Office Reunion

Workplace and office fucks are things of imagination, a fantasy, but for me, it has become a reality because I like to take risks. I've had sex in tiny, crowded cubicles, over a desk facing a wall in an open office and in large private offices with executive bathrooms, depending on where I have been working and at what point in my career, because I've been adventurous all my life, from office girl to senior management to being self-employed, which is the best position to be in as I am not based in a single company, travelling around, not constrained by the same faces day to day, or office gossip.

As a sexually adventurous woman, I've consistently broken the list of unspoken work rules. You should never date (fuck) a co-worker (or workers, in my case, on several occasions). You shouldn't date (fuck) contractors, clients, or, I'm guessing, display yourself naked in the office and let a co-worker(s) watch as you bring yourself to orgasm while they masturbate over you. You shouldn't, apparently, ever fuck or walk around naked at work, but I have done all of those things when the opportunity arose.

One such situation came with a visit from a client I had known for a long time. We'd had fun at a party years before when I had stripped for him and his friends (stripping, my first time). Nothing had happened at the party other than me putting on a show, but we had been flirting over the phone, and he'd voiced regret at not joining in when I had been masturbating in front of him and his friends.

We'd met a few times through conferences. He was still the friendly chap I'd known from when I was a young office girl, and I knew from how he looked me over, the flirty chat and the probing questions that he would fuck me if given a chance. Who was I to deprive him?

While chatting professionally about contracts, I whispered a dare. "I'm bored. Why don't you come to my office and fuck me, seeing as you were too shy to do it years ago?" As an incentive and to let him know I wasn't joking, I tucked my panties into his jacket pocket before walking away.

I didn't have to wait long. He walked into my office, closed the door, pushed me over the desk without a word and pulled my dress up. His fingers stroked over my pussy, a thumb invading my lips as his fingers curled up, cupping my sex and rubbing my clit, making me gasp.

I could see the lust in his eyes in the window's reflection as he undid his trousers and pressed his cock to my sex, jerking me forward with the force of his first thrust, my legs pressed against the edge of the desk. Holding my hips, he pushes hard against me while reaching around to finger my clit, thrusting his cock deep inside until I shake in the throes of an intense orgasm that words don't really capture.

He picks up the pace as I come down, soon bringing me to another peak, my pussy squeezing tight around him, the lips wrapped around his shaft, my labia tugging on the stroke back. He pulls out as he feels his climax approach, unsure if he should cum in me.

As his cock slips from my pussy I kneel, taking him in my mouth and wrap my lips tight around his cock, swirling my tongue around the head, tasting both of us. I use my mouth in time with my hand until he pushes down on my shoulders, trying to move away. But I hold him with a firmer grip and work his shaft until the first spurts of his cum fill my mouth. He says, "No," but I do anyway, taking all he has, swallowing every last drop.

Once it is over, we clean up and return to being professionals. The only sign of our rendezvous is the knowing looks that pass between us.

Just another kind of contract satisfied.