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Desk Set

By: MonikaBlue



If that phone rang one more time, I was going to scream. Six projects, all marked "urgent" sitting in front of me and a full morning of meetings. They all worked together to produce one of those headaches that just wouldn't quit. It was 12:30PM and my morning coffee was good and worn off. Even the prospect of a lunch date with a handsome vendor's rep didn't take the edge off my near-hysteria.

My assistant appeared in my door with that look on her face. That look that made me want to throw something at her head. "Mr. Bingman called," she stated. My Board president. He was a case and a half. In addition to being from a planet on which men never learned to type, he was prone to "great ideas" which had no past, no future and no relation to our strategic plan. I took a deep breath and waited for the shoe to hit the floor. Eileen stood looking at me.

"And?" I said, keeping my temper barely in control. I had told her before that I much prefer her to get to the point when she has things to tell me, but apparently her Wisconsin upbringing just couldn't produce that result. My phone rang quietly as I waited for her to finish. Voice mail was just going to have to do the trick for that important salesperson. 

"Um... He wants to meet with you later this afternoon about the agenda for next week's board meeting." Her eyes stuck on the desk lamp like it was fly paper. 

"Did he say what he wanted to talk about? The board packets have already gone out. The agenda's in print. What does he want to do that can't be done at the board meeting?" I arched my neck to the right, stretching out a pesky muscle set that went charley-horse on me when I was stressed. 

"He didn't say. He sounded pretty excited though," she smiled weakly at me and scooted off. Well, at least he's excited, I thought as I picked up the phone receiver to call him. He picked up on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Rod, it's Karey. Eileen said you called?" I breathed as deeply as I could, spreading my knees and stretching my spine. 

"Hi, yeah, I have a great idea about recognizing donors to the library that I'd like to present to the board at next week's meeting and I've called a rep from a company that does those things to meet with us this afternoon at 4PM. I need you there to talk about our individual and corporate giving campaigns so he can get an idea of what kind of recognition they need."

Thank god we don't have video phones, is all I could think. I had four drop-deadlines of tomorrow at 5PM and little hope of making them if I couldn't get three solid hours of work in on each project. The idea of sitting with my torqued-up little leprechaun of a Board President and some smarmy sales person right in the middle of my available work time made me mouth expletives at the phone. Ultimately, though, I responded as calmly as I could.

"I'm sure I'll be able to accommodate you, Rod... I have a lot on my plate today, but I think Eileen can give you what you need. I'll see –"

"Oh, I'd really rather prefer your artistic eye in the matter," he oiled me. "I really hope we can have you at the table." I breathed in and held it.

"I'll do what I can, Rod. We'll get it squared away, I promise."

"Thanks, Karey! I'll see you this afternoon, then!"

Not if I see you first, I thought as I hung up. I put my arms on the desk in front of me on top of four accordion folders bulging with projects and put my head down on my arms. Would I ever get a stinking break? The phone rang again. Apparently, the answer was no. 

"This is Karey Collins," I chanted in to the receiver, not picking my head up off my arm. 

"Hi, Karey, it's Greg." Cell phone. Man in car. Handsome man in car. Handsome man in car calling to break our lunch date. 

"Hi Greg." There was a static filled silence.

"Are you ok?" He had the nicest voice. "You sound a little down." I had to laugh as I dragged my heavy head into an upright position. 

"No, I'm fine. Just a heck of a day."

"So what else is new?" He chuckled. Ever since we'd begun negotiations on using his electronic delivery service for the library he'd been ribbing me about my schedule. Not that he had a vested interest in my schedule. As a married man he was on my "better not" list. Of course that didn't stop him from flirting with me mercilessly and me responding in kind. I dug this guy.

"Not a thing," I purred, enjoying the physical sensation this conversation was engendering in me. Something about his voice, his intensity, made my nerves sit up and pay attention. "You aren't calling to cancel, are you? That would break my poor little overworked heart, you heel." 

"Not canceling, just running a little late." I glanced up at the clock. No problem. I could still get some work done before he got there. "About 15 – 20 minutes. I'll be there no later than 1:30. Is that ok?"

"Well, I may have to punish you a little," I grumbled in jest.

"Oooh. Just a little? That doesn't sound like the Karey I've come to know and love."

"That's all you get, mister. And you'd better be grateful it's just a tongue-lashing." This man drives me wild, I thought. 

"I'll be there for my lashing as soon as I can. Don't start without me! See you."

