Author: Elizabeth Heath
Category: Other
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"Why are you doing this?" he asks, snatching a moment for breath.
"Why do you have to ask?" she replies, and she's looking into his eyes like some kind of starstruck teenager gazing at her idol.
And damn, she's so naked.
She swings her hips round on the desk, so she's sitting on the edge as she kisses him, her hands exploring his hard cock once again. Vincent finds himself looking down at her breasts in their full glory, nipples hard and pointing at him, and he can even see down between her thighs, see everything, right there in front of him.
"I'm not... going to... tell anyone," he says between kisses. "I don't know... anything about... what you've been doing."
She smiles again, "What I've been doing is trying to attract your attention, Vincent."
He's a little surprised, doesn't know what to say.
"You haven't a clue, have you?" she's amused by his lack of social skills, no doubt, the fact he finds women such a complete mystery.
She pulls him close to her now, her legs brushing against his thighs as she tears at his belt, forcing his pants and underwear down to the floor. The air is cold on his bare behind, but the contact of her soft hands sprawling over his loins inspires enough heat to make up for that.
Then she's using his cock to caress the soft flesh either side of her pussy, and he's forgotten all about the chill.
She's using his erection like it's her own personal sex toy, stroking herself with it, running the tip along her moistened folds, grazing his cock against her clit.
"I've been after you for a while, Vincent," she growls, "but you never seemed to notice me."
"I was always told it wasn't polite to stare."
With a little more nerve, he takes over the motion of his cock against her searing flesh now, and she lets him, and lies back along the desk.
He continues the caressing action, gliding the purple head around her pussy lips, over her mound and that little sprinkling of soft down, then more firmly against her sensitive bud. She gasps a little at the contact with her clit, but he continues his teasing motion, even dipping his tip in between her lips, only not quite penetrating her.
She says, "I thought the only way to break through might be some kind of bold move."
Her pussy is seeping as he toys with her lips - it's clear she's aroused by him, or by this situation.
"Risking your job, your career, just so I would notice?" he asked.
"I think we're talking about two different things," she smiles. "The bold move I'm talking about is what you see before you right now. All that other stuff - well, that all began long before I noticed you, Vincent."
It's the first time she's actually acknowledged that "all that other stuff" is true, that it's real, it's out there. That without saying it explicitly, his suspicions about her are correct.
"You don't have to do this," he says, though his attraction is so intense now, the thought of stopping seems unbearable. "I'm not going to tell anyone about - "
"Shh..." she touches his lips with her forefinger, gently stifling him.
He wants to believe her, that her seduction is not merely an attempt to crudely derail his little investigation, but the coincidence is just a little too irresistible.
It's too late to back out now, though, metaphorically or otherwise. His cock is already wet with her juices and throbbing with need for attention. If there's a photographer waiting in the wings, then so be it. He'd be a shipwrecked mariner the rest of his life, but at least he'd have the memory of being with this exquisite creature, even for the briefest of moments.
He strokes her pussy lips with his hardness, moving in ever-decreasing circles towards the center of her heat, coating himself in her copious moisture, teasing her a little before he slowly inches forward, slipping his tip gently inside her.
"Fuck me, Vincent," she says quietly, staring into his eyes wild unbridled lust.
He's far beyond any doubt now, beyond the event horizon that would allow anything other than giving up to the irresistible forces driving him forward. She closes her eyes and gasps as he glides inside her, his massive erection piercing her, squeezing its way into the hot, slippery tightness he can feel trembling with desire.
She gasps again as he fills her completely, the tip of his cock grazing against the centre of her sensitivity, deep inside.
For a moment, just a heartbeat or two, he pauses to look at her, in awe at her beauty, those curves in all the right places, shapely breasts peaked by hard nipples, her pretty face the stuff of his dreams.
Then just as slowly, he's slipping out again, almost completely, so that his burning hardness very nearly breaks contact with her, only his tip touches against her pussy lips. He smiles in sheer bliss, and she responds with her own smile, her eyes locked with his, that spark in her whole demeanor that makes him forget anything outside of their own connection.
Then gently but firmly, he places his hands on her hips to hold her in place as he begins a slow thrusting, circling his hips to slide his cock in between her slick folds, easing into a rhythm deep inside her heat.
Her head turns to the side, eyes closing again as he begins a steady pumping into her, her mouth opening to suck in air as the energy threatens to overload her system.
"Oh God..." she moans. "Oh, Vincent..."
One of her arms cradles her head, and she's running her hand through her silky hair as he thrusts into her, massaging her head as if to cope with the sensations flowing through her.
His own need drives him on now, to accelerate his pace, penetrating her with growing force.
She looks up at him with another powerfully bright smile, to encourage him and simultaneously inspire him. He responds by upping his pace, and her expression transforms into one of almost aggression, a silent growl in reaction to his power and stir him on to continue as forcefully as he dares.
Urgently, now, ordering him: "Fuck me, Vincent. Fuck me."
Her whole body is shaking, pulsating, shuddering as he ploughs into her, and her moans turn to gasps as she lies back, eyes closing again to cope with the explosions of ecstacy rippling through her body. She's so wet, he can be as violent as his fitness will allow with his lunges inside her, pounding her flesh, each thrust its own dramatic collision.
