Lunch Sex

You're sitting at your desk staring at your computer, totally engrossed in fulfilling the tedious responsibilities that are included in your job. Distantly you hear a familiar cadence of someone's footsteps approaching you from the side. Its pattern and rhythm strikes a cord within you, but you are too intent on finishing this particularly offensive task that you are so reluctant to do. If you do not finish it now, it may be hours or days before you feel inclined to finish it again.

As you complete the final keystrokes and are about to swivel to look and see who it is that is approaching you and wonder why anyone's stride would sound familiar to you, the footsteps stop right next to you and a deep voice slowly pronounces your name, "Marcia."

You instantly whirl about, but in that split-second you already know who it is. It is him.

Looking up in his eyes the moment freezes and a whole landscape unfurls before you. Punctuated with erotic memories and secret words of passion spoken desperately. As you gaze at him, all you can do is moan inside your head and think to yourself how you could just spread him like butter all over your body. You gasp inside your mind at the thought, feeling the warmth rushing through your brain and knowing it will soon extend to the rest of your body.

His tall, almost lanky frame leans down, as if to talk low into your ear, as if he did not wish to disturb the others around you by rudely speaking out loud. Coincidentally, you notice that he has positioned his body to block everyone's view of just exactly where his head is placed next to yours. Instead of leaning his head to the side of yours he places his face directly in front of yours and stares dominantly into your eyes. His hand quickly grasps your neck and his fingers spread to slide up under your chin, down the line of your jaw, pushing your head up and back, the tips just grazing that tender skin under your ear that excites you so much.

You feel paralyzed and a small whimper of anticipatory excitement slips from your lips before his kiss encompasses your mouth fully, confidently. Your lips part without resistance and his tongue dives inside your mouth. You can't move. You know everyone is right there but no one can actually see through his leaning back to see him kiss you so deeply and passionately. You feel overpowered, his kiss is so intense and arrogant, as if he is telling you how he will fuck you, right now. No, it's deeper than that. He is fucking you, with his mouth into yours. Its so erotic. Yes, that's how it feels. He is literally fucking you with his mouth and he is doing it brazenly in front of everybody, and the fools are too stupid to even notice.

As you struggle to breathe he breaks the kiss, you gasp quietly trying to suck every molecule of air back into your lungs and get some meager semblance of your life back, he then moves his head to the side of yours and whispers, "Let's meet at your place for lunch today. I know where the key is.''

He casually stands up and speaks just a little louder for everyone else's benefit, "Thank you Marcia, I look forward to seeing your results."

And with that he pivots and walks away to his office. No, to you he struts away as if he had elephant balls swinging mere inches from the floor between his legs.

Bastard, you whisper in your mind. God how you want to fuck him into submission, just for doing that to you. The fucking nerve he has to kiss you like that in front of everybody. Naughty damn wolf.

Doesn't he know...glancing down you focus on the area between your legs. Yup, you're wet now. Dammit. Yeah, he knows, you smile wickedly and you loved it. Cocky bastard knows that too. You readjust your clothing, glance at the clock, try to act like you are calm and composed. You're scared to death you look like you have just been fucked hard and put up wet. Because that is exactly how you feel.

You clear your throat a couple times and reshuffle some paperwork and stare blankly at your computer screen. You chew your lower lip as you think about what you want to do to him. You glance at the time again. You hear a door close and glance up to see him shutting his office door.

He glances at someone and answers their question, "Yes, I'm going to lunch now."

As soon as he is gone, your brain starts screaming and becomes frantic. How long do you have to wait so that it's not obvious you're following him like some loyal puppy? How the hell are you going to get home? What the hell are you going to say for an excuse? Bloody hell. Then, you say something inside your head in a singsong manner, He is going to fuck me. You almost giggle. Dear god.

