by Peyton Banks
“Mm.” A moan escapes me, giving him a hint of how much I’m enjoying his touch.
He pauses for a minute to unbutton my pants and remove them. I don’t fight. In fact, I lift my hips to aid in my de-pantsing. He pulls me to an erect position and removes my crop top, leaving me in nothing but my La Perla lingerie.
“Would you have a problem if I took your hair down from your ponytail?” He twirls it around his fingers, taking a handful into his grasp and gently pulling my head back where he places gentle bites along my neckline.
“No, go ahead,” I reply.
He carefully removes my hair cuff, allowing my tresses to fall into an unruly pattern. He massages my scalp, starting off with light and tender strokes before increasing the pressure. He moves down to the base of my neck and uses slow, circular motions against my skin, pressing into my flesh.
“Ah,” I say as the increase of pleasure reaches my clit.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No, the opposite. This feels amazing. Almost—”
“Climatic?”
“Yesss,” I breathe out.
He expands his fingers down my shoulders and over to my spine where he plays it like a fine-tuned piano. I lie down, face-first, giving him full access to my entire back. Calmly and sensually the motions continue, engaging me in a deep relaxation and peaks of near orgasm.
He turns me over and relaxes beside me, propped up on his elbow, lusciously tracing the outline of my body with the tips of his fingers.
“Did you enjoy the massage?” he inquires with a sinful smile.
I can’t think of anything to say. I’m enthralled by his gaze, and it beckons me, commands me, calls me. I push him onto his back, straddling him before taking his mouth with mine. Not a rushed kiss, but a slow, lingering, tongue-dancing, I-could-do-this-all-night mouth journey. I reach down and undo his jeans and find he is without underwear.
“Do you like going commando?” I ask, easing the denim over his hips.
“Yeah, when I’m at home. I like to have one less thing to get in my way of relaxing.” He lifts his pelvis to assist with the removal.
I stroke him from base to shaft to head and back down again, feeling him harden with each pass. The way his veins pulsate and his breath hitches makes me crave him even more. Removing my thong bikini, I ease myself onto his cock, gradually rocking my hips back and forth.
“Simone,” he calls out, dragging the ‘s’ in my name while gripping my hips. “Damn, baby, you do that so good,” he adds.
In my mind, I make a checklist to come back to the ‘babe’ comment. I’m sure it’s the heat of the moment. I change up my motion and move more in a circular pattern. This proves to be the thing he loves. He tilts his head back, and I lean in to lick his prominent Adam’s apple. I switch to using up-and-down actions, and he grips me even tighter holding my gaze with his.
There are no words spoken, not even the sounds you would hear between a couple enthralled in passion. We look at each other as I maintain the lead position.
“You’re going to make me come if you keep doing me like you do,” he says, breaking the silence.
“Isn’t that the goal? To make you come?” I softly speak into his ear, biting his lobe in the process.
He pulls me closer and takes my breasts into his mouth, sucking my nipples to an erect point then lavishly licking on them, intensifying my growing senses. I let out a moan, and my rhythm increases speed. The sweat between us slicks my already wet pussy as we continue to slam into each other.
“Wait, wait,” he says, stopping all movement.
“Something wrong?” I manage to get out with half breaths.
“No, nothing’s wrong. You were on top last time, it’s my turn.”
He grins and quickly flips our position, my back meeting the coolness of the sheets. He laps at the sweat covering my belly and up to the divide between my mountains before sliding his massive dick back into me, and my senses pick up right where they left off.
On instinct, I wrap my legs around his waist, tilting my hips up with each thrust and bracing for the ensuing ride.
“Lucas, I can’t hold back much longer,” I say when the excitement below builds, signaling a forthcoming ending to a long and steamy session.
“Come for me, baby. Let it go,” he growls through his deepening thrusts. “Fuck, Simone,” he calls out to the passion unleashing within and collapses on top of me.
