Under His Desk Ch. 02byyuna1981©
I ring the doorbell to the Johnsons' home. It's been two days since my little encounter with Mr. Johnson, and I've thought of little else since; my desire for Mr. Johnson has been all-consuming. After his long work jag, he took the weekend off, and I did not see him step foot in his office. However, it's Monday again and here I am, waiting to see how he'll react to my presence. I'm here to baby-sit again, as usual, but now the circumstances are, shall we say, unusual to say the very least.
Mr. Johnson steps into the foyer, I can hear his footsteps. Not heavy, mind you, he's quite agile, but his steps are confident, and even the sound of his footsteps get me excited because they are uniquely his. He opens the door.
I can't quite breathe. He looks so amazing, in just jeans and a white T-shirt, but his tall form towers over me, casting a shadow , and it's almost like the shadow has a physical form, and I can feel it on my body. "Hi." I say simply.
"Hi," he replies, smiling broadly, squinting at me a bit, into the late afternoon sun.
Then, he turns around quickly to check behind him. All's clear. He pulls me into the house, shuts the door, and grabs me and kisses me passionately, crushing my body against his and filling my mouth with his tongue. Almost as quickly as the kiss begun, it was over, a flash of intensity that almost knocked me over backwards.
"We have to be careful," he whispered, and then, in a normal voice, "Glad you are here now Kim, I've got to get back to it. Kyle is playing in his room."
"Sure, Mr. Johnson," I agree, also in a normal voice, though mine's not quite as composed as his. Then, I whisper, "Oh my God."
He chuckles. "We can sneak little tastes here and there." Then, pushing me backwards up against the door, he kisses me again, this time running his hands over my front, starting at my stomach and then pushing up to my breasts, which he grabs fully with his hands, squeezing them, and then he buries his face in my neck, covering it in a warm enveloping kiss.
Infatuated slut that I am this is already enough to have me copiously wet and nearly out of my mind, but again, this stops almost before it starts, and he turns around quickly and heads to his office. I need to compose myself for a second to get myself into a totally calm frame of mind before I go in to Kyle's room. I sneak into the powder room in the hall for a second, splash my face with cold water, and then pull down my denim shorts and tiny lace pink panties, to see them soaked already. I wipe them a little, and wipe my wet folds a little, just to clean up so i don't have the distraction of wet stickiness reminding me that Mr. Johnson is working only a few feet away. Then I finish up, wash my hands, and head out of the powder room into Kyle's room.
When I step in, I see that he's at his little desk, drawing with colored pencils. He's already more talented of an artist than I am, though that might say more about me than him, in fact though I'm awful, he is actually very good. How could you expect Mr. Johnson's kid to be anything but talented? Kyle's so easy to take care of; this is the easiest baby-sitting job I've ever had. Although now, it's turning out to be the most exciting as well.
Kyle and I draw together for awhile, until it's time for his dinner. We go to the kitchen together, and he sits at the table, still working on his drawing, while I make some mac and cheese. Mr. Johnson comes out to visit us, and gives Kyle a quick kiss on the forehead and checks out his drawing. "That's awesome, buddy!" he exclaims, looking at Kyle's masterpiece-in-progress. Kyle beams up at his dad, and my heart beats a little faster. Why does Mr. Johnson have to be so perfect at everything?
Mr. Johnson then glances up at me, and his piercing blue eyes are just like a stethoscope, I can swear that he knows my pulse is racing. He walks over to me, stepping behind the island with me, and while he checks out the mac and cheese and says, "That mac and cheese looks delicious," he grabs my left buttock hard and squeezes it, pressing my flesh into his strong grip, sending shock waves of pleasure coursing through my body. Then walking away and whistling, he heads back to his office, leaving me shakily finishing up making Kyle's mac and cheese.
Kyle has his dinner, while I stick his new picture on the fridge with a magnet. Then we head to the living room, where Kyle and I watch a little TV. He's laying on his stomach on a bean bag, about 2 feet away from the front of the TV, while I am lounging in a comfy chair, working on a problem set. Mr. Johnson comes in when the show is almost over, and hangs out watching for a second. We're looking at each other, and under the burn of his gaze I can feel my face getting hot. He hands me a folded note, and mouths, "Read it in a little bit." Kyle's show ends, and I shut off the TV.
"I'll put him to bed," Mr. Johnson volunteers, and I nod.
"Night, Kyle," I say cheerily.
"Night!" Kyle exclaims back, and skips out of the living room with his dad, headed off to bed. I hear Kyle ask for a story, so I know it'll be a few minutes.
After they leave the room, I quickly open the note:
Kim, you've managed to do the impossible -- distract me from my work. Oh, I sit here, trying to do it, but all I can think about is you, in my house, and I keep coming up with reasons to come out and see you. We should have about one hour after Kyle goes to bed to ourselves before Ellen comes back from her ER shift. That's not enough time to do everything I want to do with you, but it's enough to do something interesting. I want you to go in to my bedroom, remove your clothes, and get on my bed and wait for me. I'm going to fuck your little pussy tonight, until you want to scream. But you can't. Make sure you stay very quiet tonight, and I'll see that a good girl gets everything she deserves. ~Chris.
