Her Dream House

"I'm just here for the wastebasket," I said and stepped into her cubicle. At first, she was completely focused on the screen in front of her. She didn't notice me until I lifted the liner from the wastebasket and said, "You're working late."

Thunder crackled outside the building, and she jumped. The lightning must have been close. She took a second to get her composure back, and then she looked very professional. She wore a dark dress suit, and her hair curled under just at her shoulders. "Are you new here?" she asked. Her eyes settled on the badge sewn into my coverall. "Mr. Dugan."

I touched the badge, "That's the name of the service. It's my bosses name." I stepped out to drop the liner into my cart and noticed the name plate on her cubicle. "I've been here for a couple weeks, and I've never had to dump the trash from this cubicle. Are you Becky?"

That made her laugh. "I'm not her. She's on maternity leave and the techs have my computer, so I'm using hers." She turned back to her screen, so I replaced her wastebasket liner and moved on to the next cubicle.

Thunder crackled outside again. The lights flickered once before the power went out and the office went dark. I stopped where I was, leaned on my cart, and waited for my eyes to adjust. It wasn't completely dark. There were emergency lights on over the doors, and I could see the glow of the computer screen from the cubicle I just left.

The woman I'd been talking to said, "Dammit, dammit, dammit!" She wasn't going to get much work done on backup power. Her computer screen went dark.

I woke my phone, used its light to find a chair, and sat down to call Dugan. "Wait for me," he said. "I'll call the power company and see how long they expect to be out."

The woman stepped out of her cubicle and found me waiting. "Boreland needs a memo by noon. I'm going to wait here. Are you waiting?"

"At least until my boss calls back. He's calling the power company." I stood up and smoothed my coverall. "I'm going to wait in the atrium. It's outside the card reader, and the seats are more comfortable."

The emergency lights lit my way out and I dropped into a soft chair by the rail. Normally I could see down to the lobby level from there, but with the space lit just by the occasional flash of lightning and the dim glow from the exit signs, the lobby was lost in darkness below me.

My phone rang almost as soon as I settled back in the chair. It was Dugan. "The power company says an hour, maybe two. Stay there and wait, and we'll bill your time."

Like the woman in the cubicle, I had work to get in by noon, but mine was school work. I would have walked out on the job if a light from the office hadn't caught my attention. She stopped at the office door and let her phone shine out toward where I sat, and then turned it off and picked her way through the darkness.

"Do you mind if I wait with you?" she asked. She didn't wait for an answer before she set a water bottle on the table by the rail and perched on the seat across from me. "Have you heard from your boss?"

I told her what Dugan said, and she slid back into the seat. "I've been with a client for the last week. That's probably why I haven't seen you around before."

"You won't see me again, either. It's my last night. The hours are too long." My eyes had adjusted to the dark, and I watched her cross her legs. "Do you work late very often?"

"I'm an engineer. We work late when we have to, and that happens a lot."

If the light had been brighter, then she could have seen my interest jump. She probably heard it in my voice. "I'm a Senior. In another year, maybe I'll be an engineer, too." She laughed, but I didn't feel like I said anything funny.

"If you want a chance to be more than a technician, than you should probably get a Master's degree before you dive into the job market.

"I'm environmental. What are you?"

"Electrical." I leaned forward and tried harder to see the expression on her face, but I could see little more than her silhouette. "Maybe I'll do grad school. It depends on a lot of things.

"Was the job hard when you started out?"

She gave me that humorless laugh again. "It's still hard. I was never very outgoing before, now I don't spend much time at home. I feel like I'm married to the job, and my job is a terrible lover."

Lightning flashed—farther off then it was before—and without thinking about it, I counted the seconds before I heard the thunder. "It's moving away." There was hardly a sound from anything but the rain on the skylights. "What do you do when you aren't working?"

I noticed while I waited for her to answer that even the hum of the air conditioners was gone. Her voice was quiet when she finally said. "I go to my dream house. You might want to build one too."

That made me laugh. "Is that a house that cleans itself?"

Each pause before she answered seemed longer than the last. I heard her draw her breath. "It's not a house that cleans itself. It's a Gothic mansion on a hill where I go in my dreams, and sometimes even while I'm still awake. Each room in the house lets me explore a fantasy, and I wander through it until I find what I need."

