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It’s easy enough to get us undressed. I hold her up with one arm as I slip my suit jacket underneath her on the counter so her bare ass has somewhere safe to sit. Her dress pools around her waist, leaving her exposed otherwise. Her breasts are full and low, no longer encumbered by the dress. Her nipples are a dark rosy red, and there are freckles around the curve of her breasts and her collarbone.
I didn’t remember how beautiful she was, and it nearly stops me in my tracks to see her now.
Before I drop my pants, I fumble in my wallet for a condom. I’m grateful to see it’s still there—the idea of stopping right now makes me miserable.
While I tear open the package, Laura’s long fingers flick open the buttons on my shirt. She takes off my tie, then my shirt, and finally my white undershirt. She lays all three of them gently on the counter next to her. The way she did this, so careful andalmost reserved, shouldn’t be sexy. And it’s not, not really—but it still makes me want her more somehow.
“David,” Laura says. After a week ofMr. Donovanthis andMr. Donovanthat, it feels incredible to have Laura say my name. “Fuck me.”
Okay.
Thatis what sounds incredible.
“With pleasure,” I say, and then I roll the condom onto my hard cock.
Laura watches me with dark eyes. Her hands slip across my thighs and then hold tight to my waist. As I line myself up with her, her legs wrap around my body.
“Laura,” I gasp as the tip of my cock presses against her wet folds. It’s obscene, looking at her, her red flushed skin, her damp curls between her thighs, her heaving breasts. I’m so far gone for her, it feels like I could die.
“Yes, baby,” Laura murmurs, and then throws her head back. She grabs my hips and thenyanks—she slides across the counter, just a little, and impales herself on me.
I let out a loud, humiliating moan. It’s cushioned by Laura’s own deep, delicious groan, and then it’s like we’ve snapped a rope. Everything comes undone.
Fucking Laura is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
Technically, I have experienced this before—that was the night we met. But that was soaked in alcohol and the memory is hazy.
This—this I’m sharp with sobriety and firm choices. I want Laura, and she wants me. That makes this time so much better.
I might be the one hovering over Laura, but she certainly isn’t taking this lying down. Her body twists and writhes and moves, putting herself exactly where she wants to be as I fuck in and out of her. She’s hot and slippery and soft, and it feels better than anything I ever could have imagined.
Her hands fly to my shoulders, and one wraps around to intertwine her fingers in my hair. Her tits bounce up and down as we fuck, and she makes soft, high-pitched little sounds each time I slide back inside.
Embarrassingly, it doesn’t take long.
Within just a few minutes, Laura’s heat and her noises and her slack-jawed expression threaten to send me over. At the last minute, I reach two fingers between our bodies and carefully start to massage her clit. I kiss her, though we’re both mostly just mashing our mouths together, too far gone for anything more sophisticated than our lips pressing hard. I move gently, carefully pulling my thrusts back so that they match the rhythm I’m creating against her clit.
Laura screams against my mouth, suddenly and without warning. Her walls begin to clench and as she comes, I fuck harder once, twice, three times—I come inside of her, my vision blackening out as I swallow her screams.
It takes almost as long to come down from the high as it did to get there. When I come back, I realize our foreheads are pressed together. Mine is sweaty, and my breathing is still coming out a bit ragged.
“David—” Laura cuts herself off.
I know exactly what she means.
Carefully, I pull out of her. She makes a little sound, and it goes straight to my spent dick. I find a trashcan to deposit the condom into and quickly get dressed. When I turn back to Laura, she’s standing, her dress smoothed out and her hair a little neater than it was.
“That was…” a mistake. I should say mistake.
Laura’s eyes are wide and her lips are pressed together. There’s something vulnerable about the way she looks, even as she steals herself for whatever it is I’m about to say.
“I’ll see you in the office, David,” Laura says. She takes one step towards the door before hesitating. I still can’t bring myself to say anything.
Then she darts over to me, quickly placing a small kiss at the corner of my mouth, before she books it out of the bathroom.
I’m still standing there, staring after her with her panties in my pocket, when the next person knocks on the door of the bathroom, asking if I’m done.
I leave, but I know one thing for sure: Laura and I are far from done.