You babble some excuse and make arrangements to go home. You don't even know what you said and the ride home passes agonizingly slow. Thankfully its filled with erotic thoughts of his body, your body, raunchy sex and taboo acts that would literally scare most people, but for you it only leaves you dripping wet. You feel it in your seat and you could give two fucks about it. You know your scent is strong and it will be obvious to anyone what that moisture is on your seat after you have left the vehicle.

Suddenly, you arrive at your house. You don't see any other vehicle, maybe he hasn't gotten there yet. You begin to feel a worry creep into your mind and a pang of frantic concern invades into your mind as you head to the door. You open the door hardly noticing it is already unlocked. You close it quickly behind you and scan the interior like a hunter-killer machine intent on finding your prey. There he is, leaning against a door frame, shirt off, pants unbuttoned but still zipped up with that insatiable cocky grin on his gorgeous face. How the hell can he be so casually relaxed you think. His whole posture reminds you of some lanky, spaghetti cowboy from one of those old american western movies.

The next thought lands in your mind like one of those superheroes landing forcefully from some insane height and you can almost see the waves of force rippling outwards like the surface of a pond, let's Fuck. You determinedly walk towards him with every step firmly striking the floor with impending power as well as shedding your clothes faster than you have ever done so in living memory. You are as intent and focused as a hunting beast who knows his prey has no escape. The prey doesn't even know its prey. The look on your face must betray your thoughts to him because as the last piece of clothing is literally ripped from your body you see a glimmer of fear and doubt pass across his face right before you attack him.

You launch your entire body into him, grab his face and kiss him so deeply and passionately that songs could be sung of its intensity alone. As you land into him you hear a satisfyingly unexpected oomph from him as he barely catches your body with his hands. He quickly catches up to return your kiss. Both of your lips slide and melt into each other. Your tongues dance erotically as you suck each other's lips. You even nibble his lower lip, how desperate you are for him you just want to bite him, or even better for him to bite you. You feel little strings of drool on your chin and his chin, you're not even sure if it's yours or his or both.

Throwing your head back you close your eyes and gulp fresh air into your lungs like a person who has just made a deep dive and frantically returned to the surface, breaching hard and high to refill their aching lungs. He immediately kisses your chin, slides his wet lips down that sultry inward curve to your neck. The skin is stretched tautly, it prickles at his warm lips and you shiver. God he wants me, you think. He slips to the side and latches on to the long muscle that connects to the base of your skull. He nibbles, sucks the skin, then grazes his teeth like a razor. Oh cut me, you whisper in your mind. Your hands encircle his big frame as your head lowers back down to rest on top of his. Your fingers explore down his long back feeling the toned muscles rippling just beneath the thin veneer of his skin.

Sliding lower your fingers become excited in anticipation of grabbing his little ass cheeks, but instead they are impeded by the waistline of his pants. He's still got his pants on? Oh, for Fuck's sake. His kisses have somehow made it down your chest and discovered one of your hard nipples. As he attacks your nipple with his mouth, you again throw your head back and moan loudly with the accompanying pleasure.

Swimming through the pleasure you lower your head down to focus on his irritating pants. Your fingers circle around quickly, fumble with the zipper and begin wrenching the damn things open and then fight to push them down over his hips. Why in the hell must he wear such tight fucking jeans? You growl out your frustration and desperately try to remedy the injustice of removing his pants. Yanking like a madwoman, he wiggles his body to assist your process and finally the pants break free and let loose over his hips. Shoving them down as low as you can reach he uses his feet to pull them the rest of the way off and step out of them to kick them aside. Running your fingers up the sides of his legs you excitedly brace yourself to finally squeeze his bare ass cheeks, but once again you are thwarted for he still has his underwear on.

Damnit. "Really?" you say exasperatedly.

His only response is to begin sucking your nipple inside his mouth where his tongue flicks it quickly sending another wave of swooning pleasure through your body. You just cannot understand how this one man can so thoroughly torment you and pleasure you all at the same time.

Your fingers grab his damn underwear and nearly rip them down his body, at the same time your nails accidentally scratch him.

He exclaims with an, "Oww."

