Hard Day

Content warning: you should read 'Can You Imagine' first due to extreme callbacks. If you don't like that one, you won't like this one, either.

Tiff had to finish her chapter before she could look up, and by then Marcus had passed through the bedroom on the way to the bathroom. "How was work?" she called as the shower stopped and she turned in her chair.

"I want to strangle someone," Marcus replied from out of sight.

Tiff stood and stretched. "It's not me, is it?"

"No, but nearly anyone in the office staff would work."

"Doug again?"

"All of them. Ugh." Shaking his head as she entered the room, he stood at the bathroom mirror. "Every single one."

"Even Jen? I like Jen."

"Jen double! Jen kept trying to engage me in conversation when I was busy, which was all goddamned day. Jeremy crashed that forklift, again. If he doesn't get fired, I'm going to fucking quit."

"Sounds like it's Jeremy's fault," Tiff said, coming up behind. She leaned forward, against him. "So why Jen double? You'd strangle her twice because she was complaining about a shitty thing that happened? You know she just has a crush on you."

"Tiff, I'm tired."

"Okay. Did you eat?"

Marcus nodded as he squeezed the toothpaste and started brushing angrily.

"Sorry your day's been so shitty, but maybe it's still salvageable?"

Marcus stood straighter, glancing at Tiff in the mirror. "You think?"

"I imagine it's possible," Tiff said, her hand moving slowly down his bare stomach. "Can you imagine that?"

"What could happen now to make this day not suck?" Marcus spit. "I can't even..."

"What if Jen knocked on the door right now, with a basket of those cookies she makes."

"Which kind?"

"All the kinds. She's super sorry for dumping on you all day. She suddenly realized how rude it was to vent to a guy who actually has to fill the order she wrote on a piece of paper."

"Imaginary Jen is very considerate," Marcus murmured. He even managed a smile as he rinsed his tooth brush.

"She's also ten years younger, no husband or kids, but she still has those nice round hips. Do you ever imagine taking her by her hips and pulling her close?"

"Sure, I imagine it," Marcus whispered, closing his eyes.

"I'm pretty sure she does, too," Tiff said. "I don't think I've ever seen her go more than half a minute without checking out your ass. She isn't just here to apologize. She saw you working away, sweat glistening on your manly shoulders."

"I was wearing a shirt."

"Not in her imagination."

"Now you're imagining her imagination?"

"If I choose. Anyway, she came here tonight because she couldn't stop thinking about you. how you're just the best."

Marcus smirked, turning toward her. "I doubt she really thinks that."

"She told me," Tiff assured him. She continued in the upbeat cadence Jen used when they had discussed Marcus, "'Marcus is just the best.' She's appalled by the notion that she caused you emotional harm and wants to make it up to you."

Marcus laughed hard, embracing her. "Oh Tiff," he chuckled. "I needed that."

Tiff put her hands on his ass. "Do you need anything else?"

"Let's just lie down," he said. He pulled her to the bed and they fell side by side. After struggling their way beneath the covers, Tiff lay with her back to him, spooned with his strong right arm beneath her head. His breath was warm on her shoulder, steady and slow. She repositioned his left hand to her breast. "You must have been writing something good tonight."

"Actually, it was pretty naughty," she admitted.

"Naughtier than fantasizing about a real person I work with?" Marcus asked.

"You don't like that?"

"It's kind of weird," Marcus told her. "A one off with celebrities was one thing, but... I just don't think of Jen like that."

"Fair enough. Well, I can easily imagine that you did quit because of all those jerks, and you got a job at a new company called Wooden Erections. They were all really stressed out on your first day, because of all the erecting they had to do, and you were a little slow, thrown into a brand new shop. They were all impatient assholes to you, and they want to apologize."

"How many?"

"Another carpenter, his name is Steve. An office wench, Dana. And... they just got a new forklift driver. His name is Kenny Lifter, and he's actually actor Stuart Allman, researching a role for a movie where he plays a forklift operator who gets into the wrong situation and ends up having to save the world by moving freight very carefully."

Marcus laughed heartily, hugging her tight. "I love you so much, Tiff," he said. "Then what happened?"

"Well, we let them in of course. They brought wine and a fruit basket, so we open it all up to share as we get to know one another better. They treat you like you're the god-emperor of carpentry. Dana wants you so bad, the men want to be you. they want to know all about how you got to be so fucking amazing. Because you're so modest, and since it's undeniably true, you give all the credit to me. The love of a good woman motivates you and makes you a better man."

"You're so sexy when your head swells up like that," Marcus murmured, nuzzling her shoulder.

"I could say the same to you," Tiff said, rubbing her ass on his hardening dick. "Can you imagine if Dana was laying down behind you, a hand on your cock and her whole body pressed against yours?"

"Mmhmm," Marcus answered.

"I imagine that she grabs you tight, holding you down, when Steve and Kenny can no longer stand all the innuendo we've been dropping throughout the conversation."

"Do they take you away from me?"

"Kenny Lifter takes my leg beneath one arm, his forearm straight out, parallel to the other supporting my torso."

Marcus laughed himself breathless, hugging her tight. "Please tell me he makes forklift sounds."

Tiff nodded earnestly. "And as he's backing up, he goes 'Beeep beeep bee...'"

