Floor Time

by Crowe, Liz

  Oh my God, I am dry humping this grown man in my office.

  He reached down and slowly unzipped her shorts, never removing his lips from the skin of her neck. He was muttering, something about “You smell exactly like I thought you would,” but she couldn’t be certain as her brain started fogging up like the inside of a car window, obscuring all rational thought.

  Jack reached a hand down, brushed the outside of her panties. She moaned and leaned her head back against the wall. Sweat dripped slowly between her breasts as her breath caught in her throat. She sensed him grin against her skin as he leaned down to find the moisture and lap at it, his fingers lightly teasing her clit.

  “Somebody is really happy to see me.” His voice had an edge to it she loved.

  Sara realized she was moving her hips, thrusting toward him as though drawn by a magnet. She started to reach down, needing to feel his flesh, but he grabbed her hands, lifted them up over her head, pinned her wrists against the wall.

  “No, baby, let me. Just lean back and relax. I’m in charge.”

  Everything in her struggled against him, tried to resist, but the firm grasp he kept on her wrists was one of the most erotic sensations she’d ever experienced. She bit her lip as Jack slid her shorts down. He reached inside her panties, forming two of his fingers and thumb into a delicious double stimulator. Slowly, he moved against her swollen nub and slipped into her pussy as his lips traveled from her mouth, to her neck.

  He manipulated her and maintained his control, seemingly without much effort, still holding her wrists captive over her head. She started lifting off, becoming as light as air, reaching the edge of extreme pleasure, while part of her tried to maintain her control. The man she’d been dreaming about for months was there, touching her, holding her captive against her office wall, and his lips, dear God… Eyes closed, head and arms up against the wall, she finally gave in to the pure, shuddering pleasure of it. Ignoring how much further she’d be willing to go with him; her usual reservations abandoned in his arms.

  She rolled into her orgasm, as his fingers sank deep inside her and his thumb stayed pressed against her clit. She knew he was watching her, observing her reaction but didn’t give a shit about that as she gave in to her body’s clamor for release. Until that exact moment she had no idea how much she’d missed the pure, breathtaking beauty of an earth-shattering climax. Could she hang onto it, bottle it, so she could revisit it after Jack was through with her?

  She knew he had no intentions of doing anything beyond proving something to her against the wall in her office. But as far as she was concerned, he could prove all he wanted if it meant she could feel this way — every delicious, clutching, breathless minute of it. “Oh God, Jack.” She heard her own whisper. Then he reached up and found that elusive bundle of nerves under her pubic bone and she exploded into a thousand shards of pure pleasure.

  Her body pulsed with energy; she cried out as she yanked her wrists from his grasp and clenched his arm, her lips seeking his. He accommodated her with his warm mouth, delicious tongue and the grin she felt he must wear at every moment of the day.

  “Oh yeah, you come just like I knew you would. I knew you’d grab me with that pussy and not let go,” he muttered into her hair as she tried to calm her breathing. “Amazing.” He sounded as breathless as she felt.

  She sighed, rolled her head around, tried to get some semblance of dignity back. He kept his lips on her, on her shoulders, her neck, not willing to break contact. She reached for the zipper of his suit pants, admiring the view of his rumpled shirt and his tie released and askew. He leaned closer, placed both hands on the wall on either side of her head, closed his eyes and let her unhook his belt. His cock made an impressive mound underneath the boxer-type briefs. She licked her lips.

  “Let’s move in here,” she muttered, and indicated her cubicle, reluctant to expose him in the hall. No matter that, she was standing there, her shorts flung aside and her shirt practically ripped off from behind.

  “No.” His voice was firm, used to being obeyed. She bit her lip. “Reach in there first, come on, Sara,” He leaned back to allow her a better angle.

  His animal maleness, his scent, now tinged with her own juices on his hand, the breathless way he spoke near her ear, all combined to bring out something completely new in her. Her nipples ached for his touch, her pussy clutched in post-orgasmic anticipation. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she could hear the sounds of the office at night. Sounds she was familiar with — the whirr of the fridge, the tick of the large art deco clock out front, even the traffic noises that were her usual backdrop for an evening work session. None of those things would ever sound the same to her again.