She waited for my reaction, but I didn't know what to say. She shifted uncomfortably in the dark. "I probably shouldn't have told you that."

I stumbled over my own words. "It's OK. I'm OK. What kind of fantasies?"

"Sexual fantasies. Some are common, maybe some aren't. Do you want to hear more?"

I hoped the shadows kept her from reading my expression the same way it kept me from reading hers, but it probably didn't make a difference. I sat up on the edge of the seat, and that had to give me away. "Sure. I'm listening. Is that something you talk about very often?"

She tucked her hair behind her right ear. "Never before, but for some reason I want to now." She let thunder pass before she went on. "Have you ever had a girlfriend you couldn't get out of your head after you broke up?"

I suppose she could see me nod in the dark. "Her name was Michelle. I called her Mikki."

"For me, it was Gary. He was better in bed than out of it, but now he's the boyfriend I can't forget. I don't really want to forget him. That's why he has a place in my house.

"My house is crowded. There are people in the living room, people in the dining room, and people in the kitchen. It's my party, and everyone I know is invited. I don't expect Gary to be there—I haven't seen him in months—but there he is, standing inside the door like he just got there.

"Gary calls my name as soon as he sees me. He pushes through the crowd with a huge smile on his face, and he wraps me in his arms. He should smile, because he knows he's getting into my pants.

"My guests disappear, and I don't even notice. I don't really care. We're alone with each other, sitting on the sofa and touching. His breath tickles when he whispers in my ear. It makes me laugh and duck my jaw against my shoulder. His lips brush my cheek and then my lips, and I have goose bumps on my arms. I inhale his scent, and I love the way he smells.

"He cups one hand behind my neck, and I tip my mouth up for him to kiss me. His lips close over mine, and his tongue is in my mouth. First it was his scent, and now it's the way his mouth tastes. I love the way he tastes.

"Gary holds me and his hand explores my body while his tongue explores my mouth. He's gentle at first. He strokes my arm, and my shoulder, and his hand feels rough when he closes it around my tit. Gary pinches my nipple and pulls it until it's hot and hard, and I push him away with my hand on his bare chest.

"He presses me down on the cushion, and his breath and his lips are on my throat and then on my tit. He sucks first one tit and then the other. His hand caresses my belly and slides down over my hip. I feel so hot. My pussy is already warm and wet, and I don't want my legs together.

"Gary's fingers between my legs send thrills up my spine. I hold his head in my arms and I feed him my tits. His tongue is warm and wet on my nipples and his breath tickles my skin.

"It's all familiar. It's like it was before. His lips move down my belly, and I anticipate what he'll do to me next. He slips to the floor in front of me, and his lips travel over my mound.

"He teases me. He kisses the inside of my thigh then kisses inside the other, and I can't stand it anymore. I love having his face between my legs. It's intimate and exciting, and I can't help but pull his head against me. I think I might smother him.

"Gary has a magic tongue. I don't know what he does with it, but he keeps doing it. He has my clit on fire, and I rock my hips and push against his mouth. The sensations fill my center and overflow through my arms and my legs. It all explodes behind my eyes, and I close my legs around Gary's head while I come.

"I try to catch my breath, and I'm in la-la land when I finally let him go. I'm warm and relaxed while he climbs up between my legs and over me. I reach down between us to find his cock. It's thick and hard, and I stroke it in my hands. I want to feel him inside me like I remember, so I pull him to my pussy and work his cock into me.

"Gary fills me. He's inside me and all around me, and I can't think. Gary watches me and whispers in my ear to tell me I'm so beautiful. He knows how that makes me feel. He holds me tight, and we writhe together. I taste the sweat on his shoulders and feel his skin slip under my hands.

"He's so excited. He is so exciting. My mouth falls open and all I can see are the fireworks that go off in my head. My whole body tightens around him, and I arch my back and clutch at has arms. He groans in my ear, and he bellows into the cushions while he empties into me. It's good when we come together."

She sat upright on the seat in front of me with her legs tightly crossed, and she rocked her hips. "Tell me about Mikki. Is she like that for you?"

I wasn't real comfortable, but I watched her in the dark and realized that I could tell her anything and it really wouldn't matter. I decided to tell her the truth.

