Carly
Scott is fantastic. I am fucking my boss’s best friend, as if fucking my boss isn’t enough, but it is fantastic. I never thought I would be so into sex with a guy I barely know, and in a storage closet at a club, no less.
But I don’t care. Lust is so thick in the room, I can barely breathe, and I want to keep going. I want more. And Scott looks like he is willing to give me more. But it is my turn now.
I look around and notice A chair I hadn’t seen before.
“Sit down,” I say.
Scott looks surprised at the command, and he looks around. When he spots the chair, he backs up and sits down. The chair is hard plastic and not exactly comfortable, but that doesn’t matter. I walk toward him, hips rolling, my body on display for him. I’m not exactly elegant with my one breast hanging out and my dress riding up over my ass, but the way his hungry eyes drag over my body makes me forget about everything but the sex I want to have with him. I straddle him, standing on my toes. His jeans aren’t even down–only his zipper is undone to expose his hard cock–and the material of his pants are rough underneath my thighs.
Another thing I don’t give a shit about.
I wrap my fingers around the base of his cock and hold him up, sitting down on him.
I gasp as he slides into me. He is quite big and every angle means I have to readjust. I move around a little before I start rocking my hips back and forth. I ride Scott, going harder and faster. My hips roll over his dick, and he slides in and out of me.
My mouth is open, eyes closed, head tipped back. He reaches for my dress and pulls the material and the bra down so that both my breasts are exposed. They are squeezed together and put on perfect display for him. It’s like something out of a porno, and I love being this dirty.
“Your tits are perfect, my little whore,” he says to me. A wash of pleasure–echoes of the orgasm I just had–roll over me. His dirty words push the right buttons, even though I don’t usually like that kind of thing. Coming out of Scott’s mouth, though struck a naughty chord in me.
He massages my breasts, kneading them, tugging on the nipples. I cry out when he does. He dips his head and takes one nipple into his mouth, nibbling and licking. He continues with his hand on my other breast, massaging, kneading, while I ride him.
“God, Scott,” I breathe. He carries on sucking my nipple, and I rock my hips back and forth. My clit rubs against his pubic bone, but I am too sensitive to come again. That isn’t going to happen right away.
Scott moves away from my breast, sliding his hand around my waist. He reaches for the back of my head with the other hand, closing his fist around my hair. I cry out. It translates into pleasure, rather than pain. Scott tips my head back so that the line of my neck is exposed. He kisses me at the base of my neck, the stubble scratching at my skin. I can’t focus on riding him anymore.
Scott takes over. He is far more dominant than I am, and I’m happy to let him take control again.
With his hand in my hair and an arm wrapped around my waist, he stands up, holding me against him in the air. He bends over so that I hang in his arms, pussy right where it needs to be. He starts bucking his hips, fucking me. He slams into me, fucking me hard, and it is impossible to stay quiet. I cry out as he pounds away at my pussy, his thick cock sliding in and out. I am at his mercy completely.
“Quiet, Carly,” he says, using my name instead of a nickname. I swallow my moans and my screams and try to keep it down.
Scott pulls out of me, stands up, and sets me down. I stand on wobbly legs as he kisses me. His tongue pushes into my mouth, traces my lips, and tastes every inch of me before he moves toward my neck. Scott kisses a trail of fire down my neck. He licks my collar bone and moves to the soft skin on my chest. His hands find my breasts again and he massages them. They are still pushed up by my dress. Scott’s hands roam over my body as he kisses every inch of skin that is visible. For a moment, it is all sensual and caring, as if he is someone that could have affection for me, or me for him.
He kneels in front of me and puts his hand between my legs, suggesting I open them. I widen my stance, and he presses his face against my lips, his tongue sliding into my slit. I whimper as his warm tongue moves over my clit, licking up and down my slit in warm, slow laps. His gentle approach and the warmth of his tongue is soothing after he fucked me as hard as he did. I get lost in a wave of bliss that spreads through my body, clenching my muscles, tugging at my core in a completely different kind of orgasm.
When I finish, Scott pulls away and looks up at me. His lips glisten with my sex and his eyes are evergreen.
He stands up. His cock is hard, bobbing through his open pants.
“Suck on me, kitten,” he says.
I shiver. It does something to me when he talks like that. I don’t hesitate. I kneel before him and look at his cock that is now face height.
It is thick and hard, the skin smooth, like silk over steel. The bulbous head is almost purple, and he is slick with our sex.
Smiling, I lean forward and roll my lips down the length of his shaft.
God, I never expected that being a secretary would be this fun.