Pulling on my dress coat, I leave our bathroom and enter the spartan bedroom. Apart from the bed, the dresser, and a mirror the room is not much more than white walls and boxes. Hearing me draw close, you prop yourself up on one arm and open your eyes. Your disheveled hair hangs down behind you as you tilt your head to look at me. The strap of your black night gown is hanging down your arm, one of your breasts threatening to spill out of the top. Your face is all natural and your eyes are sleepy.

You hate how you look first thing in the morning. I think you look like perfection.

“Mmm… Do you have to work late again tonight?” you ask in a drowsy, pitiful voice.

Leaning down, I give you a tender kiss on the lips; my tie grazing across your chest.

“Yes, love, I do,” I reply softly, my face held close to yours. “New position, at a new office. Its critical I make a good impression this week.”

Grabbing my tie, you pull my face back for another quick peck. “But you’ve been working late all week since we moved here,” you retort.

“And we’ll spend the weekend together,” I reply cutting you off with another kiss.

“Unpacking,” you say with a sexy little frown.

“What would you have me do?”

“Well,” you begin slowly, giving me another quick kiss. “You could call in sick and stay in bed.” Pulling on my tie, you draw me down lower so you can whisper in my ear, “And I’ll put on that sexy nurse outfit from two Halloweens ago, and take care of you.”

I close my eyes at the image, sighing slightly. “You know I want to,” I finally manage, “but I can’t. I’m sorry baby.”

“I know,” you answer.

Our lips meet once more, this time your mouth opens and we both moan softly as our tongues touch. Straightening from the kiss, I adjust myself, my hardness pressing against my black slacks, causing you to grin.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

“Mmm-hmm,” you respond as you stretch, your pink nipples teasing me from the top of your gown.

With my cock throbbing against my boxer briefs, I leave the room before you can break my will completely. Before I even reach the car, my phone vibrates.

“Sorry. I just miss you,” the text message reads.

“I miss you, too,” I send in reply as I get into my car.

Before I get out of our new neighborhood, the phone buzzes again next to me. Picking it up off the seat, I check it quickly even though I know I can’t reply.

“My pussy really misses your cock,” it reads.

Moaning slightly, I drop my phone and turn on some music. Nearly an hour later I arrive at work, and I see another two messages sent about twenty minutes apart.

“So does my mouth,” the first one says.

“And so does my ass,” finishes the next.

Groaning to myself, I force myself out of the car, inspite of desperately wanting to touch myself. Entering the building, my face is plastered with a silly grin from my thoughts of how lucky I am to have a woman like you.

By the time I reach my desk, I’ve already been asked to attend two meetings later in the day. Both extremely important, but requiring preparation. Grateful that I did not heed your advice, I log into my computer, my mind finally focused on the work in front of me, and no longer consumed by thoughts of thrusting into your delectable pussy.

Going through my emails, I find one from you titled, “WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?” I frown slightly, knowing that you already unpacked most of them and placed them in the dresser in our room. Upon opening the mail, I find there is no text, only a picture. A picture of you naked in our bed. My immediate reaction is to laugh slightly at your playfulness, but that only lasts long enough for my lust to take over. Instead of quickly closing the image from embarrassment, I can’t help but stare at your flawless body. Your full breasts tipped with rosy nipples, crinkled and tight from either the cold or arousal, or both. Your beautiful, hairless sex between those supple thighs beneath your taut tummy. Your soft skin that I desperately need to touch. I can almost smell you as I imagine your body pressed against mine. Finally, I tear myself away from the image and try to focus back on my work ahead of me.

An hour later, my phone buzzes again. Looking away from the notes I’m preparing for the first meeting, I open the text, this time with a picture attached.

“Nevermind, I found something,” it reads. The image attached to it makes my breath catch. You’re standing in our bedroom, before the tall mirror. Boxes fill the background but I hardly notice. You stand before me, staring out of my phone at me. The frilly white teddy holds your breasts perfectly, creating a deep cleavage and ample bosom that makes my mouth water and blood boil. But the flimsy material does nothing to hide your hard nipples or the matching white thong on beneath it. I’m not sure how long I stare at you, but finally I pull myself away and make my way to my meeting before I am late.

