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She grips my cock in her fist and lowers herself down onto it and then she starts to move, lifting herself slowly up and down, teasing me. I try to resist the urge to buck my hips and let her set the pace. The teasing is torturous but it’s delicious too and I am more than happy to lay back and enjoy it. The view is spectacular.
Summer’s lithe body sits atop me, her breasts jiggling as she moves up and down on me. I’m surprised in the best possible way when she runs her hands over her body and starts to massage a breast with each hand. She closes her eyes and smiles slightly as she moves, her massage moving with the same slow pace as her up and down movement.
When she has worked herself up into a state, she leans forward and catches herself on one hand. Her other hand goes to her clit, and she begins to rub herself as she moves on me. I swallow hard. The sight of Summer touching herself is almost enough to send me flying over the edge, but I wait. I don’t want to do anything that risks ending the show Summer is putting on.
As she plays with herself, her movements on me increase in speed as her rubbing gets faster and I know I’m not the only one who is close to losing it. Summer is rubbing herself almost angrily now and I can no longer stop myself from moving. My hips go in time with Summers and within seconds of me starting to move, I feel Summer’s already tight pussy clench around me.
I can’t do anything except explode at that point and I let myself go. Hot, urgent pleasure floods me as I empty myself into Summer’s pussy. Her hand has moved away from her clit, and she’s bent almost double, her hands clawing at the sheet on either side of me, her breasts hanging down, the nipples grazing my chest.
I call out her name as she tightens around me again and another burst of pleasure floods me. It’s like fireworks exploding through my body, thrumming in time with my pulse. I have never felt pleasure like this, so pure, so unadulterated. It takes my breath away and makes spots of color dance in front of my eyes as a final wave cascades over me.
Finally, I come back down to earth, gasping and panting. Summer seems to be in a similar state to me. She has flopped onto my chest, and I can feel her heart racing, hear her panting. It’s an effort to lift my arms up but I do it and wrap them around her.
She stays in place for a while and once we’re both getting back to ourselves, she gently disentangles herself from my arms and lays down beside me. I turn onto my side so I’m facing her. She smiles lazily at me.
“Well, that was better than doing my taxes,” she says.
“I should hope so,” I say with a laugh.
Summer laughs too, a sound I love to hear, especially when I’m the one who made her laugh.
“No really, that was my plan for after work tonight. Go home and start sorting my taxes out,” she says.
“Well, I’m definitely glad I could save you from that fate,” I say.
“Oh, me too,” she readily agrees. “Me too.”
* * *
I wakeup to sunlight streaming in through the window, the timer on the outside lights having turned them off. I yawn and stretch and sit up. I look to my right and the space beside me is empty but I’m not worried. Not this time.
I know exactly where I can find Summer today and I’m pretty sure she hasn’t sneaked away because she didn’t want to have a conversation with me today. I’m pretty sure it was more a case of her not wanting to be late for work. I’m guessing she knew if she woke me up, she would definitely have been late because I wouldn’t have let her leave without making her come. There’s nothing like a breakfast orgasm to start the day.
I pick up my cell phone from the ground where it must have fallen last night as our clothes came off. I check the time. It’s after ten. I smile and shake my head. I can’t remember the last time I slept in so late, especially not on a workday. Summer is going to be the death of me, but if that’s the case, one thing is for sure; I will die a happy man.
4
SUMMER
Iknow to anyone passing by my office and dropping in on me, I will look flustered. That’s because I am bloody flustered. I’ve just got here and it’s nine sixteen. That means I was fifteen minutes late to start work. I’ve never been late for work in my life. Ok, that’s a lie. But I have never been late for work in my life because I slept in from having hot sex half of the night before. The odd time I’ve been late in the past it’s been because I got a flat tire, or because I was a witness to a traffic accident, and I wasn’t allowed to leave the scene until after I had given a statement. This is just embarrassing. It’s such a teenage thing to do and it’s the sort of thing my parents warned me about.
I can almost hear my mother’s disapproving tone as she tells me that it’s not the nineteen fifties and being pretty isn’t a free meal ticket anymore, that I need to focus on my career and then, when I am at the top of my field, then I can think about maybe finding a partner. I always bite my tongue at that point and refrain from pointing out that her and my father were together and married by twenty-five. I know what she will say. She’ll tell me it was a different time back then and all of that stuff and ultimately, I’ll still be in the same position as I was, it just would have taken an hour for the lecture instead of ten minutes.
I shake my head. I’m letting my mother’s voice into my head far too often these days. The fact that I’m never usually late isn’t a bad thing; it means that me being late once probably isn’t that big of a deal. And it was only fifteen minutes. It’s not like I just didn’t show up. I can make the time back easily enough.
I start replying to emails, my first task of the day. Most of the new emails in my inbox are just spam and I delete those as I go, leaving me three or four emails that actually need my attention. I try to focus on reading the first one of the four, but I can’t stop thinking about Tyler. I find my mind drifting back to last night. I’ve never touched myself like that in front of anyone before. I always thought it would be cringey, but it didn’t feel that way at all. It felt empowering, like I was in charge and taking control of my own pleasure, my own desire.
Of course, that’s not to say that I didn’t like it when Tyler took control the first time we had sex. I liked that very much but it’s good to know I have it in me to take the lead sometimes. I wish now I had taken the lead again this morning and woke Tyler up before I left his place. If I had I would have been a lot more than fifteen minutes late for work. I probably still wouldn’t be here now.
I wish I wasn’t. I wish I had taken a vacation day and stayed with Tyler in his warm bed, in his warm arms. We could have spent the whole day in that bed just taking it in turns to make each other come. Why didn’t I do that?
I’m getting myself seriously turned on now thinking about Tyler’s tongue on my clit, his fingers inside of me. I imagine myself almost climaxing and Tyler taking his fingers out of my pussy and filling me with his cock instead. I know I would be climaxing right around now if this was really happening, and I don’t feel like I’m far from it now.
I try to distract myself from Tyler and the way my clit is pulsing but it’s too late. The only way I’m going to get any relief from this now is to finish what I have inadvertently started. I debate texting Tyler to come to my office, but I don’t even know if he’s gotten to work yet, and I don’t think I can wait until he gets here. Instead, I go into my bathroom alone.
It's at times like this one that I’m particularly grateful that I’ve worked here so long that I have worked my way up to one of the largest offices and most importantly, one with a private bathroom attached. There’s no way I would have even contemplated doing what I’m about to do in a public restroom.
I open my pants and pull them down followed by my panties and before I can change my mind, I slip two fingers into my slit and begin to rub my clit. I close my eyes and picture Tyler as I rub myself, imagining his hand working on me. I up the pace; now isn’t the time to draw this out. I was already so turned on when I came in here that I orgasm within minutes of starting to touch myself.