  She stroked the head of his cock as it lunged out of his briefs, already slick with clear evidence of his desire. So, he isn’t all that much in control, she thought as she reached lower to rub the length of him. She ran her hands down his thick shaft, which seemed to swell even more, filling her grip in a way that promised serious action.

  “Mmm hmm. Very nice.” He kept his eyes closed, his hands still planted on the wall. She reached down and cupped his balls, smiling as they drew up and contracted.

  She brought her lips to his, their breathing combined as his increased. She shoved her tongue into his mouth. He closed his eyes and plunged his hands into her hair, moved his hips ever so slightly, and moaned deep in his throat, which sparked her own need to have him right then, inside her, before she exploded.

  How crazy is this? He’s a colleague, nearly forty years old, a guy you’ve been warned about by people who love you — and you’re ready to let him fuck you like an animal standing up in the hallway?

  Yes.

  Some inner “New Sara” convinced her as she bent her knees and leaned over, taking in the scent of his most intimate and sensitive part, the raw, salty, musky man-smell. She flicked her tongue around the head, tasted him, allowed a little suction then withdrew to admire what she was sure would provide her a serious ride.

  As she was about to suck the thick head back into her mouth, he grabbed her arms, tugged her straight up again, nearly growling with desire.

  “No. I’ve been waiting since I first heard your voice on the phone. Tell me you want my cock; tell me what you want,” he demanded in a rough whisper.

  Sara heard her voice as if listening in, unable to stop herself. “Please. Jack, fuck me. Now.”

  He pushed her firmly back against the wall, grabbing her leg to hike it up again and forced her lips open with his insistent tongue as he propped himself against the wall with one hand. He leaned into her, as the head of his cock reached towards her waiting and eager body.

  A flick of his wrist, the sound of a condom being opened, and his hand on his cock indicated his readiness. She tried not to think about the fact that he had protection at his fingertips, as if he knew he would be getting some tonight. Those thoughts remained purely secondary to her urgent need for him inside of her.

  “Now, give it to me right now,” she hissed her demand as she wrapped her arms around his neck and plunged her hands into his thick hair.

  “I will baby. Gotta go slow. Trust me.” His breath tickled her ear. He reached down slid some combination of fingers into her aching body. She jerked and moaned as he used them to stretch her. She thrust against him, wanting more.

  He reached around and grabbed her ass, pulled her closer and slowly eased into her, one delicious inch at a time. She stretched, accommodating his girth, her body spreading and accepting him. She gasped, her eyes widening as his thickness filled her. Up on her tiptoes, one leg wrapped firmly around his waist providing an amazing angle, she sighed with satisfaction. He finally pressed his full length inside her pulsing walls, his pubic bone jammed hard against the aching nub of her clit.

  She moaned as he withdrew, eased himself away, the extreme emptiness he left behind making her gasp. He looked into her eyes and reached down to cup her breast in the hand that wasn’t propped against the wall for su
pport. Keeping the head of his lovely thick shaft inside, he caressed her nipple, tweaking it, murmuring something she couldn’t hear. Sweat trickled down her back.

  “Jack, please…”

  “What, Sara.”

  “I need you back inside me.” she paused. “I need your cock again.” Every nerve ending in her body tingled with anticipation of his lips covering hers, of his cock spreading her, filling her completely.

  He obliged, firmly, faster this time. She lifted her leg up higher around his waist to allow for more contact, and groaned at the extreme sensation of his body inside hers. He began to move against her, in and out, deliciously slow. His breath picked up and he grabbed her ass again, pulling her tighter to his body. He made a low sound deep in his throat.

  She turned her head to the right, caught their reflection in the glass door of the kitchen. His tall body, still mostly dressed attached to hers, one hand on the wall, her leg wrapped around his waist as her body matched him thrust for thrust. She closed her eyes, but the image burned there like a brand.

