Overtime

OVERTIME

(c) WJF 2022

Six-twenty. Damn. I thought I would be out of here before 6:00pm. I have to get this project out before I leave for the week of vacation where I am planning to go for a ride. If I finish before 7:00, I think to myself, I can still get a couple of hours of sleep before I leave at midnight (I hate riding across the city during the day. Las Vegas is too hot to be out in the sun, especially in August).

Fifteen minutes later, as I am finishing up, I hear the back door of the office open. "I locked up," I grumble to myself as I get up to investigate.

I spot Colleen, weary and wilted from the heat, scurrying across the back office. Reaching her desk, she heaves her tote up into her chair. The bag, stuffed to overflowing with files, looks like it weighs more than she does. Even exhausted, she exudes an innate sensuality that leads me to believe than my boss, no, our boss hired her so he could get into her pants, or in this case, up her skirt. I can't help but stare at her lithe form, clad in a knee length black skirt, a black linen blouse with one of those with a wide neckline, drooping off one shoulder and sandals gracing her tiny feet. Sandals. That's different. She usually wears running shoes because I keep her running all day long at work.

Retrieving a bottle of water from the fridge, I walk up behind her. As I set the bottle on her desk, she jumps. "You startled me, " she pants out.

"I thought you might need than," I state. I am so close to her, I can smell the remnants of her perfume mixed with the salty tang of sweat. I can see the sheen of perspiration on her shoulder and neck, slowly drying in the cool, air-conditioned office.

She takes a long draw off the bottle and leans back into me. "I needed that," she smiles over her shoulder. "Thanks."

There has always been a good-natured teasing between us ever since she started working here, but nothing this open. It has usually been overt, hiding it when the rest of the staff is present in the office. This is the first time we have ever been alone there.

I take a chance.

I rest my hands on her shoulders. I start kneading, massaging the knots out of her muscles. She leans forward and moans softly. I can feel it more than I hear it, like a kitten purring. I work my hands down her spine, and then back up. I can feel the tension drain out of her. I work my way up her neck. Pulling the hair ties out of the twin ponytails behind her ears, I run my fingers through her hair. The volume of her moans increases as she arches her back and leans into me.

Running my hands down her arms, I nuzzle her neck and kiss the corner of her jaw. Moving slightly, I nibble on her earlobe, running my tongue around the three piercing. She cocks her head to the side, granting me better access to her sensitive flesh.

As I wrap my arms around her tiny waist, I breathe out, "You taste better than I ever imagined." I can see her smile and her eyelash flutter before she closes her eyes and lets a moan escape from between her full, bow-shaped lips.

Sliding my hands up over her flat stomach, I cup her round breasts, slightly more than a handful. I brush my thumbs across the peaks. No bra. I guess it is a concession to the heat even though she should be wearing one as dictated by workplace etiquette. But then again, etiquette dictates that I shouldn't be doing what I am. She pants out a deep groan, bring me out of my revelry. She reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her full breasts harder into my hands. I feel her nipples stiffening and burrowing into my palms.

I kiss my way along her jaw. She turns her head and I meet her mouth. My hands drop back to her waist as I run my tongue across her lips. What! A whimper. I raise my hands again. This time I let my fingers dance across the skin of her tight belly, feeling the ripples of muscle. My tongue attacks her wanton mouth fiercely as my hands work up her creamy flesh. My fingers mold to her glorious orbs, becoming one with her as I pinch and roll her hard nipples. She tries to groan in pleasure, but it dies in her throat as our tongues tease and chase each other.

I break the kiss as I pull her blouse over her head and off. Spinning her chair so she faces me, I step back and take in the view. "You are so beautiful," I whisper before stepping up and cradling her face. I kiss her passionately as she slips her hand between us. Unfastening my belt and pants, she tugs them and my underwear down. She reaches and starts stroking me as I grow even harder in her nimble fingers, if thatis even possible.

My hands crawl up her legs. Finding the tiny wisp of satin, I pull as she raises her hips to make it easier for me to remove her panties. I look at them. Red. I expected black like the rest of her clothes. With a smile, I casually toss them over my shoulder.

She spreads her legs wide as I move forward, closer and closer. Guiding me, she allows the head to slide between the hairless lips of her furrow. I pause as she pulls me up, my head bumping her engorged center before pushing me back down.

I pull her legs up around my waist as I slowly impale her. Inch by inch, I disappear, watching her face contort with the agony of too much ecstasy.

A convulsion starts deep within her as I press fully in, growing into spasms wracking through her ninety pounds, culminating with a scream of satisfaction. She breathes heavily, having held it as I entered, trying to catch what breath she can.

I start pumping, slowly at first. She lounges back against her desk; the only point of contact between us is nine inches pistoning in and out of her tight, velvety center.

I take her into my arms as her breathing becomes labored pants. I can feel her building as fast as I am. I snake my hand between us. I find her nub and start flicking my finger across it.

Biting her lower lip, she attempts to stifle a groan, but gives up as she tops out. A massive orgasm rips through her and the screams echo off the empty office walls.

She pulls me over too and I let go, flooding her, depositing my load deep inside. I wrap my arms around her as she subsides. I kiss her brow, her eyelids, cheeks and nose before I meet her mouth for a long, sensual kiss.

She rests her head on my shoulder. I stroke her hair as her heartbeat return to normal.

"I leave at midnight," I tell her as she pulls her blouse on.

"I can't. We shouldn't have," she replies. "Besides, I have to work." I can see the torment, the conflicting emotions in her eyes as she answers me.

I kiss her and hug her tightly before I walk away. I hear the clicks of her fingernails on the keyboard as she is typing when I exit the building.

Eleven fifty-six. I throw my leg over my Harley. Starting it, I roll slowly down the driveway. I feel my phone ringing. Shutting off the bike, I answer it.

"Am I too late?" the voice asks. I smile. It is going to be a good vacation.