You smile defiantly and just a bit satisfiedly. Serves him right. Now, that he is completely naked your fingers immediately clasp his buns and you squeeze for all your worth. He releases your tormented and pleasured nipple and begins working his way, wetly, back up your body to your mouth.

Then, you feel it, that ache of lust. It exists inside you, always there, pushed back into some obscure corner like some discarded and unwanted animal. But it is patient, always cognizant, growing slowly, quietly. Urging you on subtly. Poking here, prodding there. Waiting to be released. Finally, when it comes out, the weight of it overwhelms you. You cannot resist its call. You are completely weak and submit to its mad designs. There is no stopping it. It can only be subjugated by him, this naked man in front of you. How does he do it? He tames your beast like no other.

As his lips rediscover yours, once again he kisses you like he did back at your desk, telling you in the most erotic way that he is going to fuck you. Your hand leaves his ass cheek and slips around to find his swollen cock. Your fingers bump into it and it bounces like some slow lumbering beast. It hangs there heavily like some great weight is dragging it low. Your fingers encircle its girth and you feel first the warmth radiating from it, then the ridged and rippled skin that encapsulates it. Gripping just snugly enough you slowly stroke your hand up his shaft tugging the loose skin up to the head rubbing over his g-spot located just below the cleft of the head of his cock. Right underneath that small cluster of skin that bulges like some small little half-formed beard under the head of his cock.

He moans into your mouth and you know you got it exactly right. You feel elated knowing that you know exactly how to give him the precise pleasure that he wants and craves. Only you can do this you think to yourself and it arouses you even more. A few more slow strokes and you feel his cock grow fully hard in your hand, standing straight up and bulging, maybe even throbbing to the pulse of his body. This little achievement makes you so unbelievably erotic. It is possibly one of the biggest ego boosts that you can even dream of. You know it down to your soul as if it is a foundation block to your being.

Just the simple act of stroking his cock and feeling it swell in your hand, feeling it grow and stretch, feeling it pull up and stand up and even curve slightly all because of you. It is like it is somehow attached or connected to you. Only you can make it do this and it only does it for you. What an absolutely overwhelming feeling of aroused elation. That is My cock, you laugh in your head, it obeys me and no one can do what I do for it. There is a slight shift in your perspective, an alteration in your being, you relish it, you fly high on it.

You push your hips forward and place his cock to your wet entrance. You are so wet that you drench the head and your fingers. You don't care. You push it in with absolutely no resistance. It's as if it belongs there, its shape fills you completely and you gasp and sigh and moan all at the same time in some garbled exclamation. Removing your hand he shoves it in all the way and your inner muscles tighten around him intent on never letting him go. You squeeze him so tightly you imagine it feels like he is knotted like some dog and it's impossible for you to release him.

His mouth releases yours and he moans deeply, slowly and begins fucking you. His hands reach down under your ass and pull you into his cock even more. Your legs immediately wrap around his middle and your arms wrap around and over his shoulders. You rest your head on his shoulder and on impulse you bite into his shoulder. You do it both in pleasure and in some weird animal way to hold on to him as he slowly fucks you. Your body is squeezed so tightly to his you can actually feel his body pulse. The thumping of his heart in his chest, the throbbing of his cock inside your pussy, even the pulsing vein that you're biting in between his shoulder and neck.

You feel the sweat pouring out of your bodies, it's slick between you, and somehow sticky at the same time. The air is filled with the sound of yours and his moans. If you could let go of his skin you would throw back your head and cackle with glee. But you have to hold on. Everything is happening in slow motion. Its like one of those sex scenes in the movies. Slowly progressing, every second drawn out for minutes. The up and down motion creeping along like a snail, but erotically. Every muscle being stretched out to its limit, only to rebound slowly and contract into some densely packed ball of energy. Only to be released and stretched out slowly again. You have no cognizance of time, it doesn't stop, but it just doesn't exist.

