Wicked Desires (Vol. 1): Three Erotic Shorts

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Wicked Desires (Vol. 1): Three Erotic Shorts Page 6

by Jennifer Simms


  Phillip shrugged, pushing his glasses up his greasy nose. “No reason, it’s just… I thought you’d be fired after the Ice Queen called you on the carpet yesterday afternoon.”

  A flash of panic coursed through his veins. “You… you heard that?”

  Phillip’s eyes widened. “Dude, the whole floor heard it.”

  Eric swallowed dryly. “All of it?”

  “Well, I mean, the part about the Coleman’s Coffee bloopers. After that, we all pretty much snuck out as fast as we could. Collateral damage and all that.”

  Eric breathed a sigh of relief and dug into his work. He was deep into the Coleman’s account fixes again, knocking off items from his to-do list when he heard Phillip creak out of his desk chair.

  “You wanna catch a beer with me and some of the guys down at Callahans?” Phil asked, backpack dangling from one shoulder.

  Eric looked up to find the sky outside the big office windows darkened by early evening. “Huzzawhatzit?” he asked, running his hand along his mostly shaved scalp.

  Phillip knocked alongside his noggin playfully. “It’s Friday, dude, quitting time. Well past, as a matter of fact. We’ll save a seat at the bar for you, just in case.”

  Eric watched him go, waving him off with a “see you there” grin even as he shifted in his seat to accommodate the semi-erection pressing against his zipper.

  One by one, he watched as the last of the employees shuffled off for the day. He waved, absently, cock already straining against his clean gray jockeys as he sat back in his chair, luxuriating in the anticipation that came from knowing he was going to fuck her; again.

  Harder this time, angrier, than he had before. That is, if she didn’t have a SWAT team on standby just on the other side of her office door. He stood, lazily ambling through the long row of cubicles that led to Amanda’s massive corner office. The door was closed, as always. She had an “open door” policy; that is, if you knocked first.

  Eric shoved the door open and found her sitting there, hair up, reading glasses slung low on her delicate nose, desk covered with the artwork for the new Simpson’s Shaving Cream account. His nostrils flared at the scent of her perfume, and there was a moment there, just before she raised her eyes and looked at him, where he just marveled in her absolute, intoxicating beauty.

  Her white collar was stiff and open at the neck against her short gray blazer that matched her long, pleated skirt. Her small breasts were tight against the stiff material of her blouse, her throat flexing as at last she found the voice to speak. “What took you so long?”

  Her voice was coarse, demanding, but soft and vulnerable as well. His balls were already sore from what he wanted to do to her. He was prepared to demand, confront, apologize, anything, but instead he sputtered. “W-w-what did you just say?”

  She stood, slipping from her jacket and walking toward him. Her voice was lower, her lips already thick and wet. “I said… What took you so long?”

  They were face to face now, thanks to her sensible gray heels. She reached down and cupped his balls with one hand, shutting and locking the door behind him with the other.

  “Are… are you sure no one else is here?”

  She leaned into his ear, breath hot and thick against his neck. “I don’t care if they watch, Eric.”

  The sound of her voice saying his name made his prick leap against his already damp drawers as she inched around and kissed him, hard, breath warm and minty as her hands reached down to unclasp his belt.

  “Hey,” he ordered, trying to find the authoritarian voice that had worked so well on her the day before.

  She just chuckled, lazily, biting his lip forcefully. “You had your fun yesterday, Eric.” She pushed him away, yanking his pants down and helping him step out of them, along with his shoes and socks. “Now it’s my turn.”

  “But… but…” he stammered as she led him to the leather sofa in the corner of the room. “You kind of liked when it was my turn.”

  She pushed him down, straddling one knee between her long, velvet legs. Her panties were drenched, her pussy hot and thick against his bare thigh as she looked down at the bulge in his shorts.

  “I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy my turn, too, Eric.”

  * * *

  Amanda looked into Eric’s eyes. They were so brown, so open, so vulnerable. She smirked; she was going to enjoy punishing him as much as he’d enjoyed punishing her. She leaned into him, yanking off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt and feasting her eyes on his bare torso as she tossed his clothes aside. She sat up from his thigh, deftly slipping off her thong panties one leg at a time.

  His eyes fluttered open and shut as she slid back down onto his firm, almost hairless leg, grinding her wet snatch against his upper thigh and gently stroking his erection through his damp gray shorts. He grew harder, thicker, longer as she teased the tip from the waistband of his underwear.

  It was purple and fat and slick with pre-cum, the skin like velvet in her hand as he gasped and moaned with pleasure. She shoved her damp thong in his mouth, watching his eyes flutter open as she wagged a “no, no” finger in front of his eyes.

  “You don’t want anyone coming in here and catching us, do you?”

  He shook his head, and she took pity on him, gently pulling the drenched cotton panties from between his lips as he gasped. “I…” he confessed, looking deeply into her eyes. “I kind of liked them.”