He rang off and I hung up the receiver. Jeez. My nipples were hard as little diamonds. All work and no play makes Karey a desperate girl, I thought and stood up from my chair for the first time in hours. I glanced out the door of my office to see my staff bustling about from copier to desk to fax machine. Carrying stacks of books from cataloging to processing. My mood lifted. What was I complaining about? I had a great staff, a great job, a great body of work behind me. Deadlines were passing things. Oh, boy, were they passing. I walked around my desk to close my office door -- something that doesn't get done very often. I had an urge to prep for my lunch a little.

With the door closed, my office was a haven. I adjusted the mini-blinds on the window that looked out on the parking lot and glanced at myself in the full-length mirror on the wall. I was glad I dressed with a little care this morning, working against my tendency to put on comfy and serviceable clothes when I'm feeling overextended. I leaned in to touch up my lipstick and apply a little powder to my shiny nose. Fluff the hair a little, adjust the breasts in the push-up bra to get the cleavage just right. My staff always ribbed me about my low-cut outfits as "un-librarianlike" – to which I replied that's just what I was going for. Made sure the hemline of my black above-the-knee skirt's in place. I put my foot on a chair to smooth my stockings. One of my little vanities – stockings and garters. No one knows but me, but that's plenty. I appraised the line of my leg and high heels in the mirror. Nice. I looked right into my own eyes and made the last decision. I slipped off my black panties. Why not? I slipped them in my desk drawer and buttoned my ¾-length jacket. Let's go have a little fun, Karey, whattaya say?

I opened my door again and sat down at my desk, smoothing my skirt under me to get it to lay between my bare pussy and the office chair. I wriggled a little, enjoying the feeling of my skin against the skirt. Work went on as usual outside, the only thing changed was me. And my mood. I turned to my computer to scan the latest emails that had arrived since I stood up. I was firing back a quick response to a reference question from a patron when Eileen appeared again in my doorway. 

"Greg is here for your lunch appointment," she grinned at me – she thought he was cute, too. "Want me to tell him you'll be out or bring him back?" I thought for a moment.

"Bring him back. I have just a couple of things I need to finish before we can leave." I turned back to the monitor and typed furiously for a minute or two. Then he arrived in my door. I looked up to him, taking in the well-cut suit and the well-cut body that lurked beneath. I smiled and he smiled back. 

"Come on in, Greg, I'll be done in a minute."

"Wow. You're really efficient, " he growled in a low voice, "I would have tagged you as a woman who needed something more than a minute."

"You, sir, are a pig," I dimpled at him and gestured him to the chair by my desk. "And I'll thank you not to distract me while I try to do my very important work."

"Yes, ma'am," he smiled and took the chair. I finished the email and swung around in my chair to face him. He looked at me deliberately, from my black suede heels to my red lips. I felt a rush of warmth between my legs. Maybe the no-panty thing wasn't such a good idea after all, I thought. "You look great, Karey. No one would ever think you're just a crazy workaholic."

"You're sweet," I smiled and crossed my legs, feeling self-conscious. He noticed the top of my stocking before I could pull the hem of my skirt to cover it. 

"Nice," he said directly into my eyes. "Thank heaven not all of my clients look like you. I'd never get anything done."

"Flatterer. You're still in trouble, so don't try to suck up to me," I laughed, incredibly pleased. I could feel the flush rising over my breasts and up to my hairline.

"Oh darn, and that's exactly what I had in mind," despite his rakish smile his eyes burned seriously into mine. Wow. This was the most aggressive he'd ever been. And my body responded immediately. My mind was whirring with the battle between professional ethics and sheer desire that his wordplay was inspiring. I looked down into my lap, desperately trying for an intellectual foothold. 

"Wait a minute..." he said and I breathed in and looked up, hoping for a reprieve from this suddenly charged exchange. He stood up and closed the distance between us, leaning over me. I could smell his aftershave and beneath that, another scent that did things to my brain. His hand rested on my shoulder for a moment then made a flicking motion, his other on the desk in front of me. "You've got something on your jacket..." He leaned in to put his lips next to my ear and whispered, "you smell fantastic."

"Um..." I simply couldn't control the jittery desire to reach up to touch his chest between the lapels of his jacket. "So do you," I breathed back, my breasts swelling up toward him, as if they had a mind of their own. 

