Water Cooler Talk

He is just inches away but for all the good it will do us here he might as well be the voice on the telephone intercom. His arms lift towards the ceiling as he stretches in the black faux leather office chair. Our coworkers surrounding the table seem as buoyant for this meeting as bowling balls. Only the second meeting of the day and I’m already counting down the minutes till happy hour.

Upon his arms’ descent, his nearest elbow hits my shoulder hard. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” he whispers loud enough for this half of the table and more distant onlookers to turn and notice. Both of his hands cup the joint, a couple of his fingers straddle my exposed clavicle, a steel ball in my chest releases to drop heavy into my stomach. “Are you ok?” Faces return to disinterest and blasé surfaces while distant thoughts or fantasy hide underneath.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I whisper almost as loud but discernibly alarmed by the commotion. I hope he hears the unspoken intention; What the fuck are you doing?

In the elevator we are next to each other again; this time touching as more employees flood in. From our late night that ended only a couple hours before this morning’s alarm to the wave of conflicting emotions I am overwhelmed with anxious exhaustion. It would be so easy just to rest my head against his arm.

A chill runs through me as he traces the inside of my palm with his finger. I’m too petrified to move yet I’m using all my inner strength to not jump on him. My pussy tightens rapid fire several pulses while my mouth salivates. My unprovoked hand presses against the coolness of the mirrored wall for strength as much as for proof of reality outside of his touch.

Our encounter is as brief as one floor when the majority of employees exit. Socially inappropriate to be so near, we each take a step in the opposite direction in unison, faces forward, devoid of any sign other than corporate servitude. Another couple of floors of trickle ins and trickle outs and we’re finally alone.

“You didn’t even press a button.” I jokingly fume.

“My apologies, ma’am. Which floor?” His smile makes my knees weak.

I tap my heavy plastic card against the reader and hit the “P” button with the side of my fist. My lips crash into his so hard I can feel his skull reverberate against the wall. My leg instinctively wraps around his lower half, drawing his hard cock against my craving cunt, partitioned by pressed slacks and overpriced panty hose.

His hand pushes between us, landing between my thighs. He tugs at the mesh fabric until an audible rip bellows surprisingly loud. Sliding my panties to the side, his fingers rub my cunt, coating it with my pussy juice. The bells increase in tempo as the car ascends faster, locked from potential riders, and he taps my clit with each elevator chime. It’s good to be the boss.

He bites at my neck as he finger bangs in mechanical rhythm. With the final strike, the elevator doors open and he picks me up by my pussy, lifting me with one arm as two fingers wiggle within me. My hands find his shoulders for balance as my weight crushes my clit onto his thumb, sending a whirlwind of pain and pleasure coursing within me.

My ass feels the coolness of the glass tabletop, the closest furniture to the elevator, as he places me down. He drops to his knees and spreads me by my knees, exposing my labia to the closing doors. His tongue dips in and out as his fingers twist and turn. The table’s centerpiece, a stone vase presses into my back as I move in ecstasy. My hands press against the base of its weight until a massive thud shakes us.

“I want you to fuck me on this table.”

I slide back as he removes his gray jacket, black tie, unbuttons his white shirt, and drops his trousers to the floor. He crawls onto the table with me and stuffs his thick cock inside of my dripping pussy. My hands outstretch to the curved, beveled edges of the reinforced glass and my fingers wrap around as he glides in and out, kissing my breasts, and bringing me to climax.

“Is there anything us you would like me to do for you today, ma’am? Cause I’m still on company time…”

I pull his face to mine and he swallows me with a wet kiss. “How does it feel? How’s it feel to get paid to fuck your boss?”

His dick is still hard and he slides it further in. “Kind of like a hooker but with better benefits and a 401k.” I pout at him. He fucks me hard for another minute. “It feels like overtime pay for a dream job.”

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