  She chuckled and shoved them back in, watching his eyes bulge as she returned her attention to his purple, swollen cock. Her blouse hit the floor as her bra joined it and she unbuttoned her skirt, too. The pile of clothes at her feet grew until she kicked them away roughly, sliding down his leg until the swell of his knee jutted against her bare ass.

  She ground her pussy against his leg as she bent to drown his cock, throbbing and waiting, with her kisses. It tasted as she’d imagined, soapy and salty and wet as she licked its tip dry and slid the first three inches of him into her mouth. She put her hands on either side of his belly, watching as his eyelids fluttered and his nostrils flared while she slid her lips around him, taking in as much of him as she dared before sliding back, then down again only to gobble an inch or two more.

  With her free hand, she cupped his balls, already sweaty and moist from their juices as she fondled them, first gently and then roughly. She liked to watch his face react, wincing in pain and pleasure when she was rough, eyes fluttering each time she slid his cock deeper into his mouth and then released it before swallowing him again.

  He reached for her then, to gently ease her away and she stood, abruptly, stalking away from him, not caring how her naked ass looked from behind as she opened her bottom desk drawer to take out one of the treats she’d planned for them.

  He had yanked her sodden thong from his lips by then, dropping it to the floor with the rest of her hastily piled clothes. “A jump rope?” His voice was hoarse, his prick swollen beneath his bare, white thighs.

  “I told you it was my turn.” She pulled his hands back, up over his head and gently knotted one end of the rope around his wrists. Still naked, body glistening with sweat, she walked to the desk behind him and tied the other end to the bottom leg. There was slack, but not much. While at her desk, she took out two more treats out of the bottom drawer and hid them behind her back while walking across the room slowly, lazily, feasting her eyes on his defenseless body. His boyish face looked blissful between his raised arms.

  Returning to him, she sank to her knees between his legs. “Now just try to stop me,” she croaked, liking the husky, demanding tone of her voice as he watched her take his prick in both hands. It was dry, and she used the tube of warming lube she’d brought from the desk to drizzle a long string of clear liquid along the length of his glistening shaft.

  He sighed as she took one finger and spread it from the base of his prick to the tip, then around his balls and in the thick thatch of rich, dark pubic hair that rested at the base of his narrow waist.

  He sigh
ed contentedly, easing down toward her as much as his tied arms would allow him. When he had to stop, he spread his long legs gently as she increased the rhythm as she used her right hand to stroke his cock. The glistening oil grew warm as her rhythm increased, faster, tighter, rougher, his thick balls dangling as his ass crept off the leather cushion completely, slapping against one thigh as she jerked him until his tip was glistening and the shaft was throbbing, pulsing with each stroke of her hand, his white belly quivering, short of breath, ready to explode at any moment.

  Just as he was about to explode, his breath coming out in short gasps, ass bucking against the seat, balls slapping against his thigh, she stopped, completely. His dick throbbed, purple and dripping with oil, chest covered in sweat as she leaned back behind her, reaching for the small wooden paddle she’d picked up at the 24-hour adult store on the way into work that morning.

  His eyes begged her to release him, to finish what she’d started even as he begged her not to let him finish so soon. “Stay very still,” she ordered, using the paddle to gently prod his balls.

  He moaned, writhing, as she slid the paddle beneath his testicles, the surface quickly becoming slick with dripping oil as he sighed, inching down as far as his bonds would allow as she balanced his glistening balls on the paddle’s surface. She slid it out, gently, dragging the tip of the paddle against his leg before bringing it up and gently slapping it down across his bare thigh.

  He gasped, and she quickly repeated the action, twice on his right thigh, three more times on his left. Each time his cock bobbled and leaked as he moaned in ecstasy, threatening to erupt at any moment.

  She knew the feeling. Naked, kneeling, ass nearly touching the floor, breasts sore from yearning, she put the paddle down and slid atop him. His cock pressed against her swollen clit, threatening to ignite her in a spasm of climax, but she forced herself to ignore it, inching up his body like a kid on the monkey bars, until her swollen mound left a trail of hot, clear juice along his thigh and entire stomach.

  He reached up to kiss her, straining against his bonds, and she puckered her lips, teasing him, just out of reach. He chuckled and, mouth open, she leaned down to drown him in soft puckers, forcing him back into the leather couch cushion as she kissed him passionately, all the while untying the bonds that held his hands.

  When at last his hands were free, he reached around her waist, dragging her near. Her puffy nipples, harder than they’d ever been, rasped against his sweaty chest, threatening to ignite the lower half of her body. He kissed here, everywhere he could reach until she pushed him back down and, reaching for the paddle, handed it to him.

  “Now me,” she rasped, sliding off of him and bending over. She felt no shame as she leaned over the back of the couch, ass up, breasts heaving, legs spread.

  He stood, sprawling out beside her on those endless legs, grasping the paddle. “I… I’ve never done this before.”

  She chuckled, hoarsely, greedily, ass in the air and desperate for the pleasure of measured, controlled pain. “And I have?”

  He laughed, and she heard the swish of the paddle being raised. She closed her eyes in anticipation and squealed with delight as the paddle connected with her bare ass. The sensation was divine, just enough force but not too much. It was like a slight stinging, radiating through each ass cheek, followed by a heavenly tingle that spread through her entire body.