He straightened and looked down at me. My eyes were on a level with the front of his trousers. I saw movement behind the worsted wool that made my pussy react in sympathy. There was simply no getting around this, I thought. So we might as well go through. I took a deep breath of air that was filled with molecules of his scent and made an executive decision in the field. I looked up at him and smiled. 

"What say we do a working lunch here... would be much more... effective. In light of the other issues I'm dealing with here," my voice was gravelly but surprisingly strong. He stepped back a bit and put his hands on his waist inside his jacket. 

"Hmmm. That sounds like a plan to me. I'm game if you are."

"Oh, I'm game," I muttered, almost to myself, "I'm way game." I picked up the phone and pushed Eileen's extension. "Eileen, Greg and I are going to be eating in and working over things here in my office." I glanced up at him and he smoldered back at me. He shrugged off his jacket to reveal a crisp blue shirt. "Would you call out to the deli for a delivery for us? We'll have whatever's special today." 

Greg pointed a finger "gun" at me and fired. "You're the special" he mouthed. Any other time I would have groaned from the corny-ness of the gesture, but this time I groaned from enjoyment. 

"Want me to take your calls?" Eileen said.

"Nah, let 'em go to voice mail. I'll deal with it later. But we'll need to work undisturbed."

"Got it," Eileen replied. She was a good assistant, no doubt about it. 

I stood up, adjusting my skirt a little and passed Greg who had resumed his seat. I thought I felt a touch on the back of my thigh as I made the turn to close the door. I secured the door and turned my back to it. I leveled a look at the man in the chair who looked for all the world like he owned the place, his arm draped over the back of the chair, smiling at me. Just for a moment, my fevered brain placed a yellow feather in the corner of his sweet mouth. Yum. 

"Ok, working lunch. So." Suddenly, I felt shy as a schoolgirl. A schoolgirl with a dripping pussy and no panties. "What's on the agenda?"

"Well," he drawled, stretching his arms then unbuttoning his cuffs. He rolled up his sleeves to reveal smooth muscular forearms. I've always been a sucker for a man's forearms. I couldn't move. "How 'bout we start with your needs." He didn't look up at me. I was released from my paralysis and bustled back to my chair, touching his shoulder as I passed around him. 

"There's something I can't hear enough," I laughed, resuming my seat. I noticed a small wet spot on the upholstery before I sat down. I smoothed my skirt under me again and pressed my knees together tightly, squeezing my rampant pussy. I spread my feet apart to keep my knees together. My brain reluctantly let loose it's busy building of sexually explicit images of the man across from me and turned toward serving the library's patrons with the electronic delivery of information. Local history and genealogy, real-time reference and homework help. I struggled to concentrate. 

"Those are great shoes," Greg said, his voice barely audible. "Mind if I take a look?" He slid from his chair to a position on one knee in front of me, like a shoe salesman. I looked at him for a moment, then watched as my right leg extended toward him of its own volition. He took my ankle in his left hand, studiously examining my suede-clad foot. His right hand encircled my calf. My legs turned to rubber at his touch. "Beautiful..." he murmured, retaining his hold on my ankle, but turning his body into the vee of my legs. His right hand slid ever-so-slowly up my left thigh, stopping at the top of my black stocking. "I could smell you when I stepped into your office."

"Hunh... really" I was finally able to get out. Apparently my language centers were on lunch break. Every little piece of work that was on my plate slid neatly off as I sat in the chair, this handsome man between my knees. 

"Really. And I got hard. You've given me hard-ons on the phone, but I've never had one so hard right in your presence." His fingers were exploring the inch of bare skin above the top of my stocking. He put his nose to the top of my left knee. My right leg was still extended in his grasp. He pushed it out slightly. I could feel cool air on the feverish skin between my legs. I caught a whiff of myself. He looked into my eyes. "I have to have you." His fingers left the lacy top of my stocking and trailed lightly to the center of that smell. One fingertip explored just the edges my crevice, remarkably accurate in it's exploration. A sharp intake of breath and his eyes closed. He put his finger to his nose then in his mouth. 

"Jesus." He pulled sharply on my ankle, rolling the chair toward him until it rested against his crotch. He pushed against the edge of the chair, I could see the outline of his hardness and had to reach out to touch it. He caught my hand before it could reach its goal. "Oh, no, Miss Collins. This time you'll have to sit through my pitch before you join in the fun." He grinned and put my right foot on the floor, pulling the chair hard against him, my knees firmly on either side of his hard waist. He pulled open the shallow pencil drawer under my desktop. Peering inside, he gave a grunt of satisfaction. "Just what the doctor ordered..." he brought out two rubber bands. I was intrigued and apprehensive at the same time. He slipped the rubber bands over my hands on the arms of the chair, keeping them firmly but not uncomfortably in place.

