The Roommate's Baby

"Fuck yes. I want you to put a baby inside me," she manages to gasp, as I keep thrusting my fingers in and out of her pussy, which is soaked now, wet with desire.

Just when her breath speeds up, and she starts to rock against me, thrusting against my fingers in earnest, I pull my hand out. She pouts faintly, arching toward me in response, but I don't leave her empty long. I position myself against her, poise the tip of my cock at her entrance and gaze down between us at the sight. It's been a long, long time since I fucked anybody without a condom.

There's something hot about that, too.

I press the tip of my cock against her pussy and feel how tight she is, how she strains to stretch around me as I ease into her, an inch at a time.

"Cannon," she moans, and the sound of my name on her lips, in that sexy, breathy voice of hers, drives me wild.

I expect her to tell me to slow down, to give her time to adjust to my girth, because I can feel how she stretches around me, how tight her pussy is. But she seems to love it, thrusting her hips forward to spear herself onto me, push me deeper. "You like that?" I whisper against the crook of her neck, still watching between us, loving the sight of my cock sliding into her. "You like my big cock inside your tight little pussy?"

"I fucking love it," she moans. "Give it to me. More."

I arch my hips then, and push forward in one smooth motion, until my cock sinks fully into her. I pause there a moment, let her adjust again, and I feel her walls tighten around me as she clenches her muscles on purpose.

But if I expected her to be put off by my size, or to need to adjust, I was so wrong.

She's already sliding backward across the desk, positioning herself for another thrust.

I give it to her, drawing out and then slamming back in hard. She tightens her legs around my waist, wraps her arms around my shoulders for balance.

"Yes," she gasps.

I pull back and thrust in again, moving faster now, picking up speed. The desk begins to rock beneath us as I drive into her again and again, her pussy tight and hot and wet around my slick velvet shaft. "You like big cocks, Rina?" I pull back, thrust forward, again and again.

"Fuck yes."

"You're a dirty little size queen aren't you?"

"Fuck. Yes," she repeats, louder this time.

I fuck her harder, holding her flush against me, her ass balanced on the edge of the desk. I speed up, until my balls are slapping against her pussy lips with every thrust, and her loud moans fill the office, and the pressure is building deep inside me, because fuck, I've been thinking about her all day, all night, and I've wanted this for so fucking long.

Not to mention how hot it is that she's so hungry for it, so into the sex. She's dirty as hell, and I had no fucking idea. It's fantastic.

When I can sense I'm nearing the edge, I lean back and angle my hips, fuck her harder, back arched so my cock drags along her inner wall, right in the front, along her G-spot. She thrusts with me, gasping and moaning, lost for words now that she's close to her climax. I keep fucking her, making sure my tip drags along that spot until she comes with a scream, her hips writhing against the desk, her arms and legs tightening around me, and her mouth falling open, eyes half-closed with pleasure. I keep moving through her orgasm, keep fucking her, and before long she's crying out again, this time right as I finish with a loud growl, pulling her tight and possessively against me as I explode inside her. I coat her pussy with my cum, pump it deep into her belly, and groan at the sensation of her walls convulsing around my cock, tightening and releasing with pleasure.

When we finally pull apart, a hot rush of liquid spills down both our thighs. We laugh, breathless, and lock eyes, before assessing the mess we've made.

"Oops," Rina says first, still biting that lower lip, glancing up at me with a sexy, naughty grin that makes me want to flip her over and fuck her all over again. "I think we made a mess."

"A big, sticky mess," I agree. She hops off the desk, and I pull her against me, hold her there for a moment, both of us stark naked in the middle of the empty, deafeningly quiet office.

"We should clean up," she says, then twists out of my arms without another word.

When I watch her tug her skirt back into place and duck to grab her shirt, pulling it back on, something sinks in me. She doesn't meet my eye, doesn't glance my way again, but just beelines for the kitchen pantry to look for cleaning supplies.

I want to stay where we were. Linger for a minute, savor the feeling of our bare bodies pressed together. But she clearly doesn't and, I remind myself, I should respect that. I need to respect that.

Because she's right. This is a professional agreement. Nothing more.

So what the hell is that nagging sensation at the back of my mind? Why can't I stop staring at her, watching her bend over even now, wiping up our joint mess? Why do I want to take her again already, right here?

Normally after sex, I feel invigorated. Ready to get back to work, my head cleared, ready to be alone. But with Rina...

With Rina, I want to bend her right back over that desk and go at it all over again.

I tell myself it's just the baby aspect, and the fact that it's someone I know, and the fact that I've never done it at work here, and it's never felt that hot and dirty as hell before. That's all. I'm just excited by this new agreement. This new No Strings Attached agreement, the kind I love, the kind I always embrace. I always do that. I'm the king of NSA?

So why do I get the feeling that this time, NSA is going to be suddenly impossible for me?

5

Rina

"Rina."

Cannon's voice stops me as soon as we cross the threshold into our apartment. After cleaning up at the office, we walked home together, though I made sure to stay at least five steps away from him at all times, trying to act normal, trying to remember how I normally walk. What do I do with my hands when I'm walking down the road with a friend normally?

But nothing feels normal anymore. Nothing feels normal because every time I look at Cannon's face, I see him in an entirely different light. I see the sexy as hell man who lifted me onto a table in the middle of our office, shoved my skirt up around my hips and fucked me senseless.

And I already can't wait for him to do it again.

That's a good thing, I try to reassure myself. It means that trying to get pregnant will be enjoyable for us both. I mean, he certainly seemed to enjoy fucking me. And he's still stealing glances at me every few seconds as we walk up the street, whenever he thinks I'm not looking.

But it's just lust. I have to remember that. It's NSA—we both agreed.

I'm used to this. I do this all the time. It probably just feels a little different with Cannon because we already know one another, because we're friends. It doesn't mean I'm catching feelings. I'm stronger than that. I can just enjoy this for what it is—a quick, sexy fuck that I need in order to get what I want.

We crossed through our lobby, still awkwardly a few steps apart. I felt like our doorman must have been able to tell, somehow, psychically, just by looking at us, what we'd done. When he said hello, I practically jumped a foot in the air and leapt away from Cannon.

Cannon, for his part, just laughed at me, then waved to Mike.

"Where have you two been so late?" Mike called happily.

He always asks questions, I reminded myself. He's just being friendly. Not suspicious. Nobody cares if you and Cannon hooked up.

"Stuck in the office," Cannon replied with a smirk in my direction.

My face flared red hot. It's still red hot, even after the long elevator ride to our penthouse. And now, the moment I step out of that elevator—did it feel hotter than normal in there?—Cannon's voice stops me in my tracks.

I glance over my shoulder at him. His eyes are on me, fixated, the way they've been ever since the office. "Yes?" I ask.

"Where are you going?"