so slowly slid down, until my lips were firmly sealed against the root of your cock, your balls resting against my chin. I didn't learn until later that doing that was particularly impressive—I just wanted as much of you as I could get, and I wanted it all at once. I was whimpering myself as I slid up until just the head was in my mouth. I lashed my tongue back and forth, trying to figure out what made you make the most noise. I wrapped my hand around the rest, squeezing and rolling my fingers.

I'd just found a particularly good spot to pay attention to when the phone rang. You made a strangled noise, dug your hands into my hair, and pulled me off of you to tell me that it was your boss and you had to answer it. I sat back, feeling pleased with myself, looking at you trying to muster the coordination to pick up the phone, looking at your cock still bobbing for attention.

When your boss was finally on the line, I could actually hear him through the phone. Loud man, your boss. He asked what had taken so long for you to pick up, and I smiled to myself as you stammered some bullshit explanation. He grunted, but seemed to accept it. I waited for you to get off the phone, but after a few minutes, I could tell this was going to be a while. You kept your fingers tangled in my hair, and all I could think was that you'd told me to entertain myself. So I did. There you were, you poor guy, getting your first blowjob while trying to field questions from your boss.

I didn't hold back, either. I did everything I could, to get you to come. I had a lot of fun doing it, too. You started to sound hoarse, your answers got more and more clipped, and you had to pull the phone away from your mouth because you were panting. Eventually, you hung up, and you simultaneously shoved my head down onto your cock, coming instantly.

Your taste filled my mouth, salty, bitter, tangy. You tasted like desperation and desire. Your legs were shaking, and you came for what seemed like forever. I know, I know, the books all say a guy doesn't come all that much at once, but I think you did that day. I had to swallow, again and again, and some still stayed on my lips.

I waited until you were able to look at me again, and very deliberately licked my lips, so you could see it. You groaned out a thank you, still breathless. I smiled, stood up, and kissed you gently. I whispered that you should get back to work, and I walked away.