Her hands sweep over her body to end up closing over her breasts, coaxing them and teasing her nipples to draw out their own passionate song as he continues to fuck her.
He feels himself approaching the final peak of his endurance, but eases his rhythm a little to sustain it a little longer. As if to make up for the slowing pace, he moves his hands from her hips to trace over her contours, one ending up caressing her soft, slippery flesh around her pussy and his own rigid shaft plunging into her.
His palm comes to a halt directly over her most sensitive button, and the pretty brunette is almost singing in response to the exquisite sensation of this new pressure on her clit. Continuing his new slower grinding action of his burning cock inside her, Vincent presses down on her, his strong hand applying growing force to her little bud, until he's almost using her clit to support the weight of his body while he fucks her.
Echoing the rhythm of her own hands caressing her breasts, he gently stirs his soft palm against her clit while he continues to grind his hardness against the sensitive wetness of her vagina, and her elevated gasps and moans only drive him on until he's virtually crushing her little button with the heel of his hand.
She pulls herself up onto her elbows, and she has a wry smile that suddenly shocks Vincent into thinking this must be it: the game is up. She's going to call out the man with the camera to capture all this for posterity and the law courts.
It's all over.
But she only bites her lip, still wanting more from him, and he sees she just wants to switch to a different position.
Her feet drop down over the edge of the desk, and his cock slips out of her as she pulls herself up, standing to kiss his lips before flashing him another dazzling smile.
Cass
andra turns, and leans out over the desk, presenting her delectable rear to him now, waiting for him to take control.
There's a moment where Vincent pauses, finding himself again astonished at just how sexy Cassandra can be, this brunette from his own department. In just a few short moments she has revealed to him just how staid and pathetic his love life has been.
He's never had a girl offer herself like this before. He's never fucked someone from behind. Even at his age.
With one hand on her hip, he eases forward and grips his shaft, then strokes his sensitive tip around her pussy again, seeking out her wetness and the perfect angle to glide inside her.
He pushes forward, the tip of his cock nudging aside her pussy lips to gain entry. Cassandra closes her eyes as he fills her, and presses herself flat against the desk, her hands clutching at the edges of the wood to support herself, as he buries his impressive hardness up to the hilt.
A hand on each of her hips, Vincent withdraws, until only the very tip is still inside her - then he squeezes his hips and surges forward again, forcefully enough to cause her to exhale quite suddenly in response.
"Oh Vincent," she moans, "you have the most wonderful cock."
He smiles, then pulls out once again, upping the force a notch to pound into her tight pussy.
He's never done it this way before, but it feels natural, feels right. It makes him feel strong, in touch with his masculine side in the most primordial way. He's suddenly the king of beasts, subjugating the most beautiful female in his pride.
"Oh my God, oh my God, Oh, Vincent..."
She's gasping for breath, doing her best to cling on to the desk as he pumps his rock-hard organ inside her.
"Don't stop, don't stop!" she implores him, and it's not long before her beautiful soprano voice is ringing out in blissful melody as he rides her over the top, the energy feeling like a stampede of horses swooping over a mountain pass, and he manages to just about stay in control to time his own peak as she soars over hers, before he's releasing his hot seed deep inside her.
*
When he slows to a halt, breathless, his entire being pulsating with the ultimate high, he opens his eyes to find her gazing back at him in pure wonderment, her mouth open, eyes wide in unconcealed astonishment, the corners of her lips squeezing upwards in a smile.
"Where have you been all my life?" she says, turning to him now as he pulls up his pants to refasten his belt.
She leans into him, and kisses him, but he breaks away, saying: "What does this all mean, Cassandra?"
Cassandra, earnest, says, "It means I want to be with you, Vincent. That's all."
He breathes in her scent, feeling his heart strings tugging, even as the warm energy from their lovemaking continues to flow around his body.
"Is this all just to buy my silence?" he asks, his pulse quickening.
It's been so very long since he's been with a woman. He'd forgotten that in relationships, no matter how short, the wonderful highs were generally balanced out by devastating, exhausting lows. His years of casual celibacy might not have given him the pleasures he might have found with a partner or series of partners, but they have spared him the painful side.
Now, after the unbelievable high from being with Cassandra, he's facing the prospect of unfathomable pain that this brief taste will be his only taste, even though she has him addicted.
"It's to buy your affection, Vincent," she says, now ducking behind the desk to retrieve her clothes. "Is that so bad?"
"My affection?"
Cassandra smiles, and steps into a pair of little black lace panties, draws them up her slender thighs.
She says. "I want you, Vincent. I want to be with you, I want to share my body, my thoughts, my secrets. I've had a crush on you for two years - ever since I first saw you stand up in a meeting and say the Corporation needed to change how it operates."
Vincent breathes in, and she's waiting for his response. Her nipples are hard, perhaps only from the cool air, but it sends another tingle through his loins.
He's not going to give her an easy way out just yet, though.
"As for tonight, well, yes. I did realize you were on to me," she takes a deep breath. "I was worried you were going to tip Stanton off."