  “Shit woman, you are gonna make me come like a teenager,” he muttered above her head, his neck pressed into her face. She tried to get the picture of him on his bus ads out of her head — tan, handsome, grinning at the world — holy shit but he could make her feel like this?

  “Fuck me harder — oh my God, Jack!” she reached around to grasp his ass and shove him back inside. Her standing leg spasmed, as her pussy clutched at him, in a seemingly continuous wave of pleasure. The pressure his pubic bone put on her clit as he moved his amazing thickness in and out, making that deep sound in his throat, the feel of her ass against the wall, the sheer thrill of doing it right there in the pitch black hallway of her office, raced through her. She let it take her, realizing her mistake too late — the mistake of letting Jack into her body and into her life.

  Sweat beaded up on his face. It was slick under her fingers as she reached up to pull his mouth to hers. She wanted to smell him, taste him while she came — needed to feel him closer, wanted him to see what he did to her. She grabbed his hair in her attempt to get him ever closer as her entire body flushed with blood with the onrush of serious orgasmic bliss. She had a sudden need to make him lose control — needed to wipe that fucking grin off his face once as he gave a final thrust and groaned. Thrilled when that cocky grin was replaced with a look she recognized as one she’d been wearing earlier. His lips covered hers at the last moment, blinding her with the full sensation of his whole self, inside, covering her, marking her as his.

  He shuddered as he thrust deep and released. Her body pulsed, grabbed and held him deeper. He continued to move against her as her clit stayed swollen and sensitized. She put her hands on his shoulders, still encased in that dress shirt, observed that his tie was still on, and sighed.

  “OK, wow, um, I don’t usually act like this,” she said quietly as she admired the hardness of his shoulders under her hands.

  “Yeah, well, you just needed somebody to show you how fun this can be.” His voice stayed low as he withdrew and leaned down to kiss her neck, near her ear.

  “So now is the embarrassing part, right?” Sara had no confidence in her knees whatsoever as she gripped the wall and willed her body calm.

  “What? Hell, no, I’m not embarrassed. I feel great.” He pulled off the condom, tucked himself back inside his pants, zipped them up then ducked into the kitchenette. He came back carrying some paper towels.

  She took the stack from him and turned away. She was used to handling the clean-up part post-sex in private, but what the hell, the New Sara could wipe up in front of the guy who made her wet. Jack smoothed his shirt and rolled down his sleeves. He glanced around and grabbed her shorts from where she had flung them about two feet down the hall and handed them to her.

  “Let’s go get something to eat — I’m starved.” He grinned as she shook her head, clearing the cobwebs placed there by the very fact of what she had done, in that hall with the guy who never even came out of his tie or his thousand-dollar shoes. She also felt great, truthfully, but somehow that seemed wrong.

  The turn of a key startled them both.

  “Shit, shit, shit.” Sara zipped up her shorts and cast about for her sandals.

  “Um, babe, tuck in your shirt in the back,” Jack whispered. “You look like you just got fucked against the office wall.”

  He grinned at her, blue eyes snapping with something Sara could not identify. When he turned away and ran his hand through his dark hair, it stood up in way that made her want to thread her fingers through it.

  God — it could get interesting if every time he spoke, her pussy spoke back.

  Get a grip Sara. Do not let him do this to you.

  “Yeah, thanks, whatever,” she mumbled, as she made her way back to her office to flip the light on.

  Jack ambled into the kitchenette, opened the fridge and grabbed a Diet Coke

  “Who’s here?” the sing-song voice of Meg, the office sad-sack agent, traveled back to them.

  “Just me Meg,” Sara shocked herself with her voice’s steadiness.

  “Well, young lady, did you buy a new car or something?”

  Meg didn’t do much business, never had. She hung out around the office all the time, never going out to work. Most offices had them — the resident sob-story types that managers could not cut lose out of the goodness of their hearts. She was also a great listener, which endeared her to many agents and kept her from being completely annoying.

  “No lovely lady,” Jack called out striding out to the hall. “That’s my ride as you well know!”

