(no subject)
Mary Sue-age under the cut and done in one go.
I officially hate Fridays. All they mean now is two days alone where even the slight relief of a vibrator only serves to make me more miserable. Blue balls for women isn't solved with an orgasm alone; it's a long process of dedicated recovery.
So when Carlos sauntered into my office, I wanted to strangle him. It was hard enough to get through the day as it was and I really didn't want to deal with any of his playfulness. His friendly hug and stroke down my arm as he kindly told me how nice I looked made me fight back a sigh of temporary relief. I know I was barely friendly, but I felt justified with it since I'd been hard up for days.
"You look tense," he said as he plopped down in MY chair in front of MY computer with all my spreadsheets on it.
I just glared at him and started to putter around. "I really need to get done here."
I could feel him watching me. I knew I was getting worked up over nothing, but it sure as hell didn't feel like nothing. I slumped onto my hands and sighed with my eyes shut. "Carlos."
"I'm not stopping you."
Fine. I hate sitting in people's laps, but I was too frustrated to care. I perched as lightly as possible on the edge of his knee and tried to ignore him as I started to type. Until he reached up and massaged my shoulders. I moaned accidentally before I launched myself away from him.
"Don't."
He was half-way out of the chair, but was moving slowly and cautiously. He didn't know what the tension was, but was approaching it and me with care. "You get so knotted up that I thought I'd help. You're always complaining about your back."
I just stared at him as he got closer until I finally had to swat away the hand that was reaching for my shoulders again. I was breathing hard and unwittingly backing myself into a corner. I knew he figured it out when I was pressed flush to a wall and he wasn't stopping. He leaned into me and breathed deep as I flushed a deep pink.
He ran a single finger down my neck. "Let me help you."
I would have succeeded in throwing him off had he not been expecting it. Instead he countered just where he knew I was weak. He pinned me to the wall and said it again sweetly, though I knew it wasn't a question. Especially when he ran his hand firmly down the sore muscles of my back and I melted into him. He massaged deeply into my lower back and pushed me flush against him. I rested my head against his shoulder and he stroked my cheek with his like a cat. I gave up then. It was inevitable.
I gripped his arms, his shoulders, neck, hair, everything within reach as he kissed and rubbed his way downward until my shirt was open and my pants strewn on the floor. Carlos stood and gazed at me for a minute before smearing his finger over the moisture on my lips and stroking down my inner thighs. He held my face up with his hand on the back of my neck as his fingers started to play over my clit and through the slickness between my lips.
I didn't care if I sounded like I was choking. "In me."
And he obliged. I hadn't felt anything that heavenly in so long that I felt near tears. I could care less if I sounded like any of his whores; I was being pleasured by a man who not only knew what he was doing, but wanted to do it.
"Harder." My hands had been wandering weakly under his jacket, flipping buttons as I went, but I clutched the arm straps of his holsters when he obeyed.
He smirked and massaged the back of my neck, bringing his face closer to mine. "Like that, baby? You want it faster too?" He pressed me harder into the wall and licked my lower lip. He waited until I was weak, struggling to stand as I tugged helplessly at his holster, breathing too hard to moan. Then he struck. "You think it'd feel good if I sucked on your clit? You want my tongue, baby?"
He put one of my legs of his shoulder and used his left hand to pin my hips to the wall. His tongue did feel good on my clit. Good enough to where I couldn't control my hands from fisting hair or fabric or anything else under them with weak, searching hands. His right hand was still working furiously, finger fucking me hard and fast as his tongue flicked my clit faster and faster.
I wasn't so much moaning then as I was growling and mewling for more. It was too good and finally, finally, just enough. I came with a yelp and several deep moans, twitching around his neck and tongue, holding his shoulders for dear life. His tongue and fingers wrenched the last few minutes of moans and sighs from me before he stood up and held me to him.
He let me lick the last traces of myself from his lips, and I let him kiss me in return. It really wasn't bad at all- a soft, searching, relaxing kiss from a sweet, relaxed man. I opened my eyes to find him looking at me and smiling. Not the Carlos D smirk. Not something triumphant. Just happy. And I smiled back.
