I'm sitting in our dining room, a well lit room covered in feelings of comfort and trust. I'm on the phone to my manager (Mr Glase), sorting out the paperwork for next term. I was facing the table, all of my folders for work, they're piled up. Sitting there in my grey shorts, blue t-shirt and no bra. I'm comfortable but so stressed. a cold, sunny but damp day. Mid Autumn, orange leaves scattered outside our front door. Looking outside the windows I see the street lights turn on, a lit up snake covering our town slowly. I instantly look to see if your car is anywhere to be seen. Mumbling to Mr Glase, I hear the front door open and close with a gust of wind hitting the coats. I hear "I'm home babe, want a takeaway?", A slight grin comes on my face. Mr Glase asks me "have you talked to Sam about the meeting we had", answering "Yes", I hoped I could end the call. I longed to have you in my arms. Mr Glase started asking more questions, you could see I was becoming more stressed out. I started tapping my leg, hitting my pen on the table. An ombre of stresses placed on the tabletop, a reminder of the marking and planning I haven't done. I sat back in my chair, looking at the ceiling lights, counting how many bulbs I could see over and over. Finally, I feel your hands press on my shoulders, sliding down to my stomach, at that same point, a kiss to the top of my head reassures me. I grab your arm and start to stroke it, grinning. Before long, I drop my glass, a simple smash but it isn't too messy. Some of the drink landed on my pyjama top and shorts, an off grey smudge forming on my chest and upper thighs. You move to the rescue, grabbing some paper towels and moping the floor around my feet. I carry on talking to Mr Glase, watching you sweep circles around my feet.
I feel a kiss on my leg next to my knee, I see you move the towels apart. Suddenly I feel my legs slam open, I look down to see you kissing my thigh. Making eye contact with you; I know I'm about to lose all sense of control. Putting my phone onto loud speaker, placing it onto the desk I whisper "come here baby". I don't fight you, as you move my body further down in the chair. You move further up my body, kissing my stomach, bring me closer, hands behind my back keeping me up. Your mouth meets the inside of my boobs, you start to softly bite the inside side of my right boob. I moan with surprise. I wasn't expecting that. Mr Glase asks "Have you updated your folders?", I could speak about this for hours, and you know it. You've sat there before with me on call for hours about colours and whatnot. But this time I simply answered "yes". By this time, you had taken my shorts and panties off. Biting my thighs, I looked down at you.
I wanted to touch you, I couldn't resist. Hearing Mr Glase asking multiple questions, me answering in moans... all yeses. You played with my clit using your tongue, causing me to flinch at every touch. You can feel how wet I am, I can't deny anymore how much I need you. How much I need to have you to myself. As I get closer, I pull you up, move my chair further away from the desk. I start to kiss you, our tongues meeting at every opportunity possible. I bite your lower lip making you moan into my mouth. At this point, Mr Glase is nothing more than a murmur in the background. I grab your throat tightly, bringing you further away from me, giving me the opportunity to bite your collarbone. I bite playfully, knowing how you want more from me. I bite one more time before moving to your ear. I hear you start to struggle with breathing, leaving hand marks on your throat. red marks is our symbol of our desperation when wanting to please ourselves. I start to push you down, until you're laying under the table. Hitting my head on the way down. I choose to place my fingers inside of you, feeling how wet you are as I do so.
"Hello, are you still there?", a question by Mr Glase bringing me back to reality. I didn't answer, my tongue being too busy. I'm sure he can hear you moan, louder and louder. You start reaching for my back, something to claw at. You can only reach my shoulders, leaving lines like bar-codes. I start to feel you're close, so close. I see your breathing change, quicker and quicker... shorter and shorter. My fingers inside of you, knowing you clenching and pulsing around them. It's time for you to cum. Should I let you or ruin it? Waste one so I can have mine? My head goes crazy with decisions, this time I will let you cum. Let Mr Glase hear you loud and proud. Red marks on my shoulders, a hand mark on your throat, it's my turn now.
I finally listen to what Mr Glase is talking about, not knowing how to switch off a call I realise he is having dinner with his family. Wife and 2 sons. Hearing "How was school today?" clearly and a murmur of chatter is pursued. You realise that you have the biggest opportunity for my manager and his family to hear me. I'm still soaking wet, naked grinding my hips on yours. I'm desperate for your touch not noticing that I am doing it. You flip us over, I'm laying flat on the floor, legs spread waiting for you to make your move. As you got to work, I started to moan faster and faster, I needed you to let me cum but I couldn't produce the words for it. I thought screaming could help you know I wanted more. Using your tongue, you knew I couldn't stop myself from moaning your name loudly. Mr Glase's wife asks "What is that noise". We can hear the family move around trying to find the source of the noises you've made me. As I start to cum, you can feel me pulse around your fingers, my breathing changes. Finally I can relax