I follow his lead, digging my heels into his hips and my nails in his back. “Lucas, Lucas, Lucas,” I moan, my legs falling like jelly from their perch.
We lie there gulping for air, soundly like we both finished running a marathon. He slowly rolls to his back, draping his hand across his forehead. I prop up on my elbow and look at the beautiful man lying next to me. It’s my turn to trace and trail fingers to places unexplored. I start with his abs, and he clenches, letting out a slight giggle.
“Babe, stop. I’m ticklish,” he explains.
There’s that word again. I figure with all the fun out the way, now’s a good time to discuss. “Why do you keep calling me babe or baby?” I ask. I go over his nipples, and they contract at my touch. My gaze drifts south, and I see they are not the only things responding.
He inhales deeply and releases before answering. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind, but I’m sensing this is only a fuck thing to you.” Things down south go soft, and his body stops responding to my touch.
“It’s not that I mind, I’m curious. We’ve been at each other for two years, and now I’m babe? Seems weird, that’s all.”
He turns over and catches my attention. “Hey, this is going to sound crazy, but I’ve had a crush on you since the day we met. I only kept up the mean-spirited rivalry so I could have interactions with you. I even remember what you wore the first time I saw you. You had on these gray pants that were made for your body and a white silky-like sleeveless top. I only knew it was sleeveless ’cause when we all went to lunch, you removed the matching jacket. I kept watching you like a man obsessed. I knew I wanted you and was determined to get you.”
“Why didn’t you go for it early on?”
“Well, you were pissed when Armstrong gave me that one athlete’s account, and I think you’ve hated me ever since then.”
I think back to how I busted my ass for that account and knew I had it when Jarron Brown, pro basketball all-star rookie of twenty-fourteen, sent me and Tanya flowers plus a gift basket of spa goods. Then Armstrong called a meeting and announced Lucas was the account manager. This was a guy I had good office rapport with, was new to the company, and he snagged the one thing I wanted so I could attract more clients like him. It’s hard for women, especially African-American women, to be taken seriously in this field. So, he’s right. I had it in for him ever since.
“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. You missed out on two years,” he coyly states.
“Two years of what?” I laugh.
“This.” He tilts my head towards him and kisses me. “And this,” he says, moving his lips down to my neck, pushing me over on to my back. “And this.” He eases his dick into my swollen, slick pussy, and my back arches when I brace for maximum insertion.
I relax, and he strokes softly, slowly, sweetly until we crash…two hours later.
7
I slept for most of Sunday. Hell, I didn’t even get in until nine AM. Needless to say, my mother was pissed. Not that she was worried, but I didn’t call. Lesson learned: you’re never too old to not call your parents. The fact I even made it home should be commended. Lucas wanted me to stay and spend the entire day with him, and by my second orgasm of the early morning, he nearly had me convinced. Mother’s text made the final decision. After a short nap, I took her to go find a nice dress to wear for her nuptials this Friday, then we had lunch before going back home where I slept until today. I didn’t even bother to answer my messages from Lucas. His dad actually called my mom and asked i
f I was feeling okay ’cause Lucas wouldn’t get out of bed. He thought maybe it was the food from brunch or something going around at work.
I arrive at the office with a different walk than usual. Not the I-spent-my-weekend-getting-my-back-broke-like-records walk, but a new outlook on life type of vibe.
“Good morning,” I say to everyone I pass.
“You sure have a lively step this morning, Ms. Greene,” the lobby receptionist says.
“Oh, yes. My mom is in town, and I love when she’s here.”
“Oh, really. I thought it had to do with those deep-purple hickeys on your neck.”
The sudden stripe of horror hits me, and I fast pace to the elevator so I can get to my office and see what I missed. I was careful to put ice on them this morning after my shower and use my water-based concealer to hide the evidence.
“Ms. Greene, Mr. Armstrong—” Tanya begins to speak as I approach her desk.
