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Fuck that was dull. Necessary, but dreary as hell.
With my eyes closed, I can’t see Winter or her desk a few feet away. Concentrating, I realize I can’t hear her fingers typing on her laptop either. I lift my head, turning it towards her position, and crack open my eyes.
She’s not at her desk. But she is on her hands and knees, crawling in my direction.
There’s only one reason why she’s down on the carpet for me.
“Did you hear me?” she complains.
I spin my chair so that I’m directly facing her. “No. It was because I couldn’t hear you that I got suspicious.”
“Well damn,” she says smiling mischievously. The navy blue woolen dress hugs her hips and arse in plenty of suggestive ways as she slinks towards me. And I can see cleavage, the edge of a lacy pink bra that’s getting my dick seriously hard. “I’m going to have to figure out some contraption that makes a typing noise while I sneak up on you.”
Her eyes drift over my body, specifically my crotch and the welcome I’ve got for her.
“Hmm,” she hums, her eyes focused on one thing. Her hands glide along my thighs, her chest lifting as she takes in a deep breath. On her knees, she edges closer, her hands spreading my thighs wide for her. “I suddenly got a major thirst. And it’s your duty to meet the needs of your staff.”
Her hands continue to smooth over my quads as she leans in. I claim her lush mouth in a blistering kiss, my cock straining against the zip of my Armani suit trousers.
“Sold,” I say against her mouth. I reach for my mobile, toggling to my camera. While I get it set up, Winter’s hands settle on my belt.
All of her attention is on my zip, its metallic rasp loud in the otherwise quiet office. As her hand wraps around my straining cock, a breath shudders out of me.
I film her as she gets my entire length wet, sinking down on me several times before she fixates on the crown with teasing, light movements. She tongues the slit, humming, her head constantly on the move as she laves me like a lollipop.
My eyes flutter with how good it feels. She always manages to suck me so hard, like I’ve been vacuum sealed. And her tongue is hot and wet and flat, a perfect, dizzying combination.
I check the phone screen, making sure I capture every move she makes. “Watching you gets me so hot.” The fact that she lets me video it and replay it, just for us, fulfils every sordid, dirty desire I have. We’re building quite the collection.
She’s like fucking manna from Heaven.
She hums again, my balls tightening as she runs her nails lightly over my sac.
“Jesus, do that again.” She does, heat swamping my upper body.
Her hands continually stroke my thighs and abs, alternating between them. All the while she dedicates herself to her task, her long hair tangled in my palm so that I can watch every lick of her voracious tongue. Every long, slow taste she makes of me.
“Good,” I whisper, heat building like the sharp end of a knife down my spine. Close, I apply some pressure on the back of her head. “So good,” I rasp, eyeing the camera screen, and then her, as I swell in her mouth, throbbing and shivering so violently I know I’m going to come hard.
Three deep strokes later and my release shoots out of me like a fucking rocket. My groin jerks and jolts, her mouth a delicious pressure.
All the while she swallows, greedily, perfectly. “Jesus, that was phenomenal,” I praise, my dick slowly deflating. “Thank you.”
Winter pulls back, sitting on her haunches. as she eyes my phone. I’m still recording. Putting her hands on my knees, she pushes up to a stand. “Will you play for me?”
Play guitar she means.
“I can get you off,” I offer.
“I’m good. I’m in need of some emotional rather than physical attention.”
I tidy my dick away and pull her in for a kiss, one of appreciation and love and acceptance.
Then, I tug her along to my bedroom. She flops to the bed, stretching out as I gather the guitar and get comfy.
We’ve done this a few times now. Once I knew thatDirty Dancingwas one of her top five favorite films, I learned some of the music.She’s Like The Windis her personal fav, as isHungry Eyes.
I pluck at the strings for the opening chord of the first song, trying to imitate the great Patrick Swayze. Winter closes her eyes, lost to whatever these quieter moments bring her.We’ve never spoken about what she gets out of me playing. Singing. I suppose it’s the same as what I get out of it. It’s peace, pleasure, a brief reprieve to unwind, to lose yourself to your thoughts.
