The Watercooler

"Mr. Lattiker...is this happiness to see me?"

"It's happiness to do more than see you."

"Hm. I see. Well...I think I can oblige."

I lean down and gently kiss the tip before taking him all into my mouth. My tongue graces the contours of his veins as he quietly moans pleasure above me. I move my hand from the bottom of his shaft and gently stroke him while my lips cover the head. As I bring my lips to the very tip, I loudly slurp in his wetness, prompting him to push his palm against his thigh and grip his pants.

Sucking and swallowing him is more than either of us can seem to bear: after a few minutes, I reach one hand in my panties and gently stroke my clit with my index finger while still taking him in my mouth. I wish he could see me touching myself with his cock in my mouth, but his head is cocked back in ecstasy. His left leg begins shaking, and he finally looks down to see my other hand at work.

"Oh no, no no...I have something for you. You can touch yourself anytime. There'll be none of that on my watch."

He stands up, grabs me around my waist, lifts me up without effort and lays me length-wise across the empty desk. His fingers wrap around my panties, and he pulls them down my legs, letting them dangle on my right heel.

He crawls on top of me and, with his cock at full attention poking through the fly of his still-fastened trousers, enters me slowly. His thickness immediately resonates through my entire body – pleasure and ecstasy from the soles of my feet to the very tips of my fingers at his first thrust.

He uses his well-trimmed arms to leverage himself on the oak desk as he slowly but steadily gyrates. Our rhythms are perfectly in sync. I run my palms under his tank top and feel his pecs harden as a result of his balancing act on the desk. He levitates over me, beads of sweat falling from his collarbone dampening my blouse. With one thrust he moves deeply inside me, and I grimace with the pain of a woman who hasn't been taken in a very long time – and never with someone who filled me up quite as much.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Y-yeah...I'm fine. Just been a while, you know?"

"I understand..." He runs his fingers through my hair. "Just let me know if I'm making you uncomfortable. This is all about you."

With his affirmation, the pain goes away. I push away from him, sit up on the desk and motion my finger toward him. "C'mere. Sit down."

He sits on the edge of the desk pointing toward the door. I carefully, yet precariously, place my arms around the back of his neck and ease myself onto his lap...using my hand to help guide him inside me. As I straddle him, I quickly graduate from slow and gentle to fast and aggressive as I become accustomed to his size inside of me. As I work in complete control, Mr. Lattiker's face reveals that he's attempting not to come too soon; something of a breakdown of that steely cool that he's portrayed so far.

As I start to remember what great sex is all about, I switch things up a bit. Slow grind. Fast grind. Swivel hips. Kissing. Nibbling. Biting. Licking. I let him know in so many ways that I'm having a thoroughly good time. Just to remind him that I'm running things right now, I tease him a bit by holding the tip of his cock right at the outside of my walls...refusing to come back down.

"Oh, now you got jokes, eh? You gonna do me like that?"

"Quit your complaining. You know you like it. Don't you?"

"I do."

"Tell me you like it, and I'll come down."

"I like it."

"Tell me what you like. You like my juices running down your cock?"

"You already know."

"You like it when I run the tip of my tongue across your lips?"

"Mmmhmm."

"I'm not convinced. Tell me you like this." I wrap his tank top in my fist and pull him closer.

"What I gotta do to let you know? Wait...I think I have an idea..."

He cuts our little game short by grabbing my waist with both hands and effortlessly lifting me off his lap. As he sets my ass on the desk, I leave a gushy wet imprint of our juices on the oak. The thought that I'll have to wipe down the desk thoroughly before anyone walks in tomorrow is the only mental distraction I've had since this all started.

Mr. Lattiker ensures the distraction is short-lived.

He drops to both knees and wraps his hands around my hips before pulling my juicy gash to his lips. His tongue running revolutions on my clit is slow, rhythmic and sensual...much like his lovemaking. Even as he enters three fingers inside me, he's completely in tune with what I can handle; I respond approvingly by thrusting myself into his fingers. My eyes closed, I push both hands through his hair and grip. The closer I get to climax, the harder I grasp to his follicles.

As he licks, sucks and ever-so-gently clasps my pink dot between his top lip and the tip of his tongue, I let loose a body-quaking orgasm that arches my back and forces me to catch myself on my base of my hands. It also makes for an increased mess on the oak desk – and on Mr. Lattiker's face.

He looks up at me with a pleased smile. "I take it I've proven to you that I like it?"

"Yeah, I think we're on the same page, Mr. Lattiker."

I rotate stomach-down on the desk and drop my legs down to the tips of my toes. Grabbing on with my hands to both sides of the desk, I stretch out as far as I can and place my chest on the desk. All that's missing is a pair of handcuffs.

I look back at him. "So Mr. Lattiker, I hope you're not done with me yet..."

He smiles. "Not by a damn sight."

Placing his right hand at the top of my ass, he enters me once again, regaining the control he began with. That he takes me with his trousers still on turns me on to no end, but I imagine what it would be like to be completely connected to his nude frame.

He runs his hands up my hips and over my lower back, gripping me as he thrusts. His left hand travels down the contour of my hip and works itself to my clit. His index and middle fingers massage me, and the very limited grasp I have on the floor continues to buckle.

My moans become louder and my composure more muddled as I get closer to coming again. As his thrusts become more rapid, he also gets more vocal...his fingers never leaving my clit as he's fucking me. From deep within I explode, even stronger than before, as my legs give way and the desk catches my weight.

Just as I come down, Mr. Lattiker exits me and his shaft runs over my ass. His sticky hot cum shoots across my lower back. He leans into me; his sweat-soaked chest covering my shoulder blades. He grabs my hand and interlocks my fingers in his.

I close my eyes.

* * * * * * * * *

Now this I remember...that awkward silence of a "first time" permeating the room as we both slowly re-robe and get ourselves in order. In my head spin the usual post-first-sex musings, and then some: What does he think of me? Did he enjoy it? Was it too soon? What the hell was I thinking doing this at my place of employment?

I know not what to say. Fortunately, he breaks the silence for the both of us.

"Listen...in case I didn't make myself clear before, I've always had my eyes on you...ever since I started working here. Obviously, I didn't expect things to play out like this, and I can understand if you think I'm full of shit right now, but I do hope that this thing doesn't end here in this room."

I can tell by his failure to make eye contact that he's nervous...and quite sincere. We're on the same page there, because all I can seem to muster is a dainty, cornball hop on one foot and a hand placed on his cheek. We look each other in the eyes for a couple seconds, and we kiss – no biting lips or sucking tongues...just a lengthy, sensual kiss that lifts me to the heavens and conveys the promise of things to come.

"I suppose that should have probably come first, eh?"

"I suppose it should have. But look at it like this: when you take me out to dinner on Saturday, you don't have to throw a bunch of extra game at me just to get me in bed!"

"Heh. I heard about a great Brazilian steakhouse I've been wanting to try.

Alright, big spender. Got a side hustle I don't know about?"

"Jokes, eh? Well...let's work out the details tomorrow at the watercooler."

He leans in for one last peck, and he's off.

They say men run off when a woman gives it up immediately. I suppose I was way too horny to even think about that before the fact. But something about Mr. Lattiker leads me to believe that he won't be running away. Even in these less-than-savory conditions, he made love to me with the intent and purpose of a man who takes pride in the things that matter.

I want to know him better, and it seems like the feeling is mutual – today didn't need to happen in order for us to go down that road. Would I do it all over again? Honestly, I just don't know... but the whole thing felt way too good to have regrets.

Besides, I don't have time to think on that now. If I want to even consider getting home at a reasonable hour, I have a floor and desk to clean up.


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