Vincent gives a slight nod of disappointment, thinking it's confirmation she's just using him. But he allows her to go on.
She says, insisting, "I didn't come here to force you to keep quiet, Vincent. I came here because it was my last chance to win you over, to get you for myself. Leaving it any longer and it would have been too late. You would have been hunting a mole, and I'd only ever be a target for you."
Vincent stands like a statue. Her eyes flicker over his face, trying to read him. Trying to work out whether her final appeal has worked.
After a long moment-and-a-half, he says: "Two years, huh?" And he smiles. "You ever thought to just ask me out for a drink after work?"
Cassandra throws a shoe at him.
As she finishes dressing, she scorns him for the times she did ask him out for a drink after work, and each time he had assumed it was a work thing, and invited everybody else in the department along too.
He says, "So, you want to grab that long-awaited drink now? We could talk about all this - properly."
"That would be lovely," she says, offering him that heart-meltingly beautiful smile that he knows, ultimately, could get him to do absolutely anything in this world for her.
She traces her finger over his lips, but he can't quite tell what she's thinking.
He says: "You are... recruiting me, aren't you? I mean, I really want to pursue this whole crush thing of yours, but..."
The dazzling brunette kisses his lips, and says: "Not recruiting, Vincent, seducing. There is a difference. I just want to date you, you don't have to do anything at work you wouldn't have otherwise..."
"Apart from quietly fail to find a mole in the company."
"I promise to make it worth your while," she kisses him again. "You can tie me up and interrogate me if you like, probe me for answers."
He says, "You haven't even told me what all this is about - who you're working for."
She nods, says: "I'm working for the good guys, Vincent, you don't need to worry about that. The guys that want clean air for people to breathe, unpolluted water for people to drink."
Vincent feels something akin to relief wash over him. What had he been fearing, that she was a Russian spy like that other pretty brunette, Anna Chapman? An environmentalist - that wasn't so bad. Much better than a simply case of corporate espionage, too, in his eyes. She was doing it for a reason other than money, after all.
She looks at him, and he can see her eyes skirting about, trying to read him again.
He says: "Tell me you're not going to start climbing up the company's smoke stacks or chaining yourself to a power plant front gate, making me look like an idiot for not finding our mole?"
"We're not doing that kind of thing so much these days. It's all about embedded activism these days."
"Embedded activism?"
"We fund bright, motivated young supporters through college, get them the best possible corporate qualifications, and help them avoid any possible links with environmentalists," she explained. "Then we feed them into key corporations."
"Changing things from inside."
She nods, but says: "We can talk later, where it's safer. We shouldn't leave together right now. Do you might staying a little while?"
"I was planning on it," he says, a veritable cocktail of emotions running through him now, teetering on the edge between the sheer thrill of a new relationship with this stunning brunette, and the fear that he was entering a new and dangerous world, undermining the corporation that had been his home for so long.
"Come out of the building in half an hour. I'll be waiting in the Starbucks down by the Metro station."
"Do you mind that I'll be driving?" he jokes.
She offers him a mock-stern look, saying: "I think w
e'll have to talk about that SUV of yours, Mister."
"You can give me some transport advice over dinner," he says.
"Sure," Cassandra kisses his lips again, and then she withdraws, heading over to the door. "But if you're going to use me as a consultant, you'll have to compensate me."
"Compensate you?"
"I'm sure we can agree terms once you've got me home and in your bed."
Vincent feels a tingle between his thighs, things stirring even this soon after orgasm. Wow. This gorgeous girl wants him to take her home to his bed. His head spun, dizzy with thoughts of devouring this exquisite creature. Parting her thighs and burying his face in her sweet, wet pussy.
Then she says, seriously now: "We shouldn't be seen too much together, Vincent. Not at work."
"Of course. No more than normal, at any rate."
"Then I'll say a bientot, Vincent," she says, a sparkle in her eye, and then she's gone.
For half an hour, Vincent sits alone at his desk, just like any other night in the office. He breathes deeply, trying to keep calm. Even tries to get a little work done, as he might normally have done of an evening.
The stainless steel clock on the wall ticks steadily, monotonously, calmly, counting out the seconds until he can begin his new life.
The End.
Touch of Mocha
I ran my hands down her skin. My fingers caressing the ache out of her tired muscles, and then I dug my fingers into her shoulders until she moaned under me. The difference between my pale hands and her dark, muscled, back--such a sharp contrast; I dug my fingers into her shoulders again, letting the thumbs press deep.
She purred.
I realized, looking down at her, that her skin was the color of chocolate.
Then I absently traced my fingertip across her tattoo, following the raised letters that say that very thing.
Chocolate
The too-gentle touch must have been tickling her; she giggled and turned over to face me. I laid myself down next to her on the satin sheets and I watched her eyes go to my chest. Her fingers slowly crossed the distance and she ran her nails through the thick, dark, curl, hairs on my pecks. She dugs her fingertips into those muscles that long hours in the gym have helped sculpt. I smiled, as I watched her play with the nipple ring, like a bright flash of silver on my chest. Then winced when she tugged it.