I officially hate Fridays. All they mean now is two days alone where even the slight relief of a vibrator only serves to make me more miserable. Blue balls for women isn't solved with an orgasm alone; it's a long process of dedicated recovery.
So when Carlos sauntered into my office, I wanted to strangle him. It was hard enough to get through the day as it was and I really didn't want to deal with any of his playfulness. His friendly hug and stroke down my arm as he kindly told me how nice I looked made me fight back a sigh of temporary relief. I know I was barely friendly, but I felt justified with it since I'd been hard up for days.
"You look tense," he said as he plopped down in MY chair in front of MY computer with all my spreadsheets on it.
I just glared at him and started to putter around. "I really need to get done here."
I could feel him watching me. I knew I was getting worked up over nothing, but it sure as hell didn't feel like nothing. I slumped onto my hands and sighed with my eyes shut. "Carlos."
"I'm not stopping you."
Fine. I hate sitting in people's laps, but I was too frustrated to care. I perched as lightly as possible on the edge of his knee and tried to ignore him as I started to type. Until he reached up and massaged my shoulders. I moaned accidentally before I launched myself away from him.
"Don't."
He was half-way out of the chair, but was moving slowly and cautiously. He didn't know what the tension was, but was approaching it and me with care. "You get so knotted up that I thought I'd help. You're always complaining about your back."
I just stared at him as he got closer until I finally had to swat away the hand that was reaching for my shoulders again. I was breathing hard and unwittingly backing myself into a corner. I knew he figured it out when I was pressed flush to a wall and he wasn't stopping. He leaned into me and breathed deep as I flushed a deep pink.
He ran a single finger down my neck. "Let me help you."
I would have succeeded in throwing him off had he not been expecting it. Instead he countered just where he knew I was weak. He pinned me to the wall and said it again sweetly, though I knew it wasn't a question. Especially when he ran his hand firmly down the sore muscles of my back and I melted into him. He massaged deeply into my lower back and pushed me flush against him. I rested my head against his shoulder and he stroked my cheek with his like a cat. I gave up then. It was inevitable.
I gripped his arms, his shoulders, neck, hair, everything within reach as he kissed and rubbed his way downward until my shirt was open and my pants strewn on the floor. Carlos stood and gazed at me for a minute before smearing his finger over the moisture on my lips and stroking down my inner thighs. He held my face up with his hand on the back of my neck as his fingers started to play over my clit and through the slickness between my lips.
I didn't care if I sounded like I was choking. "In me."
And he obliged. I hadn't felt anything that heavenly in so long that I felt near tears. I could care less if I sounded like any of his whores; I was being pleasured by a man who not only knew what he was doing, but wanted to do it.
"Harder." My hands had been wandering weakly under his jacket, flipping buttons as I went, but I clutched the arm straps of his holsters when he obeyed.
He smirked and massaged the back of my neck, bringing his face closer to mine. "Like that, baby? You want it faster too?" He pressed me harder into the wall and licked my lower lip. He waited until I was weak, struggling to stand as I tugged helplessly at his holster, breathing too hard to moan. Then he struck. "You think it'd feel good if I sucked on your clit? You want my tongue, baby?"
He put one of my legs of his shoulder and used his left hand to pin my hips to the wall. His tongue did feel good on my clit. Good enough to where I couldn't control my hands from fisting hair or fabric or anything else under them with weak, searching hands. His right hand was still working furiously, finger fucking me hard and fast as his tongue flicked my clit faster and faster.
I wasn't so much moaning then as I was growling and mewling for more. It was too good and finally, finally, just enough. I came with a yelp and several deep moans, twitching around his neck and tongue, holding his shoulders for dear life. His tongue and fingers wrenched the last few minutes of moans and sighs from me before he stood up and held me to him.
He let me lick the last traces of myself from his lips, and I let him kiss me in return. It really wasn't bad at all- a soft, searching, relaxing kiss from a sweet, relaxed man. I opened my eyes to find him looking at me and smiling. Not the Carlos D smirk. Not something triumphant. Just happy. And I smiled back.