Five Oclock Shadows

Friday afternoon, what a terrible bore. Doesn't it seem like it will never end, the clock moving impossibly slowly, the bar across the street crying for your business?

I pass your desk, lean over your cubicle wall and see you playing "Free Cell" for probably the hundredth time, your eyes glazed over. I raise my eyebrow and mouth "I'll be back," knowing I can come up with a much better way to amuse you.

I stride casually to the ladies room and slide my black lace thong down my long shapely legs, clad now only in black lace-top thigh-highs, your favorites. I stuff them into the pocket of my suit jacket, leaving the ladies room and stride purposefully past your cubicle, asking you for the "Miller file" or some such nonsense. You hand it to me, and I thank you, dropping the panties on your desk.

Just then, I spy our boss coming round the corner, so I decide to take a stroll back out to the coffee-room. I smile to myself, though, knowing that I'll be back before the day's end, and wonder if you'd pocketed the panties in time.

Sipping a cup of terrible machine-coffee, I casually wander back over to your cubicle. In a bustling insurance-company corporate-headquarters office like our own, people are preoccupied, busy; especially at the end of the quarter. On a typical Friday afternoon, that preoccupation extends to getting the hell out the door and off to Happy Hour.

So it's no great surprise that no one sees me slip into your cubicle (a bit larger and better-appointed than the others, given your position at the company), and crouch quietly under your desk. This is no small feat, given the length of my legs and the three-inch heels and the short-skirt suits that you, me and our boss seem to love me in, giving me a full on view of your lovely pleated casual-Friday pants and your soon-to-be opened fly.

You quickly smile down at me, glancing at my bare pussy between my lace topped stockings, and I see that you did manage to successfully stash my panties after all, catching a glimpse of them as you pull them from your pocket, resting your hand on your thigh.

I am soon to discover, to my great amusement, that the end of the week also appears to mean the end of laundry, and "casual" Friday seems to mean that your traditional boxer-briefs have been replaced by what is commonly known as "going Commando." I suppress a small giggle as your naked cock appears from behind your zipper.

Now, don't betray yourself. Just keep typing and smiling at your colleagues as they pass by.

Don't look down too often, because you'll see my dark eyes gazing up at you from under your desk, as I gently guide your stiffening cock out of pants, through the fly with my soft hands and stroke it gently as I move it towards my full, pouty red lips.

You'll feel my take your head into my mouth as I run my tongue around the end in slow circles. Try not to gasp when I taste the sweet first drops of pre-come forming at the very end in anticipation of what is soon to happen.

Put your damn leftover morning coffee down, it's cold anyway. But feel free to finish mine, I seem to have forgotten it atop your desk. Keep reading your email as I slide your rock-hard cock deeper into my hot, wet mouth and start sucking on it, gently at first, the wet noises of my mouth and tongue drowned out by the hum of your computer.

Go ahead, let one hand drift downwards and stroke my long, soft, pretty hair that I've freed from its usual clipped-back "working" state, as my head moves back and forth over your throbbing hard cock as I suck and lick it from inside my mouth, my hands on your strong Dockers-clad thighs. Feel me moaning on you, feel my mouth vibrating on your trembling cock.

Nobody knows what the hell is going on but you and me, and it's completely amazing. Yes, you do look a little pale, are you under the weather? Where's she? Off to do some research, no doubt. Nobody's the wiser.

Wave to the mailroom guy as he drops that pile of envelopes on your desk right above my head as I shift underneath your desk and begin to finger myself under my short tight skirt, my legs twisted awkwardly underneath me. Not so twisted, though, that you can't see me sliding my fingers inside my damp cunt as you steal a peek underneath.

Try not to groan too loud, as I feel you swelling up inside my mouth as i suck harder and faster, my hand rhythmically stroking the base of your cock as my lips wrap around the end, moving more rapidly now back and forth. As I feel you grow bigger and bigger, I can barely contain you inside my hot mouth, and begin to moan as you push my head down hard on your pulsing shaft, pushing deep inside me.

Your fingers tangled in my hair pushing my head down on you in one hard deep thrust, makes me moan with incredible pleasure. I push two fingers deep inside me and clench my legs together under the tight confines of the desk. As you shoot wave after wave of come into my mouth and deep down my throat I feel myself powerfully spasm, coming hard right along with you.

The five-o-clock commotion of people putting on jackets, snapping briefcases and such hides our own commotion nicely.

If I were you, I wouldn't get up, for a little while...

I'll pretend I stopped by for these files, right here, as I walk back to my desk. In a little while...