Putting in the Overtime - Part One - Sex Stories

Sex Stories, Erotic Stories, Porn Stories, XNXX Stories, Adult Stories, XXX Stories

Sex Stories Categories: Fiction, Blowjob, Anal, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Cum Swallowing, Fantasy, Incest, Hardcore, First Time, Dark Fantasy, Young, Group Sex, True Story, Romance, Masturbation, Domination/submission, Male/Female, Teen Male/Teen Female, Written by women, Teen, Erotica, Lesbian, Mature, Bi-sexual, BDSM, Exhibitionism, Virginity, Taboo, Humiliation, Female/Female, Cheating, Reluctance, Male/Teen Female, Rape, Threesome, Bondage and restriction, Gay, School, Voyeurism, Non-consensual sex, Cruelty, Love Poems, Violence, Teen Male / Female, Ass to mouth, Coercion, Wife, Male / Females, Job/Place-of-work,
Best Porn Sites

Putting in the Overtime - Part One

Date: 8/22/2015, Categories: Group Sex, Author: henrygatewood, Rating: 8, Source: LushStories

grabbed madly at one another's clothes, buttons popping and seams tearing as with a wild hunger we each sought out the other's naked flesh. The next few moments are something of a blur. I remember my fingers and lips sliding over sweat-slick curves. I remember a nipple hardening in my mouth. I remember her sitting naked on the edge of the stupidly big desk. Legs spreading. Dark curls and inviting pink lips. Fingernails scratching down my taut chest and abdomen. A finger teasing the tip of my cock. I remember my body pressing down on hers as she lay back on the desk, and I remember the tight, warm, velvet sensation as I slid myself into her. I pushed myself up with my arms to get a deeper angle. Her huge breasts rippled beneath me as I relentlessly slammed my cock into her. “Fuck me... Alex...” she moaned. “I love... your dick...” “Your... pussy feels... amazing...” Words became incoherent mumbles. Her body tightened and squeezed around me. I felt a tingle in my balls and an electric sensation jolted along my penis, growing hotter with each thrust. “Ahh... I'm going... to...” I whispered. The front door of the building slammed shut. We stopped dead. Footsteps started to climb the stairs. “That Bastard!” we said together. I withdrew so quickly there was an audible “pop” when I slipped out of her. I scrambled around the room, gathering the clothes we had so carelessly discarded, and heard the familiar click-click-click of someone typing in the security code to the door of our ... office suite. Vanessa switched off the room's light and closed the door quietly. We both clambered under the huge desk, pulled the chair in after us, and waited in the darkness clutching our clothes, hearts pounding. The unhurried clip-clip of footsteps crossed the stained-wood floor of the main office and paused, I guessed, roughly where we had been working. There was a sound which might have been a chair being righted. The footsteps continued. They were, I realised with a sinking feeling, headed for the door of the Waiting Room. With luck he'd head straight into his office and not even switch on the light out here. With luck I hadn't overlooked any items of clothing. The Waiting Room door opened, and the lights came on. In the gloom beneath the desk Vanessa grabbed my hand. Her eyes were closed. Clip, clip... the footsteps crossed the floor, muffled now by thin carpet. They paused. Possibly, or possibly not, someone bent down to pick something up. Clip, clip... the footsteps came nearer, very obviously headed for the desk and not the door to the inner office. I closed my eyes. We were fucked. Clip, clip... round the desk. The squeak of wheels as the chair was pulled out. I waited for the nasal bellow which TB called his “discipline voice”. There was another squeak of wheels, more laden-sounding, as the chair slid back under the desk with someone sitting in it. I opened my eyes. A pair of red stiletto heels were resting on the floor a few centimetres short of touching me. In ...