  She grunted, greedily, like an animal, eyes fluttering open and shut as he spanked her again, harder this time, forcing her face against the leather cushion, her hands playing tenderly with her fat, puffy nipples, her thighs coated once more with her desire as each spank coursed through her.

  It vibrated her whole body, like a long jolt sizzling out only to be reignited again with each “thwack” of the paddle. Again and again, each time with just the right amount of force, he slapped the paddle against her round, ripe ass and sent intoxicating shivers through every inch of her writhing, sweaty body.

  Each time she spread herself a little wider, thrilling when the paddle crashed down to cover her sphincter, shivering with delight as, with his free hand, Eric reached down to find her throbbing clit, as giant as a mushroom and begging to be plucked.

  He fingered her gently, smacking her lightly, in a slow, staccato rhythm as she ground her pussy against his finger, squealing with desire as she came forcefully, biting her lip and eyes closed, the smell of leather and her own musk filling her nose as she bucked and writhed against the leather cushion.

  She collapsed, sweaty, in a heap, trembling and feeling the sting on her ass and the air against her sensitive clit. He reached out, gently, to touch her thigh and she came once more, curling into a ball even as she reached for him, finding his shaft, still towering, still glistening, throbbing in her hand as she lay back, spreading her legs for him, greedy and desperate to be plowed.

  He yanked her onto the floor, cradling her head as she landed in the heap of their clothes. Her skin was flushed, every inch of her sensitive to the touch as he lay her down, sliding his cock inside of her, hands on either side of her, gliding in deeper, deeper, until she arched her back to take more of him, until she gasped with the girth of him, until she found herself rocking beneath him as he pounded her, feverishly, her reaching around, grabbing his hairless ass, pulling him deeper, harder, faster as she came, again and again, beyond sound, hoarse and croaking, barely able to breath, gasping as at last he grunted, spilling himself inside of her and collapsing onto her, crushing the breath out of her even as she ground her pussy against his shaft one last time to squeeze an effortless, brilliant climax before at last he rolled off of her, out of her, to lie on his back, sweaty and panting, eyes closed.

  They lay there, the night stretching out before them, growing dark outside the windows of her office, Amanda finally catching her breath and rolling over lazily on her side, propping herself up on one trembling elbow to gaze at his long, naked body.

  He turned over to greet her, eyes shining and moist in the dark. “Now that I’ve loosened you up,” he joked, one hand gently caressing her cheek, “I was hoping now would be a good time to ask to… use your executive shower?”

  They laughed together, Amanda snorting and rolling against his chest. When she came up for air she sighed. “I wish you hadn’t already worn me out or I’d join you, but… yes, timing is everything. Use my executive bath suite to your little heart’s content.”

  He rose immediately, padding into the adjoining bathroom on bare feet while she limped around the room, love sore and collecting her poor clothes and sliding them on over her slick, naked skin. While the water ran, and he hummed contentedly, she pushed the third button on her speed dial and ordered Chinese from her favorite takeout place just down the street.

  It arrived just as he was stepping from the bathroom, wearing only his baggy work pants and a single white bath towel slung around his broad shoulders. He looked like the model for one of their latest deodorant campaigns. She turned from her office door, where she’d just over tipped the nervous delivery boy generously as a silent “bribe” not to say anything about the ravaged state of her hair, lips or quickly buttoned blouse!

  He sat leisurely across from her desk as she covered it with to-go boxes in every size, shape and odor. “I didn’t know what you might like,” she began, almost shyly. “So I just ordered everything.”

  “You’re amazing,” he said, reaching for a soda from the menagerie of cans and bottles she’d ordered along with the food. He popped it loudly and slurped it quietly. “Here I thought I’d been working for the Ice Queen when, it turns out, you’re one big softie with a heart of gold.”

  She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard her unofficial nickname around the office, but she certainly hoped the last. “Don’t go spreading it around,” she said, grabbing at a coil of vegetable lo mein noodles with a fresh pair of chopsticks.

  He nodded, sipping his soda as he toyed with an egg roll. “So, what next?”

  She made big
eyes. “What, you’re already to go again?”

  He snorted. “No, I meant… what’s next for us.”

  She grew quiet, avoiding his eyes. “I know what you meant.”

  They ate for a minute or two, quietly, considering how vocal they’d been in their lovemaking only moments before. “I think…” she began, hesitantly. “I think we should take it slow for now. I don’t… I don’t want the other employees to think I’m favoring you or anything.”

  He nodded, wiping his fingers with a paper napkin.

  She cleared her throat and added, “That’s why… that’s why I’m firing you.”

  He looked up, nearly dropping the container of boneless spare ribs on his khaki slacks. “Come again?”

  She smiled, taking her time with the revelation. “Well, you can’t work two jobs at once or, can you?”

  Eric shook his head. “I… I don’t understand.”

  She nodded. “I’ve been toying the idea of going into a little side business. I’d like to build on the Invisioneering brand but take it online. Have you noticed the surge in erotica titles lately?”

 

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