Pursing my lips and breathing faster now, I let my hand start working on my cock at a growing rhythm, my curled fingers sliding up and down the length of my cock. I let my unconscious mind dictate the movements of my hand, my conscious one busy with imagining how it’d feel to have Daphne on her knees right now, hiding under my desk as she ran her tongue up and down my shaft. I shiver as I see it, in my mind’s eye, her luscious lips going for the tip of my cock and wrapping themselves around it. God, she does know how to use that mouth of hers…!
The first time I came with her I just wanted to do it in her mouth, to have my cock pulse against her tongue as I gushed my load into her. And that’s exactly how I did it, and she replied by taking every single drop of my seed, her hungry lips and tongue taking my cock by assault.
Just thinking of that is almost enough to make me cum. But I’m not ready for that… at least not yet. I went to the trouble of locking myself inside my office, and I’ll enjoy every single second of this. No rushing.
I slow down my stroking motion and in my mind’s eye Daphne is now standing in front of me, her smart eyes locked on mine. I smile to myself as I watch her pushing the straps of her dress down her shoulders, the fabric sliding down her body and revealing her curves to me. I feel my throat growing dry as I imagine the seductive lingerie she’d probably be wearing if all this were true, and my cock throbs against my fingers once more, threatening to explode. I slow down even more, wanting to prolong the moment, and exhale sharply as I throw my head back and sink further into the chair.
Mentally undressing Daphne, I peel her black lace lingerie off her body, every inch of her smooth skin calling to me. I imagine her pink pussy lips between her thighs, the wetness there making my whole body burn.
It’s almost funny, but I don’t even remember the last time I masturbated. It must've been more than a year ago. Seriously. It’s not like I’m bragging, but I always have an eager partner whenever I need my urges sated. But now, after what happened between Daphne and I, I don’t think that any woman in the world would be able to satisfy this hunger that has grown inside of me. Unless we’re talking about her, that is—only Daphne would be enough to satisfy me.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, gritting my teeth and picking up the pace once again. I let the rhythm grow and grow, the pressure inside of me rising to dangerous levels. My whole body tenses up as I remember how it felt to sheath my cock inside of her, her tight pussy wrapped around my shaft in the most sensual way, and my skin prickles at the thought.
With most women nowadays, I need that edge to feel that the night has been worth it. In a world of constant stimuli, I’ve stopped being able to enjoy the little things. I mean, most days I don’t even get hard when a hottie is trying to seduce me. I need the promise of something more to get excited. A threesome (or a foursome), a kink, or something outrageous like sex with the possibility of being caught. But not with Daphne; with her it's just sex... and it's better than anything else I’ve been having these past years.
If the simplicity of it left me in such a state, the memories engraved deep in my mind, I shudder to think what would happen if we went all out. I wonder how it would feel like to bend her over my desk, run my fingers over her ass cheeks and then spread them wide before I rest the tip of my cock against her asshole… She must be so tight and yet, at the same time, so eager…
God, I don’t even remember when was the last time I felt this insane over a woman. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this. The attraction I feel for Daphne is so primal and fierce that it borders the religious: I just want everything about her. I want her pussy, her ass, her mouth… I want her eyes and her voice, her touch and her moans. I want to jump into an ocean of madness and lust, and I want to drown in it.
“Daphne,” I find myself saying, her name echoing in the silent office. The room seems to become fraught with tension, my breathing grows ragged and my heart starts pumping harder, kicking and punching against my ribcage. Stroking myself faster now, I grit my teeth, as my hand becomes a blur, flying up and down the length of my shaft.
Oh, if Daphne were here right now I’d fuck her until we both collapsed from exhaustion. I’d fuck her on top of the desk, I’d fuck her against the wall, I’d fuck her on the floor. I’d slide my cock between her cherry lips, and then I’d ravage her pussy until her moans turned into screams.
My brain is boiling inside my skull right now, working at furious speed to produce a constant stream of lustful images, each one more enticing than the one before. I didn’t even know I had such a lively imagination. But when it concerns Daphne, I guess that I’m a really creative guy.
I can picture her in every imaginable position, her naked body always summoning my body. Even fantasies I didn’t know I had seem to take shape now, and I find myself growing restless for an opportunity to tie her up to a bed and tease her until she’s begging me to fuck her hard. Yeah, perhaps I should start thinking of getting a pair of handcuffs… And maybe even a blindfold, now that I’m at it.
And to think that just a few years ago Daphne was nothing more than a skinny teenager, her hair done in a ponytail. I still remember her face, innocence on her lips as she turned to leave for college, a lot of growing pains still ahead of her. Who knew that she’d turn into a woman like this? A woman capable of bringing any man down to his knees.
I don’t even know if I want to laugh or cry when I think that, for the past five years, she has been in a relationship with someone who turned out to be gay. Could there be any more irony to life? How the hell does a goddess like Daphne end up with a gay man? Well, I guess I shouldn’t complain; after all, it was that little fact that ended up bringing us together.
But screw all that; right now I’m not in the mood for deep contemplation. I can’t even think straight, to be honest with you.
My hand is going up and down so fast that I feel as if my cock is about to explode, flames of devious pleasure making the climb up my spine and exploding inside my head. I’m grinding my teeth hard, slowly breathing through my nose as beads of sweat start pooling on my forehead. My muscles are tensing up, turning from flesh into concrete, and the thoughts running through my mind are so loud that it feels like I have a jazz ensemble playing inside my skull.
Hissing loudly, my skin prickles as I feel the first spasm of my cock against my fingers. Another one follows shortly after and, before I can even prepare myself for it, a thick rope of cum jumps out from the tip of my cock and flies up into the air. It traces a high arch before finally landing on my desk, drops of semen tainting the legal briefings I was supposed to be reading.
I keep on stroking my cock, though, my mind forbidding my hand from stopping, no matter what happens. I think that I’d keep on stroking myself even if my secretary kicked the door opened and stepped inside my office with a SWAT team.
Long ropes of cum fall over the documents on my desk, cascading over the words there as if they were rain. My eyes are wide open and, although I’m watching all that, my mind is somewhere far away. I hear Daphne’s moans with every stroke of my hand, her sighs of pleasure inundating my brain and
making me almost delirious. For a split second, it’s almost as if she’s really here with me, her pussy lips wrapped tight around my cock as I gush my load into her.
I can hear her, I can see her; and I can feel her too. Riding my climax, my mind has embarked on some deep hallucination and, for just a few seconds, fantasy blends with reality.
I groan as the last drops of cum simply drip down from the tip of my cock onto my hand, slowly sliding down over the curve of my knuckles. “Fuck,” I mutter again, breathing so hard you’d believe me if I told you I just came from the gym.
Peeling my fingers off my cock, I reach for one of the briefings (one lucky enough not to fall victim to my orgasm) and crumple it into my hand. I use it to wipe the cum off my fingers and, crumpling it further, I throw it into the basket with a flick of my wrist.
Pulling my pants up, I sit straight up in my chair and look at the mess in front of me. Drops of cum glisten on the top of my desk, and more than a dozen documents are now soaking with my semen.
I should be trying to salvage whatever I can but, instead, I just throw my head back and let a deep laugh tumble out from between my lips. I feel just like a teenager, one that decided to rub one out instead of doing his homework.
And it feels great.
Reaching for the dirty documents, I crumple them all into one big ball and throw it all into the basket. I can always get a copy; and if I can’t, just screw it.
“Daphne,” I whisper to myself, smiling as I hear her name. “You’re driving me crazy…”