i’m almost embarrassed to admit how very long it took me to figure out the acronym NSFW—Not Suitable For Work…a warning to those who open an email that may contain things that should not be read over the shoulder by one’s boss…that inspired this little fantasy….
He slammed her against the bathroom door, his mouth covering hers, swallowing any half-formed protest she might have given. His hand raised her skirt, pulling it with a vicious yank to her waist, then slid under the insubstantial barrier of her silky panties, finding her wet, wanting.
Protests turned to moans as his fingers danced along her slit, and she thrust her hips forward, encouraging him to explore her, deeper, take more…
She shook off her reverie, the hum of the photocopier suddenly over loud. The heat against her pussy was that of the machine working feverishly to pulse out 250 copies of the weekly report for dispersal, and not the hand of…..
She felt the heat of a blush as she looked up and caught Zach looking at her quizzically. His dorky glasses were slightly askew. She couldn’t help but look at his hands, which were large, like the rest of him. He wasn’t gorgeous, but he was tall, well-built. His eyes were dark, looking at her with puzzlement. But his hands…
She swallowed, smiled.
“Sorry,” she managed, “i guess i was wool gathering…”
“Someplace hot? Aruba?”
“Someplace hot, yes,” she nodded, the smile breaking out of its own accord. Hawt indeed, she thought. Definitely a fantasy Not Suitable For Work. She grabbed the papers from the copier and headed off.
“See you later!” and she sailed from the copy room, hoping Zach didn’t smell her leaking pussy.
Back pressed to the elevator, head pulled back by her hair, his hand fisted and tugging, baring her throat to his rapacious mouth.
She moaned as he bit her just at her jaw, then nipped his way down to that sweet spot where shoulder and neck met. He swiped the tangled curls away, tugged hard at the top of her shirt to bare the spot to his ravaging teeth.
As he bit, her mouth opened in a silent scream, her hips thrust up against his. She could feel his hard, pulsing cock in the spot where her legs joined into that throbbing valley. His hands rose to slip up and under her shirt, capturing her tits, and closing his large hands into fists, her nipples pearling into his palms…
The glugging of the water cooler broke her from yet another NSFW fantasy. Gods she was a sexual mess! She needed to get laid. She needed to be taken. Losing her Dom 5 weeks ago had brought her to this point. Needing to release her submissive side, needing to be used. Needing.
Michael looked at her over the rim of the white plastic cup.
“You’ve been to Aruba again, kid?”
She smiled. That Aruba fantasy had been a dream of hers for a very long time. And it was paying in huge dividends now, since everyone assumed her flushed face was from too many imaginary margaritas and not being fucked in a variety of NSFW work spaces.
“Yep, Aruba. You know, getting away to someplace hot sounds like a plan, now that it’s getting so chilly. So, how ’bout those Phillies?”
The conversation wound down, and she made her way back to her cubicle.
The mid-day slump caught up to her. She had a few minutes, and she sought out her boss.
“Hey, Cathy? I think i’m going to go catch some air, okay?”
Rather than heading down to street level, she decided to head to her solitary sanctuary. She wasn’t in the mood for mingling today. She slipped on her dark coat, wrapped her scarf around her neck a few times and headed up the two flights of steps to the roof. No one ever came up here, the atmosphere was not conducive to it. The A/C unit was here, quiet now in the late October chill. The pebbled surface of the roof was uneven, but not unpleasant. Rather a bit like walking on a cobbled Maine beach.
She leaned against the chimney, looking out across the sea of towers, the highway in the distance reduced from twice-a-day drama to a child’s toy in this perspective. She was feeling pensive, not exactly down. Maybe she would go to the Halloween gathering next week, even to just get a brief play time, maybe as a rope model or something. Something.
She never heard him come up behind her, until his hand covered her mouth. His large hand. She could see his watch, his shirt. Zach.
She nodded her acquiescence. It was Zack, fercrissakes.
“I’m going to fuck you up here, Ali, fuck you like the little slut you are. Understand?”
She shivered in the October air.