A Romance, In Pieces Ch. 02

He smiled, his eyes working down over her heaving breasts to the smooth supple curve of her pussy. She watched as he leaned in, propped up on her elbows, glancing nervously over the glass divider to the open room beyond. "No one's coming," he said softly, the tip of his beard brushing her mons. He wrapped his arms around her legs and tugged her ass to the edge of the desk. "Not yet anyway."

She was already slick when his mouth met her labia, her inner thighs damp against his cheeks. She sighed long and loud, her shoulders flattening against the desk, head hanging over the edge. Her fingers clawed at the glass, the volume and frequency of the resulting squeaks increasing with each flick of his tongue. He spread her a little wider, exploring her folds, teasing the hood of her clit. She squirmed beneath him, seemingly directing his movements, steering him to steer her over the crest of the approaching wave.

He worked a little faster, probing her with a finger, varying pressure on her clit, sucking it into his mouth. Her fingers curled into fists, her stomach pulsed with the beat of her diaphragm pulling and pushing short shallow breaths through her lungs. He paused a moment, kissing her belly and thighs, smearing her wetness over her sex. He looked up to see her, mouth open, eyes narrow, her neck craning to watch. He flashed a smile, then went back down.

"Oh my...god," she moaned, forcing the last word from her throat with a growl. He swirled his tongue across her labia, dipping in and out of her slit, probing and prodding. Her hips undulated against his face, swiping her pussy up and down from his chin to his nose. He breathed her in, filling his chest and his head with her scent, savoring her flavor in his mouth. She tasted like no one else he'd ever been with. So light, and a little sweet. He wanted more. Needed more.

He relocated a hand between her legs, covering her entire sex, a milk chocolate wedge between her milky white thighs. He pressed the heel against her button, gently nudging up and down, rolling in little circles. Lucy's hips shuddered, her breath now sharp and irregular. He slowed as she revved up, revved as she slowed, taunting her, delaying her climax a few moments longer.

She bucked against his hand now, her head back, hand over her mouth, stifled screams punctuating her ragged breath. Her legs trembled on his shoulders, sending shivers down his back and through his groin. He flashed back to those moments in the dim yellow light of the stock room on that rainy afternoon in January. Him slumped against the wall, legs stiff, fingers digging into her shoulders. Her on her knees in front of him, lips sealed around his cock, the head bumping the back of her throat. That feeling -- that electric thrill -- he wanted her to feel that now. Taking firm hold of her hips once more, he buried his face in her pussy, sucking her clit into his mouth.

Lucy lost control. Her hips shook with an orgasm so violent her ass chattered against the desktop. Her muscles contracted, forcing breath from her body, squeezing Andre's head between her thighs. He felt her hands on the back of his head, holding him -- pushing him against her pussy, her cum spilling over his lips and chin. He tweaked the pressure on her clit, pulsing, prolonging her peak as long as he could. He felt her heels crossing his back, clutching him tight, wanting to devour him.

Eventually her spasms subsided, her muscles relaxed, and she released him, her legs falling heavy to the desk. He took one last sip of her nectar, then looked up from her peach, his ears burning, eyes smiling. Trembling, she reached out, searching for his arms. When he offered them, she pulled herself upright, took him by the head, and locked her mouth to his.

His breath became hers, the heat of the moment swirling between them. Her tongue searched for his, savoring herself on his lips. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, pressing her breasts against his chest, her mound against the straining monster in his pants, radiating waves of pleasure from his core. His fingers contracted with each pulse, leaving depressions in her thigh and the small of her back.

"Fuck me," she growled, grinding her pelvis into his cock, her ass sliding freely in the puddle of juices beneath her. Andre chuckled.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to work?"

"Fuck work," she spat back. "The walls can wait."

Their lips still tangled, Andre peeled apart the clasp of his khakis and shoved the garments down out of the way. His cock sprang out at full attention, rock hard and ready to respond. Lucy looked down, a groan escaping her throat as she saw it bobbing before her. As she hesitated, he took action, hoisting her off the desk and setting her back on her feet; pinning his member between them a moment as he kissed her one more time. Then, with a firm grip on her hip and shoulder, he spun her around facing away, his penis erect between her cheeks.

She needed no further encouragement, spreading her feet apart and bending at the waist, flattening her breasts against the desk. She had a magnificent ass: round and firm and glistening in the white light of the afternoon. He admired it as he stepped out of his shoes and slacks, planting one hand firmly on one cheek, gripping his anxious cock with the other. He leaned forward squeezing her flesh and placing the tip of his penis at the sopping entrance to her tunnel.