Near the end of the first meeting, I feel my phone go off again, and I am almost scared to check it. Once the meeting ends, I file out of the conference room, and pull up my phone, backing into a corner to prevent anyone else from looking over my shoulder.

“I hope you’re having a good day, my love,” is all it says.

“Busy, but good,” I reply.

A minute later my phone buzzes again with your response.

“Me too,” your message says, attached to another picture. This time it’s a close up of a smooth glass dildo, the head and most of the shaft buried deeply inside your glistening, smooth pussy.

I nearly drop my phone as my cock comes to life in my pants. My breathing becomes shallow and I head to a bathroom stall to sit to calm down.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” I send back to you.

“Maybe you should show me,” you respond quickly.

For a moment I debate with myself, but my swollen dick is begging to be released from its confines. In short order the debate is won and my cock is free, throbbing and erect. A drop of precum sits on the tip, squeezed out by my hand as I unconsciously stroke the shaft as I aim the camera on my phone. I take a picture quickly before anyone else can come into the restroom, and send it to you before deleting it from my phone.

As I finish my lunch I get a response, “That is so unfortunate.”

“What is?” I respond, confused.

“That tasty precum, and me not there to lick it up for you.”

God, you are driving me crazy. All day long I try to focus on my work, but I can’t seem to go thirty minutes without getting a dirty message or picture from you of some kind. My mind is constantly torn between thoughts of budgets and plans and fucking you relentlessly. Its a wonder I manage to get any work done at all.

During my afternoon meeting, I have nearly completed a presentation when my phone begins vibrating incessantly. Ignoring your call, I continue with the presentation, but my phone rings again. I frown slightly, two calls back to back means an emergency.

“One moment please,” I say to the room as my phone buzzes again, the tell-tale buzz of a text message.

“Emergency, answer quick,” it says.

Rushing out to the hallway, my phone rings again and I answer it.

“Baby, what’s wrong?!” I answer in a panic.

All I can hear on the other end is a quiet moan. At first I’m worried you are sick or in pain. But the second moan is louder. I know that moan well. I know I should hang up and return to my presentation. But I can’t pull myself away. My mouth has gone dry, and I begin to walk the hall, my eyes looking at the floor, my palm sweaty as it holds the phone to my ear.

Your moans become louder and more urgent, gasps and cries punctuating the sounds. In the background I can hear the faint wet sounds of something toying with your pussy. I can’t tell if its a toy or your fingers, but it doesn’t really matter. My cock is long and hard down one thigh, and as I walk I feel a drip of precum leak onto my leg. Meanwhile, your cries become a crescendo. Finally peaking, the ecstatic cries of your orgasm nearly bring me to my knees. I can hear you gasp for breath as you come down from that blissful high; one long sigh, and then the line goes dead.

I stop in the hallway, temporarily disoriented, uncertain where in the building I am, or how I’ve gotten here. Eventually I make my way back to the conference room and apologize, I’m not entirely certain my excuse makes any sense, but I finish the presentation and no one seems to notice anything wrong.

By the time dinner time rolls around you have tormented me further. Message after message, picture after picture. My mind is nothing but a fog of lust and hormones. My colleagues talk to me and I give noncommittal responses but within moments I’ve already forgotten what was said and in most cases who was talking. The sound of your orgasm echos in my mind as I continue my day in a daze.

Just as my mind clears enough for me to consider what I should do about dinner I receive another message from you.

“Hungry?” it asks. Attached is a picture of your perfect pink pussy, held open by two slim fingers. I can see the delicate inner lips, slick with your arousal; you know they are my favorite part of you. Your swollen clit peaks out above them. I can nearly taste you just looking at it.

Overwhelmed with lust and need, I tell my colleagues that you are sick and need me to take care of you; which isn’t entirely untrue. I make my way quickly from the office to my car and speed home. The drive is a blur, all I can think of is you. My phone vibrates twice more on the drive home, but I ignore it. Whatever you have sent me couldn’t possibly make me any more aroused than I already am, and the thoughts running through my mind as I rush home ensure that my throbbing manhood is in no risk of waning.