Of course, reading this note has me soaking wet already. I fold it up, put it in my jean shorts pocket, and head to Mr. Johnson's room, as he has instructed. As I walk there, I can feel the wetness between my legs slip a little down my thighs. The lips of my labia are rubbing together, sliding as I walk, and the long evening of being teased is becoming unbearable just at the moment that the teasing will finally be over. I wonder what Mr. Johnson has in store for me?
I step into his bedroom. Well, their bedroom. A slight tinge of guilt strikes me. I wonder what's going on with their marriage? She works a lot, and long hours. I push thoughts of her, and the questionable morality of what I'm doing, aside. I can feel it there, though, in the pit of my stomach, reminding me that what I'm doing is probably very wrong. Slut, I think to myself. You kind of like that it's wrong. How twisted is your mind, that this actually makes it hotter for you?
I nod my head as if to shake all of the thoughts out. I know that if I think about this much more, I won't do it. I'd rather let my body take over, the ravenous hunger I feel deep inside my sex wants to think for me. I feel helpless to it, I must submit to myself.
Removing my clothes, I pull my t-shirt above my head, and step out of my denim shorts. I had donned my favorite lace bra and panty set, a cardinal pink that I also had painted my fingernails and toes. There was a mirror above his bed, and I saw my reflection. I smooth my long black ponytail, I tuck stray hairs behind my ears. I adjust my straps, and swing from side to side a bit, trying to see myself how Mr. Johnson would see me.
As I check out my reflection, out of the corner of my eye I can see him approaching. He enters the bedroom and shuts the door, and looks at me. I look at him looking at me, staring at our visages in the mirror. He steps behind me. Placing his arms around me, he leans down and whispers in my ear with a hot breath, "You look so fucking beautiful."
I lean against him, tipping my head to the side to give him better access to my neck, and he covers it in warm, wet kisses. My body responds instantaneously. Electricity charges through me, from the nerves on my neck straight down into my clit. Watching him kiss me in the mirror is even hotter. His dark brown hair contrasting with my black hair, his large hands on my shoulders. Seeing him bend down over me, administering attentions to my body, is almost too much for me to handle.
He moves from my shoulders, to rub my arms with his large, warm hands, and then wraps his arms around me, and places his palms on my breasts. Groping me, he squeezes them, my nipples harden in a delicious response. He stares into my eyes in the mirror, both of us watching the scene, and I focus on the intensely sexy way that his hands completely cover my breasts. He pinches my nipples between his index and middle fingers, and my knees almost buckle with the sharpness of the pleasure. I gasp, and with a hot breath, he whispers, "Shhhh, shhhhh," in my ear. "You have to keep quiet, if you want to be a good girl."
I nod solemnly, and then break into a smile. "Don't stop," I whisper back. "I'll be good."
"I know," he says. And then he slides the straps over my shoulders, pulling my bra down to my waist and revealing my breasts with their pointed, pink-brown nipples.
He grabs my left breast again, still behind me, and the feeling of his warm flesh on mine is supremely erotic. It's just his hand on my breast now; the rest of him is still clothed, and the fact that I am nearly naked while he still wears his t-shirt and jeans makes what we're doing seem even more forbidden, hotter. As he gropes my breast, he reaches with his right hand down the front of my panties, and slides his middle finger into my sopping wet pussy.
"You are so fucking wet and ready, aren't you?" He asks rhetorically. "I knew you would be."
"I've been ready all night." I inform him, though forming words is getting difficult, with the amazing feeling of his finger exploring my wet, swollen cunt. I squirm against him, and feel his erection poking into my back.
"That's a good girl," he murmurs, rubbing small circles on my hard, aching clit, and then plunging his finger deep inside me. "You're so tight," he compliments approvingly. "I don't know if you are going to be able to handle my dick."
"I can do it!" I protest, whining a little. "Stretch out my pussy, I want your dick inside me so bad."
"Not yet," he intones, a little threateningly. This thrills me. And he yanks down my panties, and slides another finger inside me, forcefully fingering my pussy and hitting my G-spot with two curled fingers, rubbing that rough patch as I lean all my weight against him, trying not to fall down, biting my lip hard to suppress the moans and screams of delight.
The tension in my aching cunt is nearly unbearable, as Mr. Johnson stimulates me, I race toward an orgasm. Suddenly it rips through me, and I spasm on his hand, shuddering violently as he relentlessly keeps his fingers moving, extending my orgasm. I feel like I'm flying for a brief yet infinite moment in time, squealing a quiet yet irrepressible "ahhhh, ahhhh" as I ride his hand. A gush of liquid seeps out around his fingers, and as I come down from my high, I see him pull his fingers out of my pussy, and a sticky string of juices connect my cunt to his fingers, until he pulls it so far that it breaks.
"That's a good girl," he says quietly, and holds his fingers to my mouth. "Now clean off my fingers."