"She was like Gary, I guess—better in bed than out of bed. When I dream about her, it usually starts with her sucking my cock. She was good at, so it usually ends with her sucking my cock.

"They're short little fantasies."

She laughed, and now there seemed to be some humor in her voice. "Sometimes those are the best." She stopped rocking and set both feet on the floor, and then found something in her jacket pocket and used it to tie her hair back. "I don't suppose you have a thing for Dugan, do you?"

The way I recoiled made her laugh again. "I'd have bet you didn't, but my boss has a room in my house. I'd never really want to have sex with him, but he still has a place there."

"Darrell—one of our junior partners—hired me. He's my supervisor and my mentor. He rests his hands on my hips, and talks with his lips by my ear. 'Be in my office at three o'clock for your semi-annual performance review.' That alone makes me shiver.

"In my dream house, our semi-annual performance review comes whenever I want it. I have a little time to get ready, so when I wait for my evaluation, my makeup is fresh and my bra is gone—just the way Darrell likes it—and I have something special for him.

"He leans back in his chair and studies me across his desk while I sit with my back straight, my legs together, and my hands in my lap. 'We're delighted with your performance,' he says, and his eyes trace around my tits.

"That's what I always want to hear. 'Is there more I can do for you?' I ask, because I always want to make Darrell happy. He gets out of his chair and walks around his desk. He stops in front of me, but then his telephone rings. Darrell leans back against the desk while he talks.

"I already know what will make him happy, so I don't wait. I slip off the chair and kneel in front of him while he tells someone on the phone, 'I can't come now. I'm in a performance review.'

"Darrell's package gets almost all my attention. I reserve a little so I can listen to him talk. 'Maybe an hour,' he says. 'Yes, she's one of our best.' I know he's talking about me.

"I open his belt, slide his zipper down, and reach into his boxers. His cock is still mostly soft, but it's already a mouthful. He laughs into the phone, 'You know me, I hire smart girls. They give better head.'

"My hair is tied back with a snap-on cock strap. I take it off and shake my hair out. It's leather with a row of metal snaps all around it. I tuck it under his balls, snap it over the top of his cock, and he's suddenly done with his phone call. I can always get his attention when I really want it.

"I kiss Darrell's cock, and slip my tongue around it. His taste and his scent are familiar, and he gets hard in my cock strap. I close my lips around his shaft with its head on my tongue, and I touch his balls with my fingertips. The cock strap strains to hold him. I like that. it's what he's trained for.

"There isn't much more I need to do. Darrell puts his hands on my head and holds me while he fucks my mouth. He's slow and gentle, and his cock slides over my tongue to the back of my throat. I gag a little, and he knows where to stop—but it's not like he remembers where to stop.

"Darrell gets excited, and I brace my arms against he hips. He stops again the second time he gags me. He's still in my mouth. I can hear his breath and feel the tension in his body. I think he's about to unload down my throat, but instead, he knots his fingers in my hair and pulls my head back.

"He lifts me onto his desk before I know what's happening. Things go scattering: his nameplate, his 'Engineer of the Year' plaque, pens and papers. He shoves his hands up under my sweater and wraps them around my tits.

"His jaw is rough with stubble when he pushes his tongue between my lips. He kisses my mouth and my throat, and he stops only to pull my sweater over my head. I wrap my legs around his hips, and he lays me down to suck me. His cock stands up between us; his evaluation of my tits is highly favorable.

"My nipples are hard when we untangle again, and they gleam under a coat of Darrell's spit. He tugs at my slacks, then pulls my pants and my panties off. His fingers trace along the inside of my thigh and find my pussy. I'm already wet, but I'm never quite ready for him.

"Darrell pushes his arms under my legs, pulls me to the edge of the desk, and rubs the head of his cock against my pussy. He feels so big when he pushes into me that I catch my breath, but I don't know if it's from pain or pleasure. I just know that I want him in me, and then I'm filled with him.

"He kisses my ears and my throat, and he fucks me. His muscles are tense, and he gasps and grunts in my ear. I lift my feet over his back, and his big body undulates between my thighs. All that powerful man is inside me and all around me.

