Jason and Maya

Jason slipped to his knees in front of her. He was glad she was wearing a skirt today. She hardly ever did, but it made it so much easier. He held her gaze as he ran his hands up her calves, and saw the little intake of breath when his fingers brushed the backs of her knees. Her smile--her smile promised secrets.

She let her legs fall apart, one on either side of him, and he swallowed at how sexual a gesture it was. She slid just a fraction further down in the chair, and now he could smell her. His hands caught in the fabric of her skirt and she shivered as he dragged it up her thighs. Now he could see her--light blue panties nestled in the shadow at the apex of her thighs, damp with her arousal. He swore, quietly, appreciatively, so she would know how the sight had sent a jolt of heat to his cock. He was trapped tight in his pants, below not only a belt and underwear but also his work apron. What had possessed him to want to do this right here in the back of the store without waiting to change? She smiled at him, knowing and satisfied as a cat, and he remembered why.

"Maya," he whispered. "Please." He wanted to bury his face in her sweetness and lick her until she had to bite her tongue to keep from making so much noise that someone would find them. He wanted to tell her how fucking hot she was, how hard she was making him, how just utterly gorgeous she was no matter what she was doing, but they didn't talk at times like this.

She spread her legs wider and slipped two fingers into the waistband of her panties. He watched her drag them down over her hips, and brushed her fingertips with his bigger hands and pulled them the rest of the way down.

She was wet and pink underneath, lower lips already swollen with arousal. She squeezed her thighs together to ease the ache she must be feeling, and he groaned low in his throat. God.

"Please," he whispered again. Sometimes he wished she'd make him beg for it, or grab him by the back of his head and force his face into her pussy, but she was always gentle. Dominant, but quietly imperious. All she had to do was smile or flick her fingers and he'd do whatever she wanted. It made him proud, and it made him watch her hands all day with an intensity he tried to hide. She knew, though, and the fire in her eyes when she'd catch him staring promised wicked things.

She tipped her head back in that playful, watchful way she had, and then nodded slowly. He rocked forward on his knees and licked at the crease of her thigh, where a small smear of her juices was already glistening. Quickly he lapped at all the wetness he could find, filling his mouth with the taste of her and making her writhe with anticipation.

She growled at him and tangled her hand in his shoulder-length hair, and that was the signal he had been waiting for. He pressed his nose to the patch of soft dark hair above her clit and began to lick her cunt in earnest. Her smell was all around him and it made him ache. He could feel her slickness all over his face as he licked. It would be all soaked through his mustache and beard by the time he was done. He'd look filthy and debauched and like he'd been, well, eating out a woman and letting her cum on his face.

His soft trousers felt like a band of steel, like some sort of chastity device, over his hard-on, but he had no attention to spare for his own needs. She was rocking her hips against his face now, her hand still in his hair. He kept up his attentions. He tongued her slit and nibbled at her clit, careful of his teeth, and when her voice hitched in just the right way, he slipped fingers inside her and earned himself a quickly-stifled true moan.

When she came, it was as glorious as he remembered. She was wet and hot and she went beautifully tense all around him, and then she collapsed back into the chair, murmuring and stroking his hair back from his forehead as he licked her gently through the aftershocks of her orgasm.

"Jason, touch yourself." It was a quiet command, the most she'd said the entire time they'd been in this room. He scrambled to obey, losing the outer layers of his garments. "And the shirt," she murmured, so he stood there in just his soft dark pants and slid them down over his hips and touched himself for her. She liked to watch. He teased his nipples, holding her gaze again and pinching the soft, sensitive nubs until they hurt. The pain went straight to his cock, already standing hard and aching between his legs. He ran his hands down his belly, making a show of it for her (she smiled, sphinxlike), and wrapped his hand around his cock.

Quick, fast, urgent: they had no more time left. He jerked himself hard, in short sharp strokes, hurtling towards orgasm. In truth, he was so ready just from licking her out that it didn't take long. He came all over the floor with a subvocal moan. Couldn't get cum on his clothes or someone would know. Sometimes he wanted to come all over his shirt or the apron so everyone could see that she owned this part of him, but that would mean they'd have to end this.

She caught up her panties from the floor and rolled them into a ball, tucking them into her purse. She'd be naked under her skirt the rest of the day, and he'd be thinking of it, getting hard again when he was back behind the counter pretending to be a good asexual employee. He'd jerk off again tonight at the thought of her. He wondered if she touched herself thinking of him.

Maya passed him, pressed body to body, as she edged around a stack of chairs towards the door. He didn't kiss her--he wanted to kiss her--just said, "Thank you."

She brushed her fingers along his jawline and smiled that enigmatic smile again, and was gone, leaving nothing but her smell and a smile on his face.