"I see how this works," I smiled.

"Do you now?" He growled and leaned into me, reaching his hand under the chair. "Push up with your feet," he ordered. I did as instructed, and my chair rose several inches. My feet dangled. He scooted back to check his work. I wondered what he saw as he perused me, arms affixed to the chair, eyes large with trepidation, breath coming short, making my breasts heave in a most literary manner. He appeared to like what he saw. His hands moved up the outside of my thighs to the bare skin under my skirt. His hands grasped the meat of my buttocks and pulled me toward him. My skirt slid up revealing the tops of my stockings. He sat back on his heels. "Wish I had a camera," he chuckled. "This is a view I'd like to revisit in private moments in the future."

"Oh, I'm not photogenic," I giggled, shaking. I could feel the moisture between my legs begin to flow in earnest. 

"I doubt that," he said, serious now. His eyes were fixed on the hem of my skirt. He took my right ankle in hand once again, this time placing my heel on the edge of the desk. The stretch felt good in my elevated position and my similarly elevated erotic state. I felt the lips of my pussy part. He looped his elbow under my left knee and spread my legs fully. My skirt folded neatly up to expose the bare flesh between my legs. "My god, you're so wet." He bent closer to my unfolding sex. His tongue extended and ventured into my not-so-mysterious mystery. "So sweet..."

My head fell back and I gave in completely to the feel of his mouth upon me. Every thought, every response was focused on the meeting of his lips, tongue and breath with my sex. He moved my knee over his shoulder and reached under my skirt to pull my hips harder against his face. His chin rubbed the sensitive skin below my vagina and his tongue probed deep inside me. The sound of his ministrations mingled with whispered groans of pleasure. Whether the emanated from him or me, I couldn't tell. He pushed the tip of his nose gently up, touching the hard little nub that sang with pleasure at his attention. His hands slid to the front of me and he pulled back a few inches to view his handiwork. His attention was fully on my sex and I took the opportunity to study his face. His mouth, cheeks and chin were covered in glistening fluid. His tongue stole out to clean the area around his delicious lips. A groan escaped from deep inside me. 

His fingers deftly parted my nether lips, folding back the pink cover from my clit. I looked down to see my little man emerge from the boat. A deep chuckle preceded his dive to take the nubbin of nerve-endings between his lips. My hands clenched on the arms of the chair and my hips levered up as the surfeit of stimulation made me want to call out in pleasure. I pushed hard against his back with my left leg and hard against the desk with my right. In the back of my brain, awash with hormones, I was grateful for the solidity of my office furniture and the flexibility from years of yoga. He reached under to support my pelvis and continued his assault on my clit. I could feel the orgasm approaching from the tips of my toes. As my breathing became more erratic, he slipped a finger inside my streaming pussy, sliding up to spread the juice around the area his lips were treating. The methodic pressure, the penetration and petting marched me right to the edge of the precipice. I arched harder, ready to descend just as the intercom sounded.

"Karey? Lunch is here." We were frozen in place for a moment. His face tilted up, a goofy smile festooned with my juices. He quickly and neatly unfolded my leg from his neck and plucked my foot from the desk's edge. I thought I would scream. Instead, I stood shakily, pulled down my skirt, leaned over to press the intercom. 

"Thanks, Eileen – we'll be ready in a few minutes. Tell Tom the deli guy I'll be over later to take care of the bill."

"Gotcha." 

I made sure the intercom link was closed and turned to look at Greg who remained below me, kneeling again on one knee. His hand darted boldly beneath my skirt, directly to my slippery pussy. One brief thrust inside with a finger which he then withdrew and put in his mouth. 


Desk Set



I'm a 33 year old law recruiter in a relatively small office. I work pretty long and intense hours, but I'm good at what I do. I've dated here and there (had a longer term relationship or two), but let's face it...for me, right now, work comes first.

So I was, to put it mildly, annoyed when we got the boss's memo that his 21 year old son would be coming to work for us for the summer. I'd seen these scenarios before, and inevitably, the slacker college kid ended up making twice the work for all of us while he screwed around on the internet all day and we bit our tongues and looked the other way.