The pleasure builds like some exponential wave, each unfurling cleft in the rock somehow taking you higher and higher. You feel your body literally bouncing in slow-motion on his cock. It's too much, you are losing yourself to it. The music is reaching its slow but impending crescendo. Your mouth releases him and your head cascades back, your eyes close cause you can't see anyway, all your senses have been overwhelmed and shut down. All except for the deep rooted pleasure. Your mouth opens and you pant and moan like some raunchy whore. This moment of unadulterated, absolutely carefree pleasure is what you live for, it is the meaning to life. For a brief second everything makes sense and you feel you know the secret to life and the universe.

Then you feel it, that point of no return, you are going to climax. That feeling of knowing, you wish you could just sit there on the edge of it forever and as long as you wanted. Cause you know, you know what happens next. It's like being next in line and you're next. You wait for it in that split second before it happens.

Then you cum. You howl, your fingernails dig in, your legs tighten into a vice, and you ride that cock for everything its fucking worth. You cum so unbelievably hard, that you get light-headed. You scream. People just don't get it, they have no clue. You laugh maniacally in hysteria cause you feel you are the only one who knows. You are completely free. The waves of pleasure are so excruciatingly intense. It somehow seems to last for hours and you live a lifetime in every second that passes.

Finally, reluctantly the waves abate. You come back down to your corporeal body. Panting you collapse into his body, but he holds you completely and securely. You feel absolutely safe in his grasp. You could tell him anything, everything. You have no cares.

Then you hear something that ripples through your landscape oddly. It takes you a moment to process it because it is so out of place. But when realization hits, it is like some impending, foreboding doom. The next sound affirms it. Oh no. It's your husband, he's home. Why is he home? You scream inside your head.

The next sound forces a vision in your head of the front door slowly opening. In panic you jump off his cock and his body, grab his clothes and him and start shoving him towards the bathroom. You don't know why but you push him into the bathroom and slam the door behind you. You immediately reach over and turn on the water and then quickly clamp your hand over his mouth and put a finger to your lips for silence and somehow command him to obey you. He nods in understanding and at the same time you hear your husband's voice call your name, asking if you are home.

It's like the final stone placed on the tomb. It makes it all so real and final. You are absolutely in a panic. You give your lover one more commanding look and then grab a towel and haphazardly toss it about your body and launch yourself into the door as the doorknob begins to turn on its own. You yank it open just a crack and place your entire body behind it.

"What's up?" You ask as calmly and casually as you can muster. Your tongue feels thick inside your mouth and your heart is racing and pounding so hard you're scared your husband will hear it.

He has an odd look on his face and asks, "Why are your clothes strewn on the floor throughout the house?"

That is a really good question you think, and curse yourself for a fool and for not thinking about grabbing your clothes when you grabbed his.

The running water in the shower saves you. "Because I wanted to take a shower," you say as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Are you ok?" he asks with concern.

You respond irritatedly, "I've had a shitty day because of the fuckwits and I just need some time to myself."

He nods and says, "Ok."

Then you muster up the courage to ask the question that has plagued you ever since you realized he was home, "What are you doing here?"

He responds and says, "Oh, well I thought we could have lunch together, but you weren't at work and they said you came home."

Oh, for fuck's sake. Why today of all days does he decide to be nice. Why? you scream inside your head. What are you going to do? What indeed?

Your husband has this look on his face as if he is struggling with trying to do something that makes him uncomfortable. Or maybe perhaps he is just trying to show affection. His eyes keep looking away or down and then back to you.

He then asks,"Well, would you like me to fix you something to eat?" What the hell, he never does this.

Right at that moment you feel a presence press itself behind you and then you feel fingers slip between the overlapped ends of the towel. Oh God no. He is not going to... as his fingers slip down your tummy, down below your waist and begin to rub your pussy. Every hair on your body prickles to attention. Then you feel his lips on the back of your neck. Dear God. You close your eyes and exhale slowly.

"Is that a yes?" your husband inquires.

Shit. You forgot he asked you a question. Your eyes snap open and you say excitedly, "Yes!"