On the Night Shift

It was another late night at the firm, and Stacy was preparing to work another night shift. A huge project was on the line, and like always, the boss had given it to her and Steve to tag-team. They always ended up with the difficult projects, because their minds worked together in such good, and sometimes such bad ways. He was finishing up the part he was working on before handing off to Stacy, and she was watching him work, out of the corner of her eye, but pretending not to.

He brought the documents over to her, and spread them out before her, explaining each section he had worked on. His hand brushed against hers, inadvertently she had to believe, but it sent a chill down her spine nonetheless.

He was married, and she tried ever so hard to behave herself, but she was very attracted to him. He was petite in stature but had strong hands, hands she wanted to pick her up and lay her down somewhere. And his mind, his mind was amazing to her. She would get turned on just watching him think things through, and damp, no drenched, when the two of them would go on their problem-solving frenzies. A lucky woman, his wife was, and she left it at that, thwarting every advance he made, taking pride in taking the moral high-ground.

He continued to explain to her how far he had gotten on this book, and she wondered if he could feel the heat pouring off her body. They were going through the files for the book when suddenly Stacy's mouse stopped working. "Shit," she muttered, slamming it down on the desk, impatiently. Steve was always one to tell her that she was too impatient, too wound up about these things, and told her he'd check it out, bending over to crawl under her desk. Stacy quickly crossed her legs the other way, not wanting him to smell her heated sex through the opening in her skirt, and give herself away. He seemed not to notice, and claimed victory quickly after moving some wire that had gotten loose.

He finished catching her up on his progress, and left for the night. "Damn," she told herself, thinking how difficult it was to do the right thing. Working alone on the night shift, she decided to indulge herself in a little release, and took her vibe from her purse, and took it into Steve's office.

She put a leg up on each armrest of his chair, high-heeled black boots draped over each side, and lifted her skirt, thinking about his voice, his mannerisms, his damned amazing mind. She pulled her panties aside and thrust the vibe inside. She was feverishly pushing it in and out, and then rubbing it on her clit, imagining his voice calling to her. She was so caught in the moment, breathing deeply, eyes closed, working herself closer and closer, that she didn't realize that his voice WAS calling out to her, and his office door was opening. She was close, so close, when his voice, at point-blank range, addressed her.

"You ARE a dirty little slut, aren't you?"

His voice pushed her over the edge, and although she should have been startled, a warmth spread through her body and she trembled in release.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, shocked and embarrassed but at the same time hungry for more. He laid his glasses down on the desk and was between her legs before she could even move.

"Sweetheart," he said, "Why don't you let me take care of this for you?" He asked her this, breathing directly into her sex. She shuddered at the warmth of it on her sensitive skin. He buried his face into her, lapping her juices out of the inside of her, and flicking his tongue over and over her already exhausted clit, before grabbing it and sucking it.

The feeling was a mixture of pain, and deep, deep arousal, and she cried out. He moved his tongue across her, over and over, the pleasure building, her well-formed calves flexing and contracting with the waves of pleasure she was feeling. "Aw fuck!" she yelled and her clit started throbbing, kissing him back in gratitude.

Stacy was dumbstruck. She felt really, really good, but something told her this was really, really wrong. As the aftershocks shuddered through her body, she grabbed him and kissed him, noticing her juices covering his mustache.

"My God you are so hot," he told her, darting his tongue inside her mouth while she continued to try to catch her breath.

Before she could protest, he had pushed aside most of the really expensive electronic equipment on his desk, and hoisted her up onto his desk. He pulled her shirt over her head and studied her ample breasts and flat stomach. She knew where all this was going but the passion was too much to stop.

He was unbuckling his belt when she leaned forward and finished unbuckling it herself. She took his hard manhood out of his pants and looked at it with a gleam in her eye. On all fours on his desk, black boots up in the air, breasts dangling in front of her, she leaned her head down and took him in her mouth.

"Oh Gawd," he muttered, as the brunette-haired young beauty bobbed up and down on his cock. But that was not what he wanted from her, and they both knew it. She licked him up and down, swirling her tongue around him until she tasted his pre-cum juices and pulled back, teasing. He grabbed her hair but he was too late; she had made up her mind how she wanted him, too. She scooted back on his desk, head perched against his computer monitor, legs slightly spread before him, and looked him in the eye, beckoning.

He climbed up on his own desk, positioned himself over her, and plunged in to the wetness she had waiting for him.

"Damn," she screamed out, glad she was the only one on night shift. He deftly moved in and out of her, reaching deeper each time. She could not believe it had come to this, her laying her amongst all this strewn computer equipment, skirt bunched up at her waist, this brilliant man pumping in and out of her. She grabbed his ass with her hands and started pushing him to go farther and faster, nails digging into his flesh. This sent him over the edge and he tensed up, sending his hot juices deep inside her.

"Damn sweetheart," he told her, "you were one crazy ride." She put herself back together and while he reassembled his computer equipment, he told her "That was just the beginning. Next time I'm going to take hours on you."

And with that, he picked up his glasses, the jacket he had come back for, and left.

And Stacy, after freshening up in the bathroom, went to work on the book. She had a lot of progress to make by morning.