"The sensations rush through my body and a curl my toes. I can't catch my breath. Maybe my pain is as exciting as my pleasure. I clench my teeth and arch my back. My pussy tightens around his big cock, and for that moment my orgasm washes every thought from my head.

"Darrell slams into me when he can't hold back, and then he stops. He slams in again, and again. He growls at the ceiling, and his cream gushes into me. It can feel it, wet and warm, seep around his cock and coat my pussy.

"I'm dazed after he's done with me, but he's where I want him. He's spent when he stands back to let me sit up, and I unsnap the strap from around his cock and balls. It's wet with his cum and my juice, but I gather my hair and use the strap to tie it back.

"I stroke his softening cock and tell him, 'You know, that memo you want tomorrow might be a little late.' That's OK though. It's always OK."

"But that's all just my fantasy. Darrell is really Mr. Boreland to me. He barely knows my name, but I still have a room for him in my dream house. I go there when I'm frustrated, and I want control."

She cocked her head to look at me. "You must have liked my story." Without even thinking about it, I was rubbing my hard-on through my coverall. I could see her smile even in the dark. She slipped off her seat and knelt in front of me. "Let me see it."

That seemed like an odd thing to ask for. If the light had been better, then she could have seen how embarrassed I was, but a moment later I realized that I wanted her to see my hard-on. I unzipped my coverall and laid it open to get to the shorts and tee-shirt under it. I opened the button on the shorts and unzipped them, and it took a second for me to free my cock from my briefs. It ached when it stood up in front of her.

The atrium was too dark for her to see much detail, but she wrapped her hands around my shaft and stroked her thumb over its smooth head. "I don't need to see it to tell that you have a nice cock. Are you one of those guys that likes to send dick-pics to girls?"

I wanted to touch her hair. I wanted to inhale her scent, but her question stopped me. "That's not my style. Why'd you ask?"

"Well, you didn't need much encouragement to get it out, did you? Besides, if I were a guy with a nice dick like yours, I'd probably send pictures to all the girls I know. I like to show-off a little."

I touched her hair and inhaled her scent. "You asked to see it, so I showed it to you."

She stroked me with one hand, and reached her other hand between my legs to tickle my balls with her finger tips before she looked up at me. "I have a room in my house where I show off. It's a conference room that I built when I was rehearsing a presentation. My imagination ran away with me.

"I wear a dark blue suit and sensible shoes, and there's a computer set up at the end of the conference table. I take my place beside the screen with my laser pointer ready while the men take their seats. None of them really wants to hear my presentation on NPDES permitting requirements. Their eyes aren't on the screen, they're on my body—on my legs, on my tits, on my butt—and I want them to look.

"The laser pointer goes back in my pocket. I step onto a chair and then onto the table, and I stand with them seated all around me. All their eyes are on my legs. I turn so they can all get a good look. I have nice legs, even in sensible shoes.

"My introduction goes well. They watch me walk down one side of the table, and back on the other side, and they all look up that tight little skirt as I walk by—up my thighs to the flash of white satin between my legs. It's damp white satin; my clit tingles and my pussy's warm.

"There's a syncopated rhythm going through my head while I take my suit jacket off and drop it on the computer. The introduction is over and it's time for the body of my presentation. I walk with a sway in my hips back to the telephone in the middle of the table, and I unbutton my shirt as I go. I stand with the phone between my feet, pull my shirt open and turn around for them to all see the way my tits bulge over my lacy little bra.

"I drop my shirt on the phone, and the men are quiet except for the sound of their breath, the clink of their belt buckles, and the rustle of their pants while they pull their cocks out. They're already hard, and they stroke themselves while they watch me unhook the front of my bra and drop it with my shirt."

I stopped her hand on my cock and when she looked up I grinned in the dark. "I let you see my cock when you asked for it. I want to see your tits."

She laughed and started stroking me again, but a little slower. "Maybe I owe you that, but let's finish this first and talk about that later. They aren't big tits, but I bet you'll like them."

I nodded, and she started her story again. "I cup my tits in my hands to lift them, and I tug my nipples between my thumb and my forefinger. My nipples tingle with excitement, and they stand up to tell all those men, 'look at me!' The men lick their lips and imagine how I'd taste and feel.