But after commiserating with my closest friend and co-worker, we realized we there probably wasn't much of an alternative, and decided to suck it up.

He arrived the following Monday. Tall, dark-haired, a cocky grin (big surprise) on his face. He grabbed my hand and shook it...and was it my imagination that his hand lingered a little longer on mine? Didn't matter. I brusquely showed him around, pointed him to his desk. Dusted my hands and made a wish that we'd all get through the summer as quickly and easily as possible. And then back to work.

A few hours later, I glanced up, and he was standing at my desk. "Need something?" I muttered, my eyes still pulled toward my email inbox.

"I had a question about this database I'm working on...could you come take a look?"

Slightly annoyed at being pulled away from my work, I walked to his desk. CDs were spread in front of it. I couldn't help but check out who he was listening to...and surprisingly, they were some of my favorites.

I fixed the problem he was having, and then suddenly, inexplicably, we were chatting. 

And that was how it began, and continued. I found my perceptions being challenged about him. He was intelligent, thoughtful. We definitely didn't see eye to eye on some things. But I would often catch myself in the middle of a debate with him, appreciating his passionate mind. Again, though, I shook it off. Boss's son. Just conversation.

Until that day.

*********************************************

It was just the two of us in the office--Kay was out sick, and Danny was on sales calls. I was doing my daily numbers report, and caught him looking over at me.

"What?" I asked.

"You know," he said slowly, an inscruitable look in his eye, "I was wondering if you're dating someone."

"Not that it's any of your business," I retorted smartly, my heart lurching a little at the unexpectedness of the question, "but...no. I've kind of got a full plate at the moment."

"Really?" He stood up from his chair, approaching my desk, then stood next to me and looked down. "Too busy for fun, good conversation...sex?"

Did he notice my sharp intake of breath?

"I'm so not going there with you."

"Going where?" His nonchalance was studied, almost too casual. 

"There. Talking about...this." I felt sweat trickling down the back of my knee.

He leaned down, grinning, then gripped my wrists in his strong hands. "Who said anything about talking?"

******************************************

Two weeks later.

He sits at his desk, legs spread slightly apart. My skirt's hiked up around my waist as I slowly, exquisitely slide myself up and down his cock. I'm dripping wet, and he's hugely turgid. He's moaning quietly. We're both sure at any moment someone's going to burst through the door and surprise us both.

But I don't want to stop. My clit is aching, his tongue is in my mouth, my hand is stroking his balls in 4/4 time. "Fuck" he whispers. I impale myself on him more deeply, slowly circling my hips, taking him further inside me. "Fuck!" he says louder, against my mouth. "God, please don't stop, I'm gonna come so hard..."

His finger is teasing and stroking my clit, even as he's coming. We move faster, writing against each other. It's unbearably good.

We collapse. 

I immediately hop off him, adjusting myself quickly. "You realize how wrong this is on so many levels," I say.

He looks up at me with that devilish glint in his eye. "Isn't that part of the fun?"

*******************************************

Monday morning, 8 a.m.

He walks through the door, hot and sweaty from his morning crew on the river. I see his dormant cock outlined through the thin mesh of his shorts.

"Good morning," I say. "Take your clothes off."

He immediately springs to attention. My mouth waters a little in anticipation.

"What?" He's a little out of breath, and somewhat disbelieving at what I just said.

"You heard me." I smile and pull on his hand, dragging him into the unoccupied office. "C'mere."

He strips naked in about 2 seconds flat, then stands in front of me, sheepish and embarrassed. He's a god. A little too thin--but all bone and sinew everywhere.

And a fully erect 7 inch cock.

I kneel in front of him, looking up just briefly to savor the exquisite anticipation in his eyes. No protests now, just a look of pure pleasure and astonishment that this is happening. Now, here, with me.

He groans in pleasure as I take him in my mouth and start to suck.

****************************************

It's August. Knowing we were nearing the end of the summer, we'd been fucking at least two, sometimes three times a day. We'd become more careless...sneaking into the bathroom together where he'd take me on the cold porcelain floor, kneeling on all fours while in the stairwell while he slipped beneath me, teasing me open with his fingers and tongue. I was beyond caring who knew, who saw...just living for this pleasure with him. And I knew he felt the same.

One night, we both stayed late, ignoring the knowing glances of our coworkers as they said their goodbyes. As the door shut on the last one, we came together in a rush against my desk.