“Not now, Tanya. I need to get something done really quick.” I flash by her and run into my office, closing and locking the door. I shut the blinds and look at my neck. To help aid in my disguise, I wear a semi-high collared, sleeveless, thin sweater to help hide the passion mark from this weekend. Seeing how this isn’t helping, I switch to a button-down blue shirt and use a silk scarf to help hide the evidence. I take out the emergency concealer usually reserved for surprise presentations after I’ve been up all night binging on TV and begin applying. This solidifies my point that having extra wardrobe in your office is a must. A knock at my door gives me even more reason to panic.
“Yes?” I calmly call out.
“It’s Armstrong. Why is your door locked? Are you okay?”
I don’t have time to do much blending, so I hurry and find my little nautical scarf I use on my hair and fashion a simple accessory before opening the door.
“Yes, Mr. Armstrong?”
He raises one eyebrow as he looks at me. “Going sailing later?” he quizzically and comically implies.
I do a little nervous giggle and offer up a phony excuse. “Oh, this? Pssh, I spilt um, coffee on my shirt and tried to clean it but made it worse. I had to change shirts, which is why the door was closed. Did you need me for something?”
“Uhhh, no. I am calling for a meeting of all heads today after lunch. A few changes are coming you may be interested in. Be in the big conference room sharply at one-fifteen PM.”
I spot Lucas walking in, and he flashes me a smile before heading on to his office. I swear he’s moving in slow motion and this is that fantasy sequence you see in movies.
“You hear me, Greene?” Mr. Armstrong’s deep voice calls to me for understanding.
“Mmhmm, yes, sir. We’ll be there.”
He turns and walks away, and I nearly melt through my shirt. I turn on my desk fan to the highest setting and lean in front of it, trying to will away the perspiration.
“Okay, what the hell is going on, Simone? You are never like this,” Tanya asks when she steps into my office.
“I had a little early morning mishap with my coffee. You know, typical Monday.”
“Nah, this is something else. You had a date this weekend, didn’t you?”
How thin is my veil if she can see right through it? But of course, I’m gonna deny everything.
“No. I wouldn’t have had time. I picked my mom up Saturday, met her new man, and then suddenly I’m planning a party on my rooftop for a wedding and reception. I just have a lot going on.”
“Yeah. That must be it. You are completely frazzled. Anyway, the new reports are in for mailing, but I ran out of brochures.”
“Oh, well, I will go down to the storage closet and grab a new box. Anything else we need?”
“Well, notebooks, pens, markers… Do you want me to go with?”
“No, I got it. I need to walk off my nerves anyway. Can you pull the team together for a meeting after Armstrong’s? May as well get ready for the change.”
“Maybe he’s announcing that senior manager position today. That’s what the rumor mill is buzzing about.”
“I guess we’ll find out at one-fifteen. I’ll be back in a few.” I head to our main storage located on the lower level of the building. I and the other account managers are the only ones who have access to this room. I exit the elevators and pull out my key card to gain entrance. I fumble around for the light switch, and when I do find it, only one fluorescent bulb comes to life, barely casting enough of a glow for me to see.
“Great,” I mumble. Good thing I know where the cart and the items I’m looking for are located. I grab the shipping cart and walk towards the back of the seventeen by seventeen space where the boxed items are kept. I use the step stool to reach the sealed packs of brochures and folders and carry them back down to the waiting transporter.
“Hey, Monie,” Lucas says.
His surprise appearance scares the shit out of me, and all the items in my hands fall from my grasp. “Fuck. Can’t you make your presence known when you enter a room?” I yell.
“I’m sorry, the view was a sight to see for a Monday morning.”
Okay, he wins with that corny line. “Still, you could’ve given me a heart attack.” I reach out and hit him on his chest.
“So, what’s the deal with the sailor’s scarf?” he asks.
“It would appear someone left a hickey on my neck the size of a globe grape.”
“Well, in his defense, I think he was getting some sweet pussy and was sucking on your neck to see if all of you was just as sweet.” He nuzzles under my neck and feels under my skirt till he reaches my panties. Running his finger along the seat of them, he lets out a slow hiss when he feels the moisture already seeping through. “Is this for me?” he asks, nibbling on my ear.
