I'm a 33 year old law recruiter in a relatively small office. I work pretty long and intense hours, but I'm good at what I do. I've dated here and there (had a longer term relationship or two), but let's face it...for me, right now, work comes first.
So I was, to put it mildly, annoyed when we got the boss's memo that his 21 year old son would be coming to work for us for the summer. I'd seen these scenarios before, and inevitably, the slacker college kid ended up making twice the work for all of us while he screwed around on the internet all day and we bit our tongues and looked the other way.
But after commiserating with my closest friend and co-worker, we realized we there probably wasn't much of an alternative, and decided to suck it up.
He arrived the following Monday. Tall, dark-haired, a cocky grin (big surprise) on his face. He grabbed my hand and shook it...and was it my imagination that his hand lingered a little longer on mine? Didn't matter. I brusquely showed him around, pointed him to his desk. Dusted my hands and made a wish that we'd all get through the summer as quickly and easily as possible. And then back to work.
A few hours later, I glanced up, and he was standing at my desk. "Need something?" I muttered, my eyes still pulled toward my email inbox.
"I had a question about this database I'm working on...could you come take a look?"
Slightly annoyed at being pulled away from my work, I walked to his desk. CDs were spread in front of it. I couldn't help but check out who he was listening to...and surprisingly, they were some of my favorites.
I fixed the problem he was having, and then suddenly, inexplicably, we were chatting.
And that was how it began, and continued. I found my perceptions being challenged about him. He was intelligent, thoughtful. We definitely didn't see eye to eye on some things. But I would often catch myself in the middle of a debate with him, appreciating his passionate mind. Again, though, I shook it off. Boss's son. Just conversation.
Until that day.
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It was just the two of us in the office--Kay was out sick, and Danny was on sales calls. I was doing my daily numbers report, and caught him looking over at me.
"What?" I asked.
"You know," he said slowly, an inscruitable look in his eye, "I was wondering if you're dating someone."
"Not that it's any of your business," I retorted smartly, my heart lurching a little at the unexpectedness of the question, "but...no. I've kind of got a full plate at the moment."
"Really?" He stood up from his chair, approaching my desk, then stood next to me and looked down. "Too busy for fun, good conversation...sex?"
Did he notice my sharp intake of breath?
"I'm so not going there with you."
"Going where?" His nonchalance was studied, almost too casual.
"There. Talking about...this." I felt sweat trickling down the back of my knee.
He leaned down, grinning, then gripped my wrists in his strong hands. "Who said anything about talking?"
******************************************
Two weeks later.
He sits at his desk, legs spread slightly apart. My skirt's hiked up around my waist as I slowly, exquisitely slide myself up and down his cock. I'm dripping wet, and he's hugely turgid. He's moaning quietly. We're both sure at any moment someone's going to burst through the door and surprise us both.
But I don't want to stop. My clit is aching, his tongue is in my mouth, my hand is stroking his balls in 4/4 time. "Fuck" he whispers. I impale myself on him more deeply, slowly circling my hips, taking him further inside me. "Fuck!" he says louder, against my mouth. "God, please don't stop, I'm gonna come so hard..."
His finger is teasing and stroking my clit, even as he's coming. We move faster, writing against each other. It's unbearably good.
We collapse.
I immediately hop off him, adjusting myself quickly. "You realize how wrong this is on so many levels," I say.
He looks up at me with that devilish glint in his eye. "Isn't that part of the fun?"