Reaching our new home, I rush into the house and call for you, dropping my bag as I slam the door shut. Still standing in the hallway, I hear the click of heels on the hardwood floor. My breath catches as you enter the hallway. Your long hair is done up in a bun above your head, loose hairs framing your perfectly made up face. All you are wearing is a short, black, silk robe that barely reaches the middle of your thigh. Its cinch is tied loosely, so that the robe creates a long narrow neckline nearly reaching your navel. And on your feet are a pair of black heels, little more than straps across your feet and around your ankles.

“Oh,” you begin, with mock surprise, “I didn’t expect you home until nine at the earliest.” As you speak, your hands pull at the cinch around your waist. As it drops, your robe slips open and you drop your own arms so that the robe falls off you into a pile around your feet. “Was there something you needed?”

For a moment I am still as a statue. Your body is magnificent. Those perky, round breasts that fit so perfectly in my hands. The curve of them is mesmerizing; and those pink nipples sitting on them — all I want to do is take them into my mouth. Below your breasts, your flat stomach is so inviting, ready for my kisses as I make my way down your body. I can imagine the feel of my hands on your soft skin as they trace the curve of your waist and hips. Hips decorated by a thin, black lacy band holding up the sheer, black triangle of your thong that is hiding your sex from my view.

I might be held in a trance, but you are not. I watch as you walk, your hips swaying, your eyes staring at me with lust. Finally, I break from my trance and make my way to you, meeting in the middle of the hallway. Like most of the house, it is empty save for a decorative table and a few boxes of pictures waiting to be hung on the walls. Beside the table I take you into my arms, one delicate hand running over the stubble of my cheek as our lips meet. I pull you into me so that only your toes touch the ground as our tongues greet each other.

Reaching up, I rip the long hairpins from your bun and toss them down the hall, your hair falling down behind your naked back. My hand then slips into your hair, holding your face to mine as we kiss. As our lips press together, I can feel your hardening nipples scratching at my chest through my dress shirt. The tips of our tongues tease one another, and occasionally I pull your lower lip between mine, and you nibble on mine.

My other hand slides up your body until it cups one of your exquisite breasts, so soft in my hand. My thumb brushes your nipple and I feel you moan against my mouth. You break our kiss and your lips move to my ear. I cock my head to the side slightly, and you gently tug on the earlobe with your teeth before whispering, your breath warm on my skin, “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

Immediately, I begin to pull at my tie, dropping it to the floor while kicking off my shoes. As I work to pull my shirt out of my pants, your hands begin to work on my belt. Once its unclasped, you drop to your knees before me, and I let out a soft moan of approval as I see you kneeling before me. Your heels sticking out behind your ass, the tiny triangle of fabric from your thong just above your cheeks. The sight sends my fingers to work, frantically trying to undo the buttons of my shirt as your slim fingers work on the button of my pants.

Not surprisingly, you finish first. Reaching your fingers into my pants at my hips, you grasp both my pants and boxers and pull them down, quickly freeing my cock. Your lips swiftly seek it out, kissing the red head before letting the tip slip into your mouth.

“I love the taste of your precum,” you say as you look up at me with longing in your eyes. When my pants reach my feet, I go to step out of them and you impressively catch my socks in the process. With only a few buttons left on my shirt, I feel one of your hands grasp the base of my cock, your other hand gently running over my full balls. Before the next button is undone, I feel your mouth wrap around the head of my cock and a moan sending a slight vibration down the shaft. Reflexively I thrust forward, pushing more of me into your warm, wet mouth.

Your long tongue swirls around the head of my cock causing me to groan as I finally free myself from my shirt and add it to the pile on the floor. Now free from my clothes, my hand returns to your hair, gripping it more tightly as your mouth works over my dick and your fingers run over my smooth sack. I growl and my hand grips you tighter as your other hand, wrapped around my shaft, begins to tighten and release as it slowly moves up and down my shaft.

My other hand grabs your wrist tightly, tugging it gently. You look up at me, your eyes confused, your crimson lips wrapped around my manhood. Releasing my shaft, you move your hand to my hip. I begin to thrust powerfully into your mouth, fucking it. The head of my cock pressing against your throat. Clamping your lips tightly around the shaft, you begin to suck forcefully, your cheeks caving in as you gradually draw your head back until I pop free of your mouth. Strings of saliva and precum connect my cockhead to your lips obscenely as you catch your breath.