I suck on his fingers, tasting my own juices, which makes me feel incredibly dirty and depraved. Twirling my tongue around his fingertips, I kiss them softly and smile at our reflection. Then Mr. Johnson pushes me toward the bed, guiding me down on all fours. I know he wants to fuck me doggy-style, I know it's one of his favorites.
In the mirror, I watch him unbuckle his belt, and remove his jeans and boxers. Then, he lifts his shirt over his head, and I see his naked body in its entirety, finally. He's gorgeous, with long, lean, ropey muscles, dark patches of masculine hair, a sexy treasure trail pointing to a large, hard cock pointing straight at me. While I'm small and compact, he's lanky, thick only in a few places -- biceps, pecs, thighs. And cock. That thick, veiny, huge shaft, that is seconds away from annihilating my small, swollen, dripping wet pussy.
He steps toward me, closing the small distance between us. I watch him angling his cock toward my pussy entrance. He lays his left hand on my hip, his hot skin searing into me like a brand. His other hand grips his cock, and he starts to push the swollen head of his cock into my pussy lips, slowly, slowly penetrating me, allowing my tight pussy to adjust and accommodate around him.
I bite my lips as he enters me. His cock is so thick, the thickest I've ever felt. It almost hurts for him to enter me. His lips are pursed, he's engrossed in watching my tight little cunt swallow up his cock. I'm so wet that it would be easy for him to tear into me, but the tight grip of my pussy creates a delicious resistance for his thick shaft that he agonizingly sinks in, inch, by inch, by inch. As my tight walls envelop him, he moans quietly, and I dig my fingers into the bedsheets, steadying myself for the coming onslaught.
Gliding into my wet tunnel, his cock head finally pushes into my cervix, and he stops. I am completely filled by Mr. Johnson's cock now, every bit of my tight hole stuffed with his thick meat. "Ready, baby?" he whispers, and I nod, biting my lip and clutching the bedsheets in my fists.
"Fuck." He utters sharply, holding my hips, and then the onslaught begins. Mr. Johnson slams into me, pulling out almost all the way before pounding his cock into fully, with each thrust jamming his mushroom head cock into my G-spot, and I squeak into his bed to muffle the sound each time from the intense pleasure.
"You like it? You like it, baby?" he whispers fiercely.
"Mmm hmm," I moan into the bed.
"God your cunt is tight." He tightens his grasp on my hips, pulling me into him with each thrust, and I am so aroused that my pussy lips have swollen around his cock, creating a squelching sound every time he drives into my dripping wet slit.
I feel like he's going to split me open, and that I'll explode, like nuclear fission. The heat from our enmeshed genitals is like a fiery inferno, and each searing thrust that Mr. Johnson makes into me pushes me closer and closer to that explosion.
Suddenly he grabs my ponytail, yanks my head back, and insists, "Watch it, baby, watch me fucking the hell out of your cunt."
My head locked his grasp, I stare at our reflection in the mirror, watching his movements in and out of me, the sheen of his sweat shining on his pecs, his powerful hand on my hair, his eyes intense and wild like an animal. His powerful thrusts, driving me mad. One hand still on my hip like he owns me. I see my breasts bouncing with the force of his thrusts, my chest red and vasocongested, as I get closer and closer to orgasm. I'm a sweaty, wild-eyed, crazy-haired mess, and I've never felt hotter or more alive, being fucked senseless by my older neighbor.
He pulls my head back hard, and I swear that the shock from that sends waves to my pussy. Then he starts to grunt, and I can tell that he's going to reach orgasm. His grunting noises send me over my edge; he sounds so animalistic, so masculine, so wild. I see him screw his eyes shut, and then an involuntary "fuuuuuuuuck" tears from his lips, as he ejaculates inside my pussy, and I lose control, spasming wildly around his shooting dick, as if my pussy is trying to extract all the cum it can. He's spurting a lot, I can't even tell how many times I feel his hips jerk into me.
As he comes down from his high, he softens and slides out of me with a plop. He glances at his watch, exclaiming, "Jesus, Kim, Ellen's going to be home any minute." I race around, grabbing my clothes frantically, and go to run out of his bedroom door. "Wait," he calls, and I spin around. He crushes his mouth on mine, kissing me deeply, and then looks into my eyes and says, "you are fucking amazing."
I smile widely at him, my heart glowing and my pussy tingling, and say, "See you soon, I hope," and hurry back to my house before Mrs. Johnson comes in. As I run back to my house, I can feel Mr. Johnson's cum leaking into my panties. I rush back into my room, and lay back on my bed, spreading my legs, to fuck myself one more time with Mr. Johnson's cum lubricating my mad fingering thrusts. I dip the fingers from one masturbating hand to my mouth, sucking on those fingers as I rub my cunt madly with the other. I orgasm again, alone, with the comingled taste of Mr. Johnson's cum and mine flavoring my lips. Panting, I sink into my bed, the release from tension making me feel like my body is lava, flowing outwards, and I fall asleep, filled with his cum leaking from my pussy, and traces of his delicious jizz in my mouth. I am utterly satisified.