tagErotic CouplingsLet The Punishment Fit The Crime...

Let The Punishment Fit The Crime...

bylindtchilli©

This didn't work out entirely as planned, but I hope you will enjoy it anyway!

*

"I'm really, really sorry."

She glared at him. Sorry might be the hardest word, but she would have much preferred him not to have let her down in the first place.

"If there is any way I can make it up to you..."

"Have you the slightest idea how fucking embarrassing it is to be stood up on Valentine's Day? I looked like a complete loser..."

He closed his eyes for a second, the expression on his face pained.

"Oh, God. Look, I know I fucked up..."

"Just a bit," she interrupted with a snarl."

"Please, please... Honestly, it was unavoidable, I... I really, really wanted to be there. You have no idea how much... I will, I really will make it up to you, I swear..."

He was pleading now, and although she let no sign of it show on her face, she couldn't help being slightly swayed by his protestations. It was, after all, true; lawyers at his firm were not supposed to have personal lives, and short of quitting the job that meant they could afford their Chelsea flat, he had not had much option. And forgetting her cell phone when she'd set out for the fancy restaurant had not been a wise move on her part, either.

She turned her back on him, and let a fleeting grin pass over her face. No, it wasn't the divorce-worthy offence it had felt last night, when she had been sat, alone, looking like a total ass, and totally livid, but... she had been right. There was definitely mileage in this one to make him pay.

She felt him move up behind her, burying his face in her hair as he murmured his apologies into her ear. Yes, she definitely had the upper hand she had been hoping for, preparing for... she might as well make use of it.

Slowly she turned around into his arms, as she moved beginning to unfasten the buttons of her blouse. His eyes widened in confusion, and she felt him start to respond to her.

"OK."

He was still completely confused. "OK what?"

"You can make it up to me. Starting now."

She had reached the last button and the white cotton gaped open. "You know what I like," she told him, leaning her backside against his desk, her tone curt and businesslike.

"I... I..."

She glared at him; she could see the sentences forming in his brain, that this was his workplace, that the door wasn't even locked; that though the junior staff members would not dare disturb him, the senior partners could walk in at any moment. That she should not even really be here.

He had evidently decided that her wrath was liable to be worse than his boss's, or at least that hers was staring him in the face. His boss might discover him in flagrante delicto and bust his ass, but at least it was only a possibility, not the certainty of anger right in front of him.

He reached up and pushed the material away, exposing the swell of her flesh under the pale pink lace of her bra. Tenderly cradling her breasts, he bent to tease her nipple through the satin of the cup with his teeth and his tongue, and she let her head loll back. He caressed and massaged, and she sighed with pleasure, but eventually she reached up to hook her thumb into the edge of the right cup, dragging it down till the nipple popped free.

"Come on," she muttered, liberally lacing her tone with annoyance, so he would know she was not going to let him off lightly. He glanced up at her; she could see on his face that he was struggling between the realisation that she was going to push him as hard as she could, with no thought for the consequences, and the reluctant arousal that came with the risk, the fact that there she was, in his office, practically forcing him to undress her. She grinned as he lowered his mouth again; she would bet that if she cared to find out, she would discover that he was already rock hard.

He swirled his tongue expertly over her nipple and the naked skin of her breast, and she allowed herself to groan gently, reaching up to caress his dark hair. Evidently deciding that he might as well enjoy his role, he slipped his hands around her back and deftly unhooked her bra, then pushed her blouse off over her shoulders. She quickly shrugged it off, but let him slowly peel away her bra, teasing her with light touches from the tips of his fingers as he did so.

He gazed at her for a moment, enjoying the sight of his wife half naked on his own desk. Without even thinking about it, he reached up to loosen his tie, and she slapped his hands away and then grabbed the offending item and tugged him close.

"You don't get to be comfortable," she whispered, then summarily pushed his face back down into her cleavage.

He got the message.

She let him boost her up so she was sitting on the edge of the desk, and then on impulse lay back so that he had to lean over her. She was, she knew, probably crushing important legal documents, but she was more engrossed in the feel of his mouth as he took each of her nipples into his mouth and then both at once.

He was getting into his part; he mouth moved to her belly without her insistence, and she let herself drift as he nibbled and licked his way south, his hands lightly feathering up her sides and then moving back to tweak her nipples.

He hesitated at her waistband, looking up at her with pleading eyes. She gave a one shouldered shrug. The implication was clear -- she was not going to let him off that lightly. He pulled away and turned, moving towards the door.

"Don't lock it," she barked, and his face fell. He was debating the wisdom of giving in to her, but the idea that they could get caught at any moment was too enticing to give up out of pity. She stared him down, and eventually he let out a breath, resigned, and crossed back to look down at her.

Unrelenting, she pointedly placed his hand on the zip of her skirt; he drew in a deep breath, and slowly edged it down, as if he were hoping she would change her mind. She flicked open the button herself, and then sighed with satisfaction as he slipped the garment down her thighs until it dropped to the floor.

She heard his groan, one part lust to two parts despair, when he saw that she was wearing hold up stockings and tiny, shiny black bikini briefs. She leaned her head back to the desk and allowed herself another grin as she let her thighs fall open slightly. She knew exactly how he would react to the barely-clad sight of her freshly denuded pussy, and it had been worth every strip of wax.

He pressed himself into her, reaching for her breasts, and she could feel how hard he was through the formal trousers as he leaned over her to kiss her. Or at least to try to.

"I don't want you kissing my mouth," she said, then smiled lasciviously. She could see in his face that for a moment, he had forgotten that he was atoning. The realisation that his cock was going to have to wait its turn fell like a shadow across his expression.