His breath was hot on the back of my neck. "Take me home with you" he begged. "I want to sleep in your bed."

I glared, but inwardly I felt my stomach turning to liquid, my heart skipping faster. "I've told you, that's not an option. This is it."

His lips caressed me, and his hand slipped down the front of my blouse, stroking my nipples. I ached for him, arching my back against the hard press of his cock. "You know I'm in love with you. That I want more than this. Why can't we?"

"Because of--here. The situation." I guesticulate wildly around the office. "Your dad would kill me."

"Let me worry about that." His hand slips under my skirt now, anxious to find my center. He teases artfully. I hear the slide of a zipper. Then he's there, pressing me up against the desk. He spreads my juices to my ass crack, then lifts me up so he can gently thrust inside. I moan.

"You're going to marry me, you know" he murmers, puncuating his statement with a thrust.

"Excuse me?" I laugh, then gasps as he thrusts again.

"You'll see." Again, panting heavily as we move. "Summer romance doesn't quite apply..."

**************************************

Two years later.

I never knew Prague could be this beautiful. I remember V telling me about the St. Charles Bridge, and how she and J had wandered along it, totally in love.

And now, here I was.

I looked down at our entwined hands, a thick silver band on each left ring finger, and my carat sapphire flashing in the sun. He laughs aloud in sheer pleasure, and I pull him into a kiss. He holds me tight from behind, tender and sweet.

"How the hell did this happen?" I ask?

"Well, I guess we have my dad to thank for that," he laughs. "I love you so much."

"Who knew?" I smiled. It'd been a long road, and certainly unexpected, but I was happy. Though I never would have guessed I was going to end up the boss's daughter.



Desk Set



"Ahem," I raised an eyebrow at him, tapping my cheek to point out his lubricated state. He laughed, removing a snowy white handkerchief from his hip pocket. I didn't know men even carried handkerchiefs any more. Something tells me this guy had a boy scout's commitment to preparedness. He patted his cheeks and chin with the fabric, then held it to his nose and breathed deeply. 

"Not gonna wash this one for a while, I think," he said with a smile that brought me back to the edge of the precipice I had so recently vacated. He stood up, a little wobbly himself, I perceived. The clear evidence of his excitement tented the front of his tailored trousers, but otherwise he looked remarkably unruffled. I reached out to touch his hardness through the fabric, and this time he not only let me, he reached out to slip his fingers just under the neckline of my top, grazing the swell of my breasts with his fingertips. I teetered past him to take a look in the mirror before I could join the world again. I, too, looked amazingly unwrinkled and unstained, at least on the outside. Modern miracle fabrics to the rescue once again!

I raised the blinds and opened the window a crack to the early spring air. Smelled like... something... in here, I was sure. Best to air out a bit before opening the door to the offices. I had a mental image of a Cheech and Chong-style cloud rolling out from my office as I emerged. I giggled and turned to look at Greg who was sitting in the side chair again, legs crossed, his head down. 

"You ok?" I asked, fearing for a moment that he was conscience-stricken.

"Except for an erection that won't quit," he mumbled so quietly that I almost couldn't hear, "I'm just fine!" He chirped loudly and flashed straight white teeth up at me. 

"Hungry?" I swished to the door, my own moisture and his saliva making the tops of my thighs slip against each other. A twinge from my still-excited clit made me shiver and I got a good shock when I touched the door handle. "Whoa!" I pulled my hand back as the static charge snapped. 

"You're electric," he hummed. "Seriously." "Yeah," I ruefully shook my fingers. I took a deep breath and slipped out, closing the door behind me. Eileen looked up expectantly from her desk as I approached. If she noticed anything amiss, she was her usual sphinx-like self about it. God love the woman. I whisked up the cardboard box containing our lunches, glad to spot the two big bottles of water in lieu of sodas. 

"So what's for lunch?" I said breezily, hoping I sounded normal. 

"Turkey wrap and veggie pita," she smiled at my eye roll. 

"Yum. Thank heaven Tom's looking out for my health. At least they included chips..."

"Baked" we said together and laughed. 

"How's the meeting going?" Did I detect a note of archness in her query? Ah, what's the diff. 

"Good. His services are really... interesting. I think we have some definitely possibilities. We're just beginning to explore." Oh, there was that raised eyebrow. I had to laugh. "We'll be about another 45 to an hour, I think." I balanced the box on one hand and turned with my hand on the door. I checked the big clock, shocked to see we had whiled away nearly an hour already. It was pushing 3PM. "Rod will be here at 4 with a vendor from some display company... can you produce a set of our giving brochures? And if you go to that meeting for me, I'll give you a raise."

