Workplace Pussy

‘BOSS! Will you be working here till late?’

‘I guess? This is the only time I can focus on numbers.’

‘YAY!’

The newest staff, a customer-turned waitress whose voice was one of the most energetic I’ve ever heard, joined me at the table with her pint of 1664, leaning uncomfortably close to watch my screen filled with numbers. Although I had hired her for her good impression my other staff have of her (without F&B experience), she quickly earned her place with her accelerated learning speed.

‘Oh! I’ve used this software before! They taught us in school.’

‘Seriously? You only tell me now?’

‘Well, you never asked.’

She then gave me a smile that would make any man fall for her if not for our boss-staff relationship, before nudging me out of my seat with her bum. A minute or two was all she needed to make sense of the documents I was referring to, typing quickly to fill up the cells with numbers.

‘Boss.. how much would you have to pay for someone else to do this?’

‘Hmm.. good question. I think around three hundred per month? Why? You want me to review your salary ah?’

‘No lah. I was thinking of.. ‘

‘Of what?’

‘Hehe. You can.. make one of my wishes come true.’

‘Which is?’

A long silence filled with rapid, clicky keys created the unnerving ambience as I awaited her response, that I couldn’t imagine what they might be. She was that kind of independent, problem-solving type of girls that seemed totally capable of getting anything she wanted.

(In her contrasting soft tone) ‘You can make me feel good.. ‘

‘A massage?’

She gave the screen a smile as she took one hand off the keyboard, to place one of my hands on her thigh. Soft, smooth, and supple, the skirt she changed (after work) into stopped about a palm’s width before her knees. A simple motion of lifting her hems a little higher, immediately clarified the question of ‘how to make her feel good’.

(She said while typing) ‘This, will go a long way.’

‘Clara, are you for real?’

‘Try me.’

Seated at the far end of the pub’s main dining area, enough lights had been turned off for one man, supposedly me, to work alone. Both of us knew that we were as good as invisible from this location. What’s left, was simply the issue of principles.

‘C’mon.. I’m waiting.’

A part of me felt honoured to be doing ‘this’ with/ for a girl as desirable as her, but another part felt.. eighteen, that’s how old she was. My mind couldn’t stop fantasising in both directions as I slipped my hand under her skirt, to finally come in contact with the absence of any panties.

‘You’re ready aren’t you?’

‘HEY! I wore something to work k! I just took it off when I changed out of the uniform.’

My index and middle finger than separated from the rest as I seek out her clit, a task easy to fulfill once I traced upward her slit. I understood the momentary pause in her typing when I gave it a jerk, but was more impressed after when she worked so much faster.

Her legs had spread wide apart for me to really reach every corner, while we had our eyes fixated on the paperwork that was close to completion.

‘A few more.. gasp seconds.. ‘

‘You can take your.. ‘

‘NO! I want this!’

A sudden grip on my groin instinctively caused me to shove those two fingers into her pussy, before she released my cock so she could finish inserting the final figure.

‘AHH! YES! I’M DONE!’

She turned her attention to me as soon as she saved everything, pulling off her grey t-shirt without warning for me to see the black, tie-back bikini top she wore under. Padless, undersized, her nipples were poking against the small triangles really desperately.

While she undid my belt and jeans, I continued fingering her in an attempt to disrupt her progress. Nonetheless, I was down to nothing (bottom-naked) after a fierce struggle and her reciprocating ‘massage’ sparked some really lewd noises from both of us.

(In her sexual voice) ‘This is why I chose to work here.. ‘

‘Sex?’

‘Nooooo! .. YOU!’

A shove of my chest easily put me onto my back for what she had been planning for, a blowjob that instantly blew out of proportion when her lips touched my cock. Fierce, eager and crazy, the ends from her messy head of hair added to the sensation when they dangled over my thighs. Ticklish and sexed up, I was flopping in the semi-circle lounge seat like a fish on dry land.

(She asked with a cock in her mouth) ‘Ahh you kaming?’

‘Far from it!’

‘HUH!’

The moment she stopped sucking, I pulled myself up and toppled her onto her back, giving her no chance to react once I leaned over her chest. She could already imagine where my cock was waiting.

(I asked) ‘Ready?’

‘Fuck yes.. I am.. ‘

I carefully arched my back inward, just letting the tip touch her pussy for fun’s sake. As interesting as it was to see her anticipating look, I learnt my lesson (not to tease for too long) when she grabbed my dick, threw her legs around my hips, and lifted herself off the seat to ‘penetrate’ herself.

We took off like a daddy rabbit meeting a barely-legal one after ten years! That one pint I had before starting work had helped desensitised my erection, while she got unbelievably wet after she drank hers.

(She groaned agonisingly) ‘ARGHH! FUCK.. FUCKING BIG!’

At that time, it was hard to tell, if it was her who was ‘fucking’ tight, or I who was feeling a little lightheaded from the diversion of blood to my nether region.

After our core muscles were burnt out, we switched to another position that would grant her full control to literally everything.

Seated Cowgirl.

If only you could see how excited she was to plop herself on my lap, you would understand my fears of being under her control. In less than five seconds after my cock went back inside her, she was grinding in so much delight that looked sinister, rocking back and forth to simply watch me cringe.

No matter how hard I tried to overwhelm her, she had me around her fingers (or pussy in this case). All I could do, was to groan crazily to her merciless domination, and wait for it.

Five, no, ten, minutes of putting me in and out of a trance, edging me like never-before, later, she displayed a face that got me worried. I sensed something off when she stopped moving abruptly.

‘What’s happening?’

‘You’re asking me that?! I should be asking you, what’s happening?’

Dumbfounded by her response, I wasn’t feeling anything off. I was close-but-not-that-close to cumming, and it was still hard, according to my pleasure scale.

‘I don’t understand.’

She tucked her feet in and gently picked herself up from me, moaning the whole way as I popped out of her. Until she placed herself (back and away) on the round table, did I understood what was happening.

We were both staring at a dangerously swollen-looking cock.

(She asked with great concern) ‘You sure you’re feeling ok?’

‘Yeah.. I am!’

‘Okay then.’

She kept her feet by my hips as she replaced herself over my shaft, permanently keeping her eyes rolled back as she bounced atop my lap, stabbing herself over and over again into the deepest end of her sweet hole.

Unsure if she had intentionally been ‘squeezing’, the urge returned after some time and my body unconsciously began to thrust upwards. We let ourselves go at that point and embraced each other tightly as our minds went blank, for that nanosecond of void before I came.

Following the careful removal of her pussy over my pleasure-triggered cock, she slid into the narrow space between the table and myself, to gracefully hold my erection in her hopeful hand.

A kiss on the tip marked the beginning of an end, when she shook her head left and right as she forced herself to go all the way down to the base, leaving the rest of the work to her gag reflex..

..which did the job.

Ten seconds of that teary, painful sounding (and looking) deep throat was all I could take, before blasting the first load straight down her gullet. Subsequent squirts coated her throat, uvula and tongue in creamy goodness, to lips which held me from coming ‘loose’.

‘Haaa.. haaa.. Urhmm.. ‘

The gasp of air she took finally allowed us to take a break, after engaging in some unneeded workplace activities. It was probably an understatement if I said we spent fifteen minutes to catch our breathes, because she had easily caught my growing erection when we got dressed.

Well, who could I blame for the way she puts her clothes back on? I think ‘getting shit-faced drunk’ would be a good excuse for us to spend the night here, though we would really have to drink more to make it convincing for the staff who would ‘find us’.

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