Heat Level: Hot
Sex: Straight, Office, Dirty Talk
Leanne and Jeff engage in a forbidden tryst in his office between meetings, with lots of dirty talk, mutual pleasure and suspense. See what happens when Leanne doesn't wear panties into work. Read on to find out if they get caught.
He moans against her mouth, and then his hands are tearing at the buttons of her blouse, snaking inside to palm the hard peaks of her nipples, bare and chafing against cotton. When she gets him unzipped, he's, God, so fucking ready to go, springing up hard and firm into her hand, and she curls her fingers around the length of him, thumbs at the fluid gathering at the tip.
She can practically feel the growl building in his chest, although he doesn't quite voice it. "Is that coffee in the euphemistic sense of the term?" His fingers rub rough over the back of her leg, tracing restless patterns over the smooth bare skin just below the hem of the skirt. Up close like this, she can smell him, spice and clean sweat making her clench hotly at his proximity. God, Jeff. She loves how big he is, the solid, unyielding maleness of him, but the best part of wanting him is knowing just how hard he wants her back. The longer she keeps him waiting, the better he'll fuck her when she lets him.
"Maybe," she says, and turns around to face him. The office is small, no higher-tier palatial splendor yet, and the shift brings them right up against each other, her foot between both of his. "But what if I want some of the literal kind first?"
"Leanne, come on," Jeff says, and Leanne can't help but laugh at the urgency in it, impatient and unconcealed.
"I'm kidding," she says, and shoves him down onto the couch. "We only get a fifteen minute break between meetings. You really think I wanna fuck around making coffee when I could be -- well." She steps forward, straddling his knees. "Fucking around with you."
He grins, dirty. "Thank Christ," he says, and she laughs again as he reaches for her, hand sliding up her inner thigh. "Did you --?"
She nods, lower lip caught between her teeth, and watches his face as he sucks in a sharp breath, eyes darkening. His hand is moving faster now, and she cants her hips unconsciously, coaxing him on as her own breath quickens, cunt getting slick. Any second now, and he's going to feel it, going to know she did what he jokingly suggested, and God, she can't wait to see his face when he does.
"Jesus, Leanne." His thumb brushes the bare swell of her pussy, traces slow along the sensitised part of her labia, and Leanne can't bite back a hiss at the jolt of heat, the sheer want on his face. "God, you fucking --"
"What you wanted, wasn't it?" she prompts, and rocks her hips against his hand, rubbing herself against his thumb so it slips inside, into her wet heat. He moans; she leans down and sets a hand on his shoulder, biting her lip.
"Christ. Come here." He catches at her waist with his other hand, and this time, she lets herself be pulled, falls forward so her knees are pressing into the couch either side of his thighs. The shift forces her skirt up, the silk lining sliding easy over her skin, and she's suddenly so lit up all over that even that feels good; even the rasp of his trousers against the insides of her knees.
"Gonna fuck me?" Her hand on his shoulder slides upward, into the hollow of his throat where sweat licks the jut of the tendon, further back to the nape of his neck where his hair is damp and clinging to his skin.
"How could I not," Jeff says, "when you've gotten all ready for me, Jesus." He twists his hand, palms her whole vulva for a minute, firm steady pressure against the span of it, and then his middle finger is crooking in and up, and -- fuck.
"Fuck," she murmurs, rocking forward onto him, swallowing his finger entirely. "Yeah, Jeff --"
"Yeah?" He smiles at her, eyebrows arched, and curls his finger, searching out that spot on her inner wall that makes her squirm and work her hips, face going slack as she jackknifes forward. "This what you want?"
God, it is. She works herself forward, taking him again, again, but then he's sliding his finger out slowly and she feels herself flutter helplessly in its wake. He lifts his hand, and she can see the shine of it, smell the earthy scent of herself on his skin. "Jeff," she protests, but he's way ahead of her, pushing two fingers into his mouth. He hums around them, eyes falling closed, and the sight of it makes her belly dip with a hot rush of lust, wanting that mouth elsewhere, wanting those fingers back inside her where she's empty.
"Fuck, Leanne." He withdraws his hand, and the sheen on it is different, now, the clean wetness of saliva, thinner than the slick-shiny wet of her cunt. "Taste so good. That all for me?"
She rolls her eyes; snatches his hand at the wrist and presses it back between her legs, grinding the palm against the wet heat of her pussy. "Of course it's for you. What did you think, I just get wet for anyone?" His eyes are still dark, pupils bled out into the irises, and Leanne leans in, breathes out warm against his parted lips. "Want you to fuck me. Been thinking about it all goddamn day, walking around half-naked like you said." She teethes at his lip, laughs a little dirtily. "Come on, Jeff. Easy access."
"Fuck." He lifts his chin, mashes his mouth against hers, and Leanne takes the opportunity to rub the heel of her hand against the hard, hot weight of his dick in his pants, swelling up against the fly. He groans, bucks up, and she flicks at the button, works down the zipper between finger and thumb.