“Yes,” I breathe out.
He presses me against the wall, wrapping my legs around his waist and hiking my skirt up, exposing my cheeks since I’m wearing my undies of choice. “Why didn’t you reply to my messages?” he asks, his fingers invading my sticky opening. He captures my lips with his, and his tongue forces its way in.
“I was resting since you wore my ass out,” I reply.
He unbuckles his pants, lets them fall around his ankles, and pulls out the mini-monster, stroking it and slapping it up against my ass. I can feel his excitement seeping out as he moves his dick around.
“You still should’ve texted me.” He slams into me deep and hard.
My still sore lips take the brunt of his thrust, and I yelp slightly.
“Ah, fuck.”
He covers my mouth with his hand and continues to drive. We bump into the wall, and with each thrust I fear someone will hear us or something will fall from the top shelf. I dig my nails into his shoulders, gripping tightly when my orgasm comes out of left field.
“Fuck. Lucas, I’m coming.”
He moves his hand from my mouth and presses my neck gently and shudder against his body. His grip tightens when he reaches his own peak. The veins in his neck pop, and he grits through the final thrusts. He leans his head on my chest while our breathing calms down.
“Have dinner with me?” he requests.
“Okay. Where do you want to go?”
“My place. I’ll text you the address and time. I think our parents are going on a date tonight.”
“Are you cooking, or do I need to bring something?”
He lets me back down, and I remove my undies, rendering them useless. Taking off his t-shirt, he uses it as a rag to clean himself up.
“I’ll take care of everything. Be sure to bring a change of clothes. We can ride to work together tomorrow.”
“I will bring myself and an overnight bag. What about your dad?”
“He’s going to my uncle’s later to help with some business things. So, we will have the place all to ourselves.” He lands another kiss on my lips.
An unorthodox solution presents itself as I look around and spot some paper towels. Thankfully, I have personal wipes and a backup pair of panties in
my office. “I look forward to it.” I gather the rest of my items and straighten myself out before heading back upstairs.
Only the leads and their assistants could participate in the surprise meeting. We are all gathered around the table, and wouldn’t you know, Lucas is sitting dead in front of me. As Armstrong goes on about how Kyle Bloomfield, a senior account manager, will be leaving at the end of the month, Lucas and I are exchanging texts.
Lucas: I dropped my pen. I may need to go under the table to get it. Wonder what I will see while down there.
Simone: I wish you could taste what you’ll see.
He casually bends down to get his property and grazes my leg with his hand before returning to his seat.
“Everything all right, Weathers?” Armstrong asks.
“Uh, yes, sir. I dropped my writing equipment, and it rolled over by Ms. Greene’s feet. I was trying not to get kicked.”
Armstrong gives him an awkward eye, and the whole room looks towards me when I don’t respond.
“Oh, I didn’t have a clue what he was doing. I was listening intently to your presentation.”
A few heads nod in agreement, and Armstrong continues.
Simone: You’re going to get us caught.
Lucas: I like the thrill of it all. BTW, where did those panties come from?
Simone: I keep a spare for unplanned incidents.
Lucas: Oh, I see. Don’t have those on tonight.
Simone: And you don’t wear anything over this.
I remove my shoe, extend my leg, move my foot up his leg, and nestle it against his junk. My gentle strokes awaken the beast underneath those slacks, and he squirms a little to adjust himself. He glances up at me and flashes a subtle smile. Meanwhile, I look towards Mr. Armstrong.
“So, that’s why I am naming Lucas Weathers as our new senior account manager,” he announces.
The room erupts in claps and whistles while my heart sinks. I turn back to Lucas, and he has a look of surprise on his face, but mine quickly turns to anger. I move my foot from his lap, and he stands to go shake Mr. Armstrong’s hand. I fake a clap, but as I stare at him, I hope I’m boring a hole into his head.
