The Office

Office parties aren't my thing, but he is. We only nodded in the hallway, but I remember his beautiful blue eyes always shied away from me. So, I was shocked when he invited me to the party. I couldn't resist his charm and agreed.

It wasn't until later in the evening that I realised he was calm, dressed as chaos.

Instead of doom-scrolling until the wee hours, I browsed his social media. He was always on a beach, ripped on Rip Curl. Even his abs were happy. I hearted only one photo—a close-up of his deep blue eyes, which easily camouflaged the sea.

The glass walls of the office were the perfect host to summer heat. I scanned the crowd for him and spotted the next best thing — a bar. The bartender poured me a Chardonnay as I played with the unevenness of my white halter top. The first sip of the chilled glass of wine consoled my parched lips.

"Hey!" a familiar voice drew me in.

"I'm sorry. I was busy ensuring everyone had enough to drink and things were as planned." Even the apology was charming.

"Well, everyone looks sober, hot, and bored. You've got a long evening ahead of you". I teased him.

"I have an adventure planned for us later. Nice shorts." His gaze lingered. With the promise to find me later, he walked towards a group of familiar faces.

I stare at his perfect ass longer than I should.

For the rest of the evening, he doesn't leave my sight.

My fingers run along the stem of the glass as they would through his luscious hair. A bout of laughter from another corner of the room breaks the spell, but my eyes wander back to him.

His perfectly groomed beard highlights the symmetry of his chiselled face.

It's been two glasses of wine since I last saw him. My stomach is gurgling, but I am in no mood for the cheese and grapes piled mercilessly on the charcuterie board. So, I scan the room for something substantial.

Ah! There it is, an old-school ice cream machine. Was it misplaced in this modern office or added for a retro vibe? I hastily pull down the lever, and my eyes follow the soft swirl of vanilla and strawberry filling the cone.

Ummmm, yum. Two big licks and the sweet, gooey goodness have already touched my soul. I have just begun to satiate my hunger when he asks, "Shall we?" Without waiting for an answer, he leads me away from the crowd.

He is up to no good.

We walked towards a corridor that I swear I had never seen before. He swipes a card, and the gloomy door is flung open.

I am standing before the grey and white sea of office furniture.

What can someone plan in the most boring place ever?

He catches me licking the ice cream.

"You're really into it", he smiles.

"Would you like… ?" Before I can finish the offer, he envelopes my cold, sweet lips with his tongue. His tongue weaves magic, leaving me breathless.

We haven't been in it long, and I instinctively run my palm over his linen pants.

This isn't me. I never move so fast. There's something about Max.

I feel him hardening.

Our eyes meet.

I unzip his pants and follow my curiosity inside his boxers. He leans back without breaking our gaze.

I kneel and drip the leftover soft serve on him.

That's one way to finish my favourite dessert.

The boxer is down on his feet. I run my tongue from the base of his cock to the tip a few times, licking the ice cream off of him.

My wicked mouth doesn't want to release him yet, but we must play this game a little longer. I circle the tip a few times before kissing and sucking it.

He moans, and his fingers mingle with my hair.

No, I don't respond to nudges. I do as my lips, please.

I suck his left ball and give the same tenderness to the other one. I lick the base of his erection once again. He breathes deeper and lets go of my hair.

That's more like it…

My fingers join the fun and trace his veins.. back and forth. His chuckle breaks our intensity.

The softness of my palm envelopes his cock, and my lips follow the palm.

He wants some more.

I take his cock and slide it back of my throat. Slowly sucking it, then licking it and loving it some more. He looks at me once again, and I suck him harder and faster.

Sss.. he frowns.

I slow down, but the improper desire of my mind is to devour him. I kiss the tip of his throbbing cock. My lips have a language of their own, and his moan is a sign to release me.

With vengeance in his eyes and a firm grip, he pulls me up and places me on the table, like the object of his addiction.

He spreads the barely there fabric of my shorts and enters through the gaping space.

My body surges with ecstasy. I dig my nails into his chiselled back and curve my legs around his hips.

His breath rains on the nape of my neck. My fingers jostle through his locks and guide his lips to mine. Oh, I have waited far too long to taste them. Our tongues are lost in each other.

His thrusts match my breath, and his gaze desires my soul.

"I love fucking you, Nora" he grunts.

I respond to the compliment by tightening my grip. He swings his hips slightly from left to right, and my back arches to this new sensation.

"Oh, Nora".. he climaxes and sinks into me.

My legs loosen their grip on him, and I become aware of the heat between us.

I slide my fingers along the imprint of my nails. He doesn't wince.

"Don't worry, I will be fine by the next office party", he mumbles with his face still buried in my tits.

"Max, I am not waiting. I will see you at the crack of dawn in my bed," I declared.

He leaves a deep purple promise on the most tender part of my neck.