"Gonna," she gets out, "put it, put it in me, Christ --"
He moans against her mouth, and then his hands are tearing at the buttons of her blouse, snaking inside to palm the hard peaks of her nipples, bare and chafing against cotton. When she gets him unzipped, he's, God, so fucking ready to go, springing up hard and firm into her hand, and she curls her fingers around the length of him, thumbs at the fluid gathering at the tip. "Jeff," she says, jacking him roughly, "Jeff, come on."
"Holy Christ." That, apparently, is all Jeff can take. He licks at her mouth, bites it once, and then he's ducking his head to teethe at her nipple, flicking his tongue over the nub and then sucking at the whole swell of her tit, as much as she can handle. She jerks, hand cradling the back of his skull, and he hums against her, hot and instinctual as her hand circles the base of his dick.
It's instinctual, too, to rub herself against him, the shaft of his dick sliding wet through her folds. She rocks against him, onto him, arching her back like she could force him to swallow her deeper, and he's pulsing up with his hips, now, little jagged fucks.
This isn't the first time they've done this. She grinds forward, feels the tip of him breach the entrance to her cunt, and that's, that's fucking it.
"Jeff, God." He tenses, fucks up as she fucks down, and just like that, he's inside her, the whole fat length of him rammed right up deep. He's big, this long hot stretch inside of her, and the burn of it skips up her spine, sparks in her nipples where he's mouthing at one and rubbing the other between his fingers. Leanne's never really gone for older men before, but after Jeff -- after feeling how good it is to be with a guy who knows just how to fuck, how hard to thrust, how long to tease, when to let go -- she thinks she might reconsider in the future. If, that is, she ever decides to let Jeff go.
"Ssssh, baby." The words are muffled against the soft swell of her tit where it's pressed up against his cheek, the rasp of his stubble rough and so fucking sexy against the delicate skin on the underside. He pulses up, hands coming down to support her at the waist, and she throws her head back, fingers carding through his hair.
"Jeff." The smell of them both is thick and heavy in the air now, sweat prickling under her arms and down the insides of her legs where she's braced around Jeff's hips. She rocks down onto him, unsheathing herself smoothly and fucking back down, and, God, he's rubbing her just right every time, sliding over all the sensitive places inside of her and slamming firmly home. She can hear his breathing quickening, his thumbs starting to rub frenetic patterns over the spurs of her hipbones, and the rhythm of it catches her up, takes root in the pit of her stomach and sets her moving faster. It's a burn, by this point, the long muscles clenching and pulling in her thighs, but he's working too, slamming up to meet her, picking up the pace until she's jolted bone-deep at the crest of every thrust. The build of it flares up between her legs, in her extremities, pulsing blood-hot through all those buried places in her body she can't quite find names for, and stopping at this point is the last thing she wants to do.
She's close already when his hand relinquishes the ridge of her pelvis and slips down between her legs. When he pushes two fingers into her wetness alongside his cock, something like a yell bursts out of her unbidden, and she clenches her fist fierce and instinctive in his hair. "Fuck," she spits, thrusts going jagged, frenetic. "Jeff -- Christ --"
"Yeah?" His voice is this ragged, shattered thing as he withdraws his fingers again; slides them up and either side of her clit. "You like that, huh? Leanne..." He brings his fingers together, catches her clit tight between the tips and jacks it roughly, and the spark of it flashes violently through every nerve she has, sets her alight.
"Jesus, Jesus, Jesus." She's always profane when she's coming, and fuck is she coming now, her every pelvic muscle spasming wildly around the welcome intrusion of his dick. Her nails dig into the back of his neck, five deep points of contact keeping her anchored, and she feels it when he swells up further and final inside her, the rhythmic clenches of her body working him over the edge.
"Fuck." Jeff's no stranger to anchor points either, and his teeth sink into the soft flesh of her breast as he comes, hips jerking against her as he grinds up close and shoots. It's white-wet-hot, this sudden rush of wetness, and Leanne knows she should probably be worried about that, how they're going to clean up in time, but she's too fucking blissed out to care, her blood racing in her veins, her eyes half-blind from orgasm.
After a long moment, he lifts his head, unlatching, and she leans down to meet him, pressing her forehead to his. His breath is hot on her face, but he doesn't say anything. He rarely does, after, when they're coming down and he's still inside her. If he's anything like Leanne, maybe it worries him that he doesn't want to pull out; maybe it worries him that he doesn't know how the fuck to say so, what the fuck it means. Leanne could understand that. Sometimes she wishes she could just fuck Jeff till they were one seamless mess of come and exhaustion, with nowhere to go but to sleep.
He's still inside her when her PA knocks on the door, sharp barbershop rap. "We need you in the boardroom, Miss Barber, if you're ready."
They both start laughing at the same moment, hot and breathy and thrilled as teenagers against each other's mouths. "Oh, well," Leanne says, grinning. She lifts up, slow, and both of them catch their breath as he slides out of her, glistening with her slick. "Guess there's no time for literal coffee after all, huh?"
Jeff grins up at her; slides a hand up her skirt to rub through the mess of come smeared over the tops of her thighs. "Oh, well," he echoes. "Maybe next time."
Leanne doesn't even drink coffee, but Jeff doesn't need to know that. The tease is the thrill of the thing, after all.
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