She cooed softly as he nudged it just between her lips and slipped along the length of her slit, glazing the head with her wetness, preparing for the plunge. She arched her back and pushed up on her toes, craving his touch, demanding his presence. Andre felt a rumble in his throat, a jolt in his balls. He steadied himself, adjusted his angle, and with a slow steady pressure, sank his cock in her vagina.

Lucy gasped. Her head whipped around, mouth open, eyes bulging. "Holy...ffffuck," she stammered, her legs trembling as she struggled to accommodate his girth. He slowed halfway, his eyes catching her attention. She bit her lip and closed her eyes. Reaching back, she took hold of the hand on her ass and tugged on it, urging him forward. Satisfied, he took a firm hold of her hips and pushed the rest of his dick inside.

When his balls touched her labia he stopped, sighed, savoring the hot pink velvet cocoon now fully engulfing him. She finally exhaled, flattening her feet on the floor once more. She cycled several deep breaths, clawing at the desktop while trying to relax. Andre remained still until her head rested against the glass and her pussy released its stranglehold on his cock. Her juices flooded around him, greasing the way for the return trip. She opened her eyes and looked at him. Lust dripping from her lips and gravel in her voice she uttered, "Fuck me."

He drew himself out to the head of his cock, then pushed back in deep, leaning on her ass, holding her in place. His strokes began slow and smooth, the fit snug, her snatch suckling his member. With each retreat she drew a breath, with each thrust escaped a sigh; barely audible at the start, but growing louder and longer as his strokes grew quicker and stronger.

She fit him like a glove, the seams and ridges in all the right places. He fell like he belonged inside her, like her canal was molded for his cock. He relished the pressure squeezing his shaft, sending shivers of pleasure from his balls to his brain. She pushed her ass back against him, her sighs taking on a lusty edge. He tightened his grip on her hips and took over, jerking her pussy over his pumping member.

She moaned into the glass, thumping her palms against the desk. Andre curled over her, the weight of his chest on her back, his abdomen curved around her butt. She writhed beneath him, working his shaft in and out. He raked her hair aside, gathering it in his opposite hand. "You feel so good," he whispered, his hot breath swirling over her ear. She smiled, her cheeks flush, face warm.

"Pull it," she said. Andre's eyebrows dipped, confused. She shook her head, her hair tugging against his fist. "Pull my hair." Andre straightened up, his right arm extended, fingers tangled in the locks resting between her shoulder blades. He plunged his cock in deep and curled his bicep, craning her neck and lifting her chest from the glass.

"Oh god yes," she grunted, her head held back, her mouth open, her back bent in an impossible arch. His cock hit differently inside her now. Her vagina gripped tighter, a new twist near the deep end. His shaft pulsed with the new sensations, driving him to shorter, stronger strokes. Her tugged harder at her hair, using it for leverage to quicken his pace. Her groans sharpened, now ragged like her breath, and she abandoned her attempts to cover them up.

He looked down at her ass, her silky cheeks rippling each time he crashed into her. His thick dark rod disappeared repeatedly between them, emerging each time slick with her cream, strands of it clinging to their legs and dripping from his desk. A surge of pleasure shot through his body tightening his abs and buzzing his balls. He closed his free hand around the other and pulled back harder, now hilting his cock with each thrust. Lucy squealed, her muscles taught, goosebumps rising on her arms and legs.

Andre turned her head to see her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips forming words he could not hear. She sucked in a breath, holding it, her body stiff and straining before him. Her legs began to shake, and the walls of her pussy flexed around his cock. He slowed his stroke and held her hair tight as a deep longing moan escaped her throat and reverberated in his ears.

She slammed her ass back into his pelvis, impaling herself on his cock, her juices spilling out around it. She shivered all over, her voice wavering, expelling her release. She bounced against him several times before her legs turned to jelly and her arms gave out. He let go of her hair and she collapsed on the desk, her chest heaving, breath fogging the glass. He gave her ass a gentle smack. She flinched, her hips twitching, a smile creasing her lips. "Fuck you," she chuckled. Andre smiled. Still hard, he slipped his cock from her vagina.

Lucy's face changed. Her eyes narrowed, jaw tightened. She pushed herself up off the desk and spun around to face him. She looked down at his penis bobbing to the beat of his heart and frowned. "Put it back," she growled. Andre smiled. She did not. She pressed her hands into his chest, shoving him backward and thumping him into the wall, pinning his erection between them. "Are you still hard," she asked, her voice a forced whisper. He glanced down, then raised his eyes to meet hers. "Then we're not finished."

