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I need to be careful with how much I reveal here. I don’t want to push Della too fast or rush her into a situation she’ll find bizarre…maybe she’ll even agree she feels the same to keep this romance going.
She said she wanted me to kiss her in the office.
She said she was just nervous.
So, on some level, she wants me. But it doesn’t mean she’s fantasizing about the exact same scenario I am.
Elias?she sends, when I don’t answer.
It made me think of taking you, I type quickly.Claiming you. It made me think of how hot it would be, Della, being the first man to make you have an orgasm.
This is clearly over the line. If she showed these texts to Jocelyn, I’d go the same way as Paul, fired for my massively inappropriate behavior. But I also can’t repress the surging need in my cock, how solid I am, my end swelling as precome leaks hotly.
I click send, sitting back, one of my fists clenched – the one not holding the phone.
My forearms swell as the tension erupts out of me.
When she doesn’t respond, I type,But I know this has been an emotional night for you. Maybe it’s wrong of me to take the conversation here when you shared so much sensitive stuff. I shouldn’t have….
A new message appears before I send mine.
What else, Elias?
I delete my message, my heart slamming, my hand going to the ignition.
I need to get home. I had to go out for a cell phone. Don't you know why I want to be somewhere private, Della?
I think so….
I smirk, quickly texting back.Do you want me to make it clear for you?
Yes.
I’m breathing heavily, struggling to focus.
Somehow, I type.I need to be able to stroke my cock as I think about your horny virgin body taking me. I need to be able to rub myself as I imagine all the things we’re going to do together. And I need to know you’re touching yourself too.
Should I, Elias? Should I touch myself?
Yes, I type quickly.But don’t even think about letting your soaked pussy release until I’m home.
* * *
I drive as fast as I can without breaking the law, consumed in a haze of lust, thinking about Della lying in bed.
I don’t imagine her in any specific outfit. It’s not about that.
It’s justher. Whatever she’s wearing, it can’t fully conceal the curvy beauty of her body. I see her with her hands in her panties, toying with her eager virgin pussy, rubbing it as she thinks of me.
I wish I was back in the office, wish I’d known her emotions than for what they are.
But it doesn’t matter, not as I ride the elevator up, cell phone in hand.
I’m home.
I’m ready,she replies.But I’ve never tried dirty talk before.
Neither have I.