"What are you wearing?"

"Just these very pyjamas, but Steve is already untying my pants." Tiff untied them, and Marcus' hand slid in the back to push them down. She wriggled from them and moved his hand to her breast. "His callused hands pull the buttons open and slide the flannel from my shoulder so he can nibble my silken skin. Together with Lifter, they hold me up while they undress me fully, right in front of you."

Teeth brushed her slender shoulder, breath warm upon her skin as Marcus caressed her breasts. "How are you reacting to all of this?"

"I'm looking at you to gage your reaction," Tiff said.

"That's cheating."

"Maybe, but I imagine you would be a little alarmed at first, your immediate instinct being to spring up. Dana holds you down, but it's not like you were trying very hard to escape. Your wide eyes are alive with passion."

"Mm," Marcus said lazily. "What exactly does that look like?"

"It isn't a look, it's more like a feeling. Electricity in the air as you anticipate the moment they spread my legs." Tiff opened them, laying back against him and draping one over. "You can see how wet it is, can't you? You can smell it. You can feel it beneath your fingers..."

"I thought I was being held down by Dana."

"Then Steve can feel it. You can see it shining, and hear the soft slurping as Steve strokes my slit."

"So I see."

A warm blush rose in Tiff's face and she swirled her hips faster, her butt harder against him as he reached around her. "Can you imagine these guys fondling my naked body in front of you?"

Marcus nodded against her.

"Can you imagine if Dana took a hold of your dick to see how hard it was?" Tiff asked, reaching back to place her hand on his thigh. "How hard is it?"

Marcus pressed it harder against her buttcheek then slipped it down and popped it between her legs. He used the head to nudge her clit. "You tell me," he asked, and shoved it in.

"Is this your cock or Steve's?" Tiff asked.

"I'm being held down by a buxom office wench. Steve couldn't wait any more. I can tell in my peripheral vision that he's glaring at me... like, sneering, but I'm looking straight into your eyes. I can feel your excitement, too. The energy coming off you."

"I'm looking right back at you," Tiff murmured, grinding his cock deeper. "Do you see the way he's fucking me so fast?"

Marcus pounded faster and harder. "Go on," he said. "What happens next?"

"Mm, Kenny Lifter sets me carefully down into a lounger we suddenly have in this room. Our room is suddenly much bigger, too."

"It would have to be," he grunted.

"Steve sits on it, and Lifter delivers me safely to his lap, right back onto his big, thick wood. Lifter raises and lowers me into position, 'Drrrrrrrr-droooooo.'"

Marcus chuckled roughly.

"Steve is so deep in me, Marcus. He whispers that he wants to cum in my pussy, fill it up with his hot spunk, and I look at you. You're still gaping, your eyes darting between mine and my drenched pussy as it swallows up this strange, new cock. Your lips are moving, but I'm not sure you're even forming words. When your eyes return to me, you nod.

"'Yes,' I say. 'My pussy is burning for a load of cum. Please, put it deep in me.' His fat dick throbs as I speak, he ejaculates, leaving me full of his gooey cum. I can feel his cock pulsing, squirting into me and spreading sticky warmth to every crevice inside.

"I have the feeling you're ready to see how wet I am now," Tiff said. "You're about ready to pop, too, aren't you?"

Marcus moaned lustily, squeezing her breasts as he thrust harder.

"You're fucking me so good, Marcus," Tiff gasped. "You fuck me so much better than those other cocks, they were just getting me ready for yours. All the semen they left in me is splashing out, gushing down your cock and balls, trickling down our legs..."

"How many guys came in you again?"

"In my imagination? Oh man, there were like a dozen of them but secretly all part of the same shape shifting alien hive mind, each one leaving a deposit of hot sticky cum in my throbbing pussy. It's sloshing inside me, I can feel it. I can hear it. fuck, your huge dick is churning it into froth, a milky white liquid that splashes out every time you thrust in."

Marcus thrust hard and deep, and swirled his hips as her pussy clenched and squeezed him. He held her tight as his body jerked and his ejaculate shot into her.

Tiff reached down as his member slid free, flopping over, then getting up to her hands and knees. She played her fingertips around her quivering hole, coaxing a slimy drip out. She spread it forward, stroking her labia and clit with increasingly moist fingers.

"Oh, your cum is so nice and slippery," Tiff said. Rubbing her swollen clit, Tiff began to rock her hips as her pussy began to burn. "The sexy smooth motion around my cum dripping gash makes my body rock..." Tiff glanced up at a soft snore but it didn't slow her down. "That's okay, I got what I wanted from you..."

Tiff's pussy gushed a little more, the contractions of her flesh pushed more cum out, dripping so she could smear it as she rubbed. She cried out as she climaxed, her back arching and her hand clamped to her spasming gash. She sighed as she rolled to her side. "I feel like I lost my flow there," she admitted to herself.

"You didn't lose it," Marcus whispered. "I think you got carried away by it."

"Sorry."

"No need. You did better than salvage this day. You pulled it back up before it could sink."

"I love it when you carry on my metaphors," Tiff sighed.

"I love everything right now," Marcus sighed back. He rolled over to hold her as he nodded off after his hard day in the wood shop. "What a great day."