She smashed her lips into his in a searing kiss, throwing her arms around his neck and grinding his cock against her stomach. Andre took her by the waist, rolling them along the wall until their positions were reversed. Laughing, she repeated his motion, and he hers, landing them just inches from the window. Lucy looked down into the city, then out to the shimmering blue of the lake. He could feel her heart pounding through her breast. She wrapped a leg around him and turned back, her eyes glowing in the light. "Put it back."

Hoisting her up Andre lowered her dripping pussy onto his cock. They sighed together, her legs curling around his waist, his arms around her back. He thrust into her with reckless abandon, her head and her ass thumping the sheetrock. On the back side of the wall something fell from its perch and clattered to the floor. "Shit," he muttered under his breath, "that's my boss's office."

"The one that designed that curtain wall?" Lucy panted. She threw her shoulders into it, knocking something else loose. "Fuck that bitch."

They laughed as they fucked, savoring each other's bodies, the afternoon sun warming their skin. Andre relished her nails clawing at his back, the smell of her hair draped over his face, the heat of her sex enveloping his cock. A familiar sensation boiled in his core. He held her tighter, squeezing the meat of her ass in his hands, delaying the inevitable just a little longer. She groaned into his neck and shoulders, her breath again short and staccato. His balls tightened, his cock throbbed, aching for release. He dipped his head to the crook of her neck, his lips grazing her ear. "Lucy," he whispered, "I'm cumming."

Without a word Lucy locked her legs around his waist, her heels clutching at his buttocks, holding him deep inside. Andre's hips shuddered, cock strained. Driving her ass into the wall he ejected jets of white-hot semen into her pussy. She gasped with each eruption, clenching her thighs and gritting her teeth. He crushed into her, cheek to cheek, her breath scalding his neck; three months of fantasy and desire flowing into her.

...

He didn't know who opened their eyes first, or which was the first to smile at the other. Gathering his remaining strength, he carried her back to his desk and set her gently in his chair. She released his waist and he stepped back, drawing his cock from her vagina, trailing strands of cum along her thighs. Lucy looked herself over, then him. Raising a hand, she beckoned him closer. When he was within reach, she grasped his cock by the base and took it into her mouth. Andre sighed, feeling her tongue swirling over his glans, watching her lips polish his shaft with the mixture of their fluids. When she was satisfied, she let him go. She wiped her mouth with her finger and looked up at him, a mischievous curl in her lip. She crossed her legs and shrugged. "I can't help it."

Andre laughed. He scooped her clothes off the floor and passed them to her before fishing up his own. Leaning on the edge of his desk he stepped into his boxers and khakis. "There's a bathroom across from reception," he said, buttoning up, "if you'd like somewhere to clean up."

Lucy traced a finger through a splotch of semen staining her thigh. She shook her head. "I'm good, thanks." She slipped her underwear over her feet and eased them up over her hips. "Can I ask you something?" she said, repeating the motions with her jeans. Andre looked at her, eyes expectant. "Is it always like that?"

"Like what," he frowned.

She paused, searching for the word. "Perfect?"

Andre smiled, sheepishly. "Only with you." Lucy snatched a pencil from his desk and flicked it at him, clipping him in the shoulder. They laughed together, eyes lingering on one another, holding onto the moment.

When she finally broke away Andre dug his phone from his pocket. "I'm sorry," he said, lighting up his lock screen, "I've made you late for work."

She rolled her eyes. "First day in six years," she replied. "They'll get over it." She rose from the seat and stepped over to him, holding out her hand. "Let me see that."

As he placed it in her palm she swiped her own phone from her back pocket and placed it in his fingers. He watched as she swiped several times, tapping the screen with her thumbs. "What are you doing," he asked.

"Letting you know how to find me," she replied, "in case that's something you decide to want to do." She glanced down at her phone in his hands. Cluing in, he navigated to her address book and created an entry for his number. Finished, he offered it back to her. She took it without returning his, instead slipping them both into the back pockets of her jeans. Andre cocked his head. "Come get it," she quipped.

He smiled, pushing away from the desk toward her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close, touching his forehead to hers. She tip-toed up, curling her arms around his neck, planting a soft, tender extended kiss on his lips. He dropped a hand from her waist down over her ass to her left pocket. "Other side," she whispered to his mouth. His fingers wandered to the right side and gave her cheek a gentle squeeze.

"That's not my phone," he chuckled.

"It isn't?" she asked, feigning surprise. "My bad. You must have been right the first time." Andre retrieved his phone and dropped it into his pocket.

"You just wanted me to grab your ass, didn't you."

Lucy shrugged. "I told you," she replied, "I can't help it."

Andre laughed, giving her butt one final pinch for good measure. "Come on," he said, "I'll walk you out."