  “Jaaack, you devil!” Meg voice scraped fingernails down Sara’s internal chalkboard.

  Sara rolled her eyes. She suddenly felt really, really cheap. Jack flirted with everybody. He hadn’t singled her out on the phone over the last few weeks. Flirting for him was like breathing; he couldn’t not do it.

  Great. And you let him fuck you, practically in public, without a second thought. What is wrong with you?

  Nothing, the New Sara caressed her ear. Nothing another session with him won’t cure. Enjoy, don’t think, don’t plan. Just lay back and take what he has to give you.

  Jack met Meg halfway up the hall, and Sara realized he headed her off on purpose, keeping her from approaching where the hall smelled a bit musky. There would be no doubt that sex had occurred there.

  “What brings you to our fancy downtown office, young man?”

  “Had to bring something over to Sara. We have a tough deal that’s finally coming together. I wanted to deliver it in person and I knew she’d be here — she’s always here, isn’t she?” Jack threw an arm around Meg’s shoulders.

  “Yes, our Sara, she’s a hard worker,” Meg agreed. “She’ll be our top producer in no time!”

  Jack looked back, caught Sara’s eye and winked. “Yep, she’ll be on top very soon for sure. Especially if I have a say in it!”

  She glared at him, her whole body reacting to his words like a silly love-struck teenager.

  “We’re headed out,” Sara caught up with them and breezed past. “Want us to lock up or are you staying a while Meg?” She didn’t care, really, simply needed to get out of the space. Her brain spun out of control. It was not a feeling she liked or wanted to perpetuate. “Meet you at Tres Amigos Jack.” She tossed over her shoulder, unwilling to look back, not trusting herself to meet his eyes.

  On his way to meet Sara at the Mexican place, Jack had to roll down all his windows and let the slightly cooling Michigan summer night breeze ruffle his hair. He kept a hand on the wheel but brought the other to his face, wanting to keep Sara’s scent near. He shook his head to clear it. There had been no need to drop any papers off — that was what scanners and email were for. He had wanted her to think it a random drop-in visit, not the premeditated encounter it was. But things had spiraled out of control fast, too fast.

  It had been a real buzz getting to know her through this deal. Her professionalism, the calm
efficiency she used to handle her buyer had been amazing and he knew damn good and well that was part of her appeal. It drove him to her office that night, determined to scoop her up and take her out, somewhere, anywhere, dinner, dancing, whatever she wanted. The sight of her in unselfconsciously sexy denim and cotton, hair unruly, sans any makeup, eyes bright and obviously eager to see him — had smacked him in square in the libido. He licked his lips in the car’s dark interior.

  The chemical spark that passed between them when she took the innocuous excuse of a document had caught Jack off guard. He thrived on raw sexual energy. He’d spent years enjoying the company of as many different women as possible — as teacher and student. But this? This was something completely new to him. The ever-present hum of erotic energy running through him lately revved, and his brain filled with images of them together, of her on her knees eyes cast down. His hands shook as he readjusted them on the wheel.

  What was it about this chick anyway? She was hot, no doubt — tight ass, firm body, light brown, mid length hair that he could still feel between his fingers. And those absolutely incredible eyes. Unlike many men, he had no preference: blondes, redheads, brunettes, made no difference. He tended to be drawn to women on the thinner side or at least ones that cared about their bodies enough to exercise every now and then, which she clearly did.

  It had been nearly a year since he first saw her — really saw her — when she walked out of that penthouse condo, wearing that fine, just-fucked look on her lovely face. A solid year and his obsession with her had only increased. Usually, when a woman proved to be inaccessible he moved on to the next one. Not this time.

  The evening hadn’t gone at all like he had planned. Figuring she’d be dressed for work and would want to go out he had come straight from his own office, and had the night planned from start to finish, not really anticipating his need to take her, right then and there. Something about her had forced him closer, only for a taste. Of course, he’d gotten a lot more than that. Her meeting his need halfway only served to ramp up his urge to take, to own, up against the wall like an animal.