"Oh fuck," he murmured, his voice unnaturally high pitched.

"And no cheating," she added. "I want your--" she grabbed his crotch "--full attention."

He nodded; "Habeas corpus," she thought to herself, as she let him go and pushed his head down to her belly again, then lay back to enjoy his ministrations.

His senses on high alert, he noticed for the first time in years how good her skin tasted, how soft it was; how much of a turn on it was when he nipped her flesh and she shuddered at his touch.

Even reluctant, his perfectionist spirit forced him to be thorough; she squirmed in pleasure as he nibbled his way lower, his hands stroking her backside, tickling her inner thigh. He let his mouth drift achingly lightly over her, the fine, semi-transparent fabric just enough to make her wish he would rip it off already, and then ran his tongue up the crease at the top of her leg.

Already turned on by the situation, by the power she held over him, the teasing she was used to was suddenly almost unbearable. He licked her through the fine material and she bucked beneath him; he slipped a finger inside her panties to run along her slit, and she swore aloud. He hooked his thumbs into the sides of the briefs and began to side them slowly down her legs, and she had to bite her tongue not to tell him to get a fucking move on and eat her out already.

With each inch of flesh exposed, he kissed her skin again, deliberately letting his lips trace a line somewhat tamely down her leg, knowing it would infuriate her. Then finally he let the garment drop down to her ankles. Gently, he spread her thighs, hooking her knees over his shoulders.

"You're delicious," he murmured, and the heartfelt words turned her on almost as much as his skilful and well practised foreplay. He leaned in close, and she heard him inhale; she imagined his face as he savoured the scent of her arousal. He leaned in a little further, and she felt his breath against her, hot against her skin; and then he gently licked into her.

The contact that she had been anticipating since before she had entered the room was electric, and her chilly facade dropped as she gasped his name, and grasped hold of his head, tangling her fingers in his hair.

Hungrily, he lapped at her, sucking and licking like a man dying of thirst whose only source of moisture was her wet pussy. She had been used to getting good head, but today it seemed like he was inspired. His tongue danced over her slick folds, and when he took her clit into his mouth she almost cried out. Biting on her lip, she managed to stifle her moans of pleasure. She felt him slip a couple of fingers inside her; she moved against his touch, and then gasped as he found her g-spot. The orgasm she had been trying to hold back burst over her, and she bucked under him. Still he licked her, and as the spasms of ecstasy began to fade he sucked hard and despite her best efforts she couldn't help crying out as she began to come again.

Intent on her own pleasure, she clasped his head to her crotch, and he continued to lap at her, circling her now swollen and sensitised clit, riding the very edge of what she could bear.

Finally, she could take no more, and pulled him away. His face was soaked with her juices, and he looked dazed -- a little how she felt, she realised.

"Need you... inside me... now," she gasped out, pulling herself up so that she could reach for him, fumbling to get to his fly and free the hard on that was making a tent in his trousers. For a moment he was still not caught up with events, but then he was aiding her, and his cock was free in seconds, his hands parting her thighs again, entering her even before she was ready, afraid she would change her mind.

He was hard and thick inside her, and she relished the feel of him, how he filled her, how he parted her lush wetness again and again. Her body and senses already flying, it seemed only moments till she was gasping again, so close, her arms around his neck but her head thrown back, and then she shuddered as another intense orgasm rolled over her.

He did not lose his rhythm for a second, and as she resurfaced she could hear in his voice that her body contracting around his hard-on had brought him close to the edge. For a moment, she considered having mercy, and then she pushed him away and scooted herself further onto the desk; missing the feel of him inside her, but reminding herself that this was, after all, his punishment.

He stood, gaping, his cock shiny wet from her pussy, and looked at her, dumbfounded. She gently shoved him away from the desk to give her room to hop down, and began to gather her clothing.

"But... but I... you..."

Slipping her skirt up over her thighs, she glanced up at him.

"You don't get to come just yet, my sweet," she told him, her voice saccharin. She quickly donned her bra and then retrieved the crumpled blouse from the floor. As she buttoned it, she commented, "Damn, I am going to have to iron this again..."

He simply stared at her, his face a picture as he realised that yes, she really did mean it.

She picked up the black briefs and shoved them into his unresisting hand.

"You can keep these for the moment." She grinned wickedly. "There's a matching bra... I was wearing them last night, too." She cocked her head to one side and looked at him speculatively. "If you're very, very good, I might show you."

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and he realised, with a jolt that made his cock ache, that besides the extra flush to her cheeks, no one would know she had just come her brains out, or that her delicious, naked pussy was only inches out of sight under her staid looking skirt. Suddenly she reminded him of the eighteen year old he'd met at college, and he remembered how they had fucked like rabbits every chance they had got...

"Happy Valentine's Day," she said, and the strolled away from him, as casual as if she had just stopped by to drop off a card. "You should let me down more often." She turned back to look at him with her hand on the door and looked him up and down, nodding in satisfaction as she noted the raging hard-on that still refused to fade. Later... later they would both get what they wanted. And this would fuel their fantasies for weeks, she was sure. "See you at home."

She winked and sidled out, closing the door behind her. He stared at it for a second, then down at his erection, wondering which was the worst risk; being caught jerking off, or attempting to work through complex cases with her scent hanging in the room like nasal Viagra and most of the blood in his body concentrated in his crotch.

He shook his head as he crossed the room and locked the door, then turned to lean on it, so in need of immediate release that he didn't even move to sit back down. She knew how to make her point, he thought, as he began to pump his hand up and down his cock; and he wondered if he'd have to wait till next year before he got the chance to stand her up again...

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