There was a part of her that was still surprised that, even three months in, they still weren’t able to keep their hands off each other. She was sure by now his interest would have waned, but it hadn’t, and she just couldn’t enough of him. But that didn’t mean it was love. She needed to stop thinking along those lines, as it could only ruin everything, and she wasn’t ready for this to end.
Laura wasn’t sure why, at thirty minutes after five, she was still at her desk. Even though her pussy was sore from repeated fucking already, she hadn’t felt like she could just leave. Paul always fucked her before he left for the day. The meeting he had gone to still hadn’t ended, and he would need to come back to his desk. She felt like she needed to be there when he did. When she saw his eyes light up only minutes later, she knew she had done the right thing.
He held open the door for her and closed it with a soft click behind her. Before she lost her nerve, before he touched her, she knew she needed to warn him. “Paul, I’m sore—too sore, I think.”
He stopped to consider her words, and then drew her to him. “Hmm, it has been quite a few times today. How many?”
She swayed against him, and he nibbled at her neck. “Five, but I think it was this morning’s two in a row that really did it.”
He nodded, as he found his way to her ear. “Yes, I was a little rough this morning, wasn’t I? My apologies. I smell you and, knowing how much you want me, it makes me fucking needy and damned near savage at the thought of being inside you. I love it when I fill you with my cum, and how you said you loved the feel of it inside you. Knowing that you’re walking around with me inside you makes me hard at the thought of it. It pissed me off when you cleaned your pussy earlier.” His fingers brushed over and then slipped inside her pussy, finding her slick and wet. “Is this me from earlier?”
“Not all of it, no.” She breathed hard and then moaned her objection as his fingers left her.
“I love that you’re sore but you’re still wet, and you still want me?” He laughed as his mouth covered hers.
“Of course.” She groaned her agony, not finding it the least bit funny.
“Then come here.”
Paul moved to his desk and she trailed after him, not sure what he had in mind. He lifted her onto his desk as he had so many times before, and his eyes lit up as he raised her skirt and saw she was bare and dripping for him. Bringing her to almost the very edge of the desk, he parted her wide for him. Trailing first one and then another finger through the folds of her pussy, he followed to where her juices pooled at the entry to her ass. Without any warning, he parted the globes of her ass and sank a damp finger deep inside.
“Paul!” she yelped, surprised.
“Shhh, sweetheart. This will be so good for you, I promise,” he crooned as he lapped at her pussy.
“But won’t it hurt?” She had never once even considered anal.
“Don’t you want my cock inside you?” He fucked her with his finger inside her, as much her tight muscles would allow.
“I want your cock. I want you.” She was just as needy for him as he was for her. If this was the only way she could take him and satisfy him, then she would gladly accept it. Her hands were up, tearing off her blouse and bra, pulling at her hard, tight nipples, seeking relief.
“Then trust me and relax.” His smile was pure satisfaction as he felt her relax around his finger. He pulled out and thrust in again, once, twice. Feeling the desire build, he moved back to her wet pussy and, taking more juices for lubrication, he entered with two fingers. Eager for more, she relaxed to take him deeper.
“Yes, I can take more. Please give me more.”
“Can you? Let’s try.” Briefly he pushed inside her pussy, and in seconds he was out again, pushing into her ass with an inexorable push. No, she thought, it was too much, and she strained against him. Pressure and pain mingled as he pushed inside her. Laura wanted to beg him to stop, and then he was there, buried deep inside her. He was too big, too thick, her body warned her as he lay there inside her. She had no idea she had spoken aloud until he replied.
“But I’m not too big. I fit just right, don’t you think? You feel so good that I think I could come just from staring at you. Your gorgeous breasts with your pretty pink-tipped nipples hard just for me; your face red and rosy; your lips are soft and full. And your pussy—I can smell your pussy from here, soaking wet for me. It’s what helped me move inside you. How wet you get for me. Your ass is so hot, so tight. I want to move, but will you let me back inside you if I do?”
She could only nod, and then he moved. Slowly, very slowly, he moved out just a few inches, and then he was back again, and the pleasure/pain of it made her whisper his name. He moved out a few more inches then was much slower as he stroked into her. He pulled out until just the tip of his cock was inside. Then he surged inside again, and the pleasure rolled through her. Seeing her pleasure, he moved again in and out, his pace speeding up. The waves were washing over her so intensely that she felt nothing but him, saw nothing but him, her whole focus on the pleasure he was giving her. His control slipped and he was pounding; the slapping of his body into hers filled the room and mingled with her moans of pleasure. Without warning, he came inside her and buried himself deep, spurting endlessly into her. She came then with a shout of joy, of shock, it was so consuming.
***
Saturday morning shone far too brightly as far as she was concerned, and her head felt stuffy. Doing her best to shake it off, she ran a few errands, but by the afternoon she was home again and back in bed, with a fever. Sunday she was worse, and by that evening she knew she would be calling in on Monday. Deciding it would be best to give Paul a call that night—but worried, as she had never called him outside of work before—she breathed deeply and made the call.
He answered on only the second ring. “Hello?”
“Paul, I just wanted to let you know that it seems I’ve come down with something, the flu, probably, and feel awful and won’t be in tomorrow.”
“Are you sure it’s the flu? Are you going to the doctor tomorrow?” He sounded concerned.
“I’m pretty sure. It has been going through my apartment building, and it seems like it’s my turn.” She ended with a cough.
“You sound awful. You need to go to the doctor tomorrow.” He was stern.
“Paul, there’s no cure for the flu. I just have to let it run its course.” The few words started another bout of coughing. “I’ll call you later,” she said as she hung up.
***