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Desk Job


It seemed an unusual order. She was just to go to her desk in her office, and sit and work. And she was to wear a dress.

She figured he was planning to take her somewhere after she worked. Maybe he would show up and surprise her.

The office was dark and quiet, as it always was on weekends.

She drank some of her coffee. She plugged in her laptop. And she sat down.

There was an email message from him. “Don't move, or jump, no matter what you feel. Keep working.”

She began to suspect what was about to happen, but not before she began to feel a hand slide up the inside her thigh.

At first there was an occasional stroke on her panties, then a pause.

This went on, making her jump each time. She began to notice that the strokes became more frequent several minutes after that.

Quickly, it became a continuous rubbing. Email came. “Keep working”, it said. How was he doing that with one hand?

She could feel her panties being pulled off, and the hand playing with her clit, teasing it. She could hear him licking his fingers, and then she could feel the tongue sliding over it.

Email. “Keep working”.

There was a finger inside. Licking. Two fingers. Licking.

A vibrator buzzed. Email. “Keep working”.

She didn't even know what she was typing. The vibrator was working it's way around her pussy. 

Email. “Keep working”. She was about to explode.

Email. “Work done!”

He pushed her chair away from the desk with some force, and as he stood, with his hands he was guiding her upwards, then down. In a moment, she was on the floor of the office, and he was inside her. Fucking her hard.

He came in a huge squirt. And he lay next to her for a while.

“Good work”, he said. “Good girl.”

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Notes

When she came to his house for dinner, he had been oddly quiet. She had been dating him for a while, and found him to be fun, and pleasant, and gentlemanly. She had the most conflict with the gentlemanly part. She liked it, and she also was eager to see the ungentlemanly side of him, but it had not been forthcoming. And he wasn't talking. He took her coat to the closet, and took a box from it, as he was putting the coat in. He looked at her fixedly, as he handed her the box, and said, "You know where the bathroom is." She was puzzled for a moment, then, when it was clear he was not going to explain, walked to the bathroom, and took a look in the box. There was a black dress, a very nice string of pearls, that looked to be antiques, and a note. It said, "wear this, and only this." She thought for a second. This was quite the odd left turn from gentlemanly. She felt very funny about it. And she also began to feel wetness near her thighs. It seemed