I was thinking that today was going to be another wash-out. 54 was supposed to meet me over lunch (he'd been making dark hints about elevators), and hence I had put on a skirt and boots and claimed to him that I wasn't wearing panties (a lie- it's cold out there!), but it didn't work out because he got stuck in a meeting with his boss to discuss the trip to Copenhagen, and didn't come out until 5 minutes before I went back to work.
However, after a succession of texts, we arranged to meet after work. He was actually working late, until 10 p.m., but he could take a break.
Of course, the conference I was working at then ran late, so he was hanging around the back of the (closed) bar inside the building waiting for me. Once my meeting had ended, I gathered my stuff together, went to the bathroom and took my panties off, and shot down two floors to meet him, sitting in the dark round the side of the bar where nobody could see him. He looked at me, somewhat pissed off because I was late, but understanding that it wasn't my fault.
"The second office on the right. I've unlocked the door" he said. I nodded, walked on past. Went around the corner, round another corner, walked to the office, opened it, fearing that... somehow... somebody would be in there.
Nobody. And huge bay windows looking out on the grounds of the park. Oh, yessss...
I dropped my bag and coat on a desk. He came in behind me, grinned, and said he had to lock the door. I watched him, then turned around, walked over to the desk next to where I'd put my things. Sat on it, lifted my skirt up slightly. He came over to me, kissed me hard. Leant back, and we grinned at each other. He lifted my skirt up, slid a hand under, felt my thighs- touched my bare pussy. I wasn't wet a minute ago when I was in the bathroom. Now? I don't know. But when he stops and leans back a second, I reach under and touch myself. Wet, yes. Not dripping, but my clit is already slippery. He bites my neck.
I stroke myself for a mere couple of seconds before he leans in and kisses me again, harder, and, without breaking the kiss, starts to undo his belt and pants. I angle my hips forward on the desk, moving up to the edge. He gets his cock out, but has to break off, as he's got so much strapped to his hips (16 pounds worth of equipment, he tells me), that it's making things really awkward.
Not enough to make much of a difference, however, we're both determined. He pulls me forward, I attempt to wrap my legs around his hips but my knee-high boots are making it damn awkward, so I don't and just cock them up around his ears. He reaches between us, grabs himself, aims... and it won't go all the way in, the position is all wrong, but he gets some of it in and fucks me. I can barely feel him inside me.
I am leaning my torso back, my weight on my wrists, and he is bending over the table, kissing me to keep me quiet as he likes to do, and I'm trying to angle myself better so that he can get inside me properly. My left leg snags on something- I think it's his radio, and immediately think "Fuck, turning it on by kicking it would be really fucking stupid!", so I lift my leg away in a hurry.
He pushes into me, and he comes. It can't have been more than two minutes since he got into me.
I don't mind- this was more for kicks than for anything else. I've finally lost my this-workplace virginity, and I'm amused as hell. Besides, I knew what I was in line for- this, as I explained by text to a dear friend and blog reader a few minutes later (as I simply had to crow about it to somebody instantly!) is why I always blow him for his first orgasm. So that he can come as fast as he needs to... and then we can get on with the actual fun and fucking.
My first thought is that he better pull out before he gets come and wet smeared on his pants, but he stays in me a moment, moving a bit more, then I reach down between us. He slides out of me, still semi-hard, and I hold him in my hand until he steps back and I lick my fingers and palm clean.
He starts to readjust his clothing- at which point I realise that my leg had actually snagged his holster, and somehow I'd managed to open it. His gun gleams dully in the semi-dark, and I'm grinning again.
He puts himself back together. I just pull my skirt back down. He asks me about my bruises, and I tell him that they're OK, very green. I can't show him- it's too dark, which is disappointing. He asks if my husband has noticed, and I reassure him that no, he hasn't. He smiles disbelievingly, kisses me- bites my tongue hard. I pick up my bag. As we walk to the door, he reaches between my legs and pinches my mound hard. I tell him that's also still sore from last week.
He goes out first. I walk out about 20 seconds later. There's nobody along this stretch of the building at this time, we're OK. He heads across the hallway, up an escalator, me behind. He walks out, greets a few people hanging around outside smoking. I come up behind, we say Hi, he walks me across the carpark and up the side of the security arrangements, muttering about how he really wants to fuck me again right here, but there are cameras everywhere... He pinches my chin a second, and I laugh. There's nobody around- we have a concrete wall on one side, bamboo on the other.
We stop, say Goodnight, standing well apart.
I walk off to catch a train home, feeling my panties squelch between my thighs. When I get home, after kissing my husband, I go to the bathroom and take them down. There are blobs of still-wet come on the crotch.
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