Your other hand moves from my balls to my hip; holding my hips on your hands, you open your mouth wide before drawing me back inside you. I feel the pressure from your throat for a moment, and then it eases and I feel the head of my cock slip in further as you devour me. Both of my hands grip your head as it begins to bob as you fuck my cock with your throat. The pressure in my balls begins to build and I know I won’t last much longer. But neither do I want it to stop. My breathing stops and I moan, my muscles tightening as I try to hold back the tide. At the last possible second I pull your hair back, forcing you off of my cock.

“Stand up,” I tell you, my voice breathless but commanding. As you rise to your feet, I turn you and push you back over the long decorative table. Now it is my turn to kneel, as I begin to kiss my way up your thigh. As I draw higher, you hook your other leg over my shoulder, the heel of your shoe gently pressing into my back. One of my hands slips around your leg, pulling your thong to the side, presenting me with your alluring, shaved pussy.

When my lips reach the smooth, tender flesh between your thighs, I can feel your body tense, the heel of your shoe pressing harder into my back for a moment as you gasp, pushing your breasts up. I moan at the sight and then place a tender kiss on the center of your slit. When my lips press onto yours, I can feel them spread slightly, giving my lips a tiny coating of your juices.

I moan at the wetness soaking onto my lips. Separating my lips, I allow my tongue to peek out, the tip just barely pressing in between your pussy lips. Up and down my tongue moves, gently parting your folds so that your juices flow onto my taste buds. As your flavor fills my mouth, I can’t help but push forward, pressing harder between your legs, my tongue forcing its way down to your delicate inner lips. I hear you gasp, and your hands grab my head, fingers running through my short hair.

My free hand runs over your hips, thighs and belly as my tongue continues to manipulate your sweet, wet slit. Gradually I work my tongue up to your clit, teasing and pressing against your tender nub. Your thighs tighten on my head and you struggle to breath. Your fingernails dig into my scalp, encouraging my tongue’s assault on your hidden pearl, and just as your gasps tell me that you’re reaching that glorious edge, I halt.

I draw back, and your legs and hands tighten, holding me down. The heel of your shoe pushes sharply and painfully into my back, but I ignore it. We remain locked in our silent struggle, you pulling me towards your sex, me keeping myself mere centimeters away. The scent of your arousal fills me and it is absolutely intoxicating, it takes every bit of my will to keep from finishing what I started. I am certain you can feel my breath running over your sensitive pussy, certain because my hand on your hips can feel the shivers that run through you when it happens. Gradually your panting slows, and I feel your muscles begin to relax, slowly releasing me.

At that moment, I drop my head back to you, my tongue probing into your slippery hole, tasting you once more. The sudden sensation causes you to cry out, wailing as my tongue does everything it can to bring you back to the edge, only to have me pull back once more. This time though, I push off the table with my arms, ignoring the feel of your heel marking my back as I break out of your grasp.

Drawing first my top, then bottom lip into my mouth, I taste you twice more.

“Please,” you plead, your hands reaching for your hungry sex.

I stop your hands with my own as I reply, “No. Turn over. I want you to cum on my cock.”

You move eagerly, your heels on the hardwood floor, your ass lifted and arched up for me. Your breasts pressed against the table. The fingers of my left hand slip into your thong, running up and down the tiny material, pulling it away from your pussy and ass. My knuckles run over your lips, sending a tremor through your body. You are so gorgeous like this, the black thong and heels, your ass in the air, begging for my cock. Your hair splayed across the table, your round breasts pressed out beneath you. It is almost a pity to disturb such a tantalizing sight. But my yearning for you is far too strong to go unheeded.

“Are you ready for me to fuck you?” I growl.

“I’ve been ready all day, love,” you reply softly.

My hand on your thong continues to stretch it back as my right hand connects with your ass, a loud crack filling the hallway.

“Yes,” you cry out, “yes, yes, please fuck me!”

My right hand grips your thong at the triangle on the back, and my left pulls back forcefully. The flimsy fabric rips, and I let it drop as I ram my cock into your aching cunt. You cry out again, wordlessly as you feel me fill you. My left hand pushes down just above your ass, pressing the remains of your thong into your skin while my right hand grabs your hair. Pulling it, I force my cock deeper inside you, feeling your tight, wet walls welcoming my throbbing shaft, squeezing the head as it pushes deeper and deeper inside you.

June 2018
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