The Doppleganger's Gambit

Excited? Vexed? Captivated? Hot and bothered? Fuck, I don't know how to define what I'm feeling, but okay. Yeah. She wants this mouth? She's gonna fucking get it. Let's see if she can take the tongue-fucking I'm about to deliver.

I thrust my tongue deep into her opening, vigorously working it in and out of her hole while I reach up and rub her clit with my fingers.

She bucks her hips forward pressing harder into my face. "Oh yeah, that's a good boy. Lap it up. Lap it allll up."

I begin moving my face side to side, periodically taking my tongue out of her hole to broadly sweep it up and around, collecting her juices as I go. The tip of my tongue ripples and dances across her swollen, sensitive clit, while the steady sound of her pleasure makes my balls ache with arousal.

Her sweet elixir is flowing freely, dripping down my chin and onto my coffee-stained shirt. My mind wanders...why did she make me spill coffee on my shirt? If she's the one in control of this scene, and the coffee isn't even real, why the stain? That seemed unnecessary.

"It's retribution for all the laundry you've been making for me lately."

I pause my movement for a second and look up at her.

"With the sexting?" She rolls her eyes like I'm an idiot. "God, I've been soaking through, like, four pairs of panties a day chatting with you. It's a lot of work keeping up with the extra laundry."

Whatever part of my face that is not currently housed within her cunt must still appear confused.

"What?" she asks, exasperated. "We're in a fictional scene concocted in my mind and you're surprised I can read your thoughts?" She shakes her head. "You sweet summer child," she says condescendingly, patting the top of my head. "Now. Back to work," she says, grinding down onto my face once more.

Determined to make this bitch fucking cum already, I resume tonguing her with renewed vigor. Nibbling at her clit, working her pussy up, down, sideways, licking, rolling, kissing, sucking—every trick in my playbook to bring her to the edge.

Finally, I sense the change in her—a tension that wasn't there before as her climax begins to build. She's bucking and pushing into me more forcefully, her moans increasing in tempo. She's close, I can tell. I can get her there. I start licking quick little circles and diagonals across her clit while I take two of my long, strong fingers and press them inside of her. They meet no resistance as I start working her hole with my fingers, stroking into the upper wall of her vaginal opening seeking out the spongy area of her G-spot.

"Oh, fuck yes! Harder. HARDER," she cries aggressively.

If you insist.

I thrust my fingers into her harder and faster, maintaining a vigorous pressure on her clit with my tongue. She humps my face with increased intensity as her legs start to tremble and shake. "Oh yeah. More. MORE."

She reaches an unmistakable crescendo and cries out in pleasure. "OH FUCK, I'M CUMMING. I'M CUMMING. OH FUUUUUUCK." Her delicious cunt clamps down around my two fingers and I feel her muscles repeatedly tensing on them internally. She squeezes her thighs around my head and pushes her hips forward as a deluge of fluid soaks the lower part of my face, my neck, and the rest of my shirt front.

Her moans slowly subside and she relaxes the hold she has on my head, allowing me to back up and breathe.

Panting from effort, I laugh and gesture to my soaking wet shirt. "What...was that?" I ask.

Breathlessly, she shimmies the hem of her skirt back down and eases herself off the desk. "What? This is my fantasy. I can squirt on command. In real life it has only happened once or twice, but here? I can do whatever I want."

I stand up from the floor, massaging my knees. Tennis will be a no-go tonight. I reach for her waist and lean in to kiss her.

She open-palms my face and pushes me away. "No. That's not what this is. I know what you're thinking, remember? I can read your thoughts? You're thinking that the next thing to happen with that huge fucking erection of yours is that I either get down and suck your cock, or you get to bend me over the desk and fuck me from behind."

She wags her finger in my face. "Uh-uh. No, sir. Not today. Not this story. This story is about me getting what's mine."

She bends over the computer keyboard once again and resizes the browser window with the photo of her smiling face, then tosses me a bottle of lube, seemingly fabricated out of thin air.

"That's what you've got two hands for." She reaches over and pats the side of my cheek, a little too forcefully to be considered a gesture of sweetness.

"Enjoy your weekend," she says as she turns heel and walks out the office door.