"Raise, hunh?" she chuckled and started sorting through files looking for the brochures. "How about working my Saturday for me this month?"

"You got it, babe. And by 'babe,' of course, I mean 'ma'am.'" I kicked up a heel behind me as I turned back to the door.

"Consider it done... Babe." 

"You're the best, Eileen. Don't ever change." With that, I was back in my office, closing the door behind me. I set the box with our lunch on a long filing cabinet, within reach but out of harm's way. Greg was stretched out in the chair, legs extended, feet crossed, hands laced behind his head. God, he was a beautiful man. 

"Better?" I opened a liter of water and held it out toward him.

"Depends on what you mean by better," he grasped the wrist of the hand holding the bottle and pulled me toward him, not roughly, but with a strength that took me by surprise. I straddled his legs just in time to keep from falling directly on top of him. Not that that would be so bad, I thought. He took the water bottle from me and set it carefully on the desk beside him. Then he reached right under my skirt, pulling it up to look at me in my "Bond Girl" pose. He slipped his hands under the garters holding my stockings. "This is some contraption you've got here. Looks like bondage to me." His hands explored the tops of my thighs thoroughly, nearing but not touching my pussy. I could feel the tingling begin again. Apparently I had just hit a plateau when we stopped. My body immediately began ramping up once more. That's a new one, I thought, as I tried to think his fingers into me by sheer force of will. I had never maintained a state of excitement quite like this before. 

"A girl's gotta exercise some kind of control," I answered, wanting to touch his face, his hair, but somehow reluctant to break the spell of his solitary exploration of my skin. 

"You seem to be doing an admirable job of that, young lady," he raised his eyes to mine and plunged a finger just inside me. Deeper. And then he stopped. His palm held my engorged sex and his thumb found my clit again. Then his long finger inside me began an exploration that soon had my knees buckling. This man definitely knew what he was doing. I sagged slightly against his hand, driving his digit into me, my ankles teetering over my high heels. "What do you think of that?" His voiced was pitched loudly enough to be heard outside the door. He pressed his finger toward his thumb with a strong, slow circular motion. I felt like I was going to pee, but knew that wasn't what was happening. I was going to experience a g-spot orgasm. Right here and right now. I couldn't breathe, much less respond vocally. My body began to shake all over, my legs vibrating, my hands clutched my breasts for balance. A great rush of moisture accompanied an explosion of feeling that barely resembled any other kind of orgasm. 

I breathed finally. Heavily. I fell forward, bracing my hands on the arms of his chair, my breasts nearly pressed against his face. He slid his hand from my bucking sex and brought it out from under my skirt, holding it up between us. He looked at his hand like a trophy. His palm was covered in silky, clear fluid. Not watery, but not thick, either. I could only assume that came from me. Wow.

"Amazing," I finally produced, also loud enough to be heard. If anyone was listening, they would probably think he was demonstrating some of his tools. Which in a way he was. 

"Thank you!" he raised his other hand to meet the drenched one and rubbed them lightly together. "Now, for the next feature..." He reached his hands up to the skin above my neckline and place his slippery palms against the curve of my breasts. I sucked in about a gallon of air, unprepared for the juxtaposition of cool, wet, warm and rough on my sensitized skin. My nipples strained immediately to attention. His fingers slipped again under the edge of my shirt, unerringly finding both nipples where they lay under the fabric of my bra. 

"Wow," I breathed lamely. 

"Nice, hunh? I've been working that one over in my head for you for some time." With that, he leaned forward, pulled the neckline of my shirt down along with the cup of my bra and clamped his lips around my hard nipple. Again I nearly collapsed on him. 

"Amazing," I muttered, my forearms that supported me shaking in a way that made my breast vibrate against his face. My god, I felt like I was going to orgasm again. Don't know what this man had going on, but it sure did work on me, whatever it was. Damn! In a supreme effort to disengage from this sensory overload I heaved up into a standing position, my nipple popping audibly out from between his lips. I looked down at it, cherry red and surrounded by shiny skin and looked at his lips, looking much the same as my breast. His face was soft with desire, a faint smile appling his cheeks. Gosh, I hoped he was enjoying this as much as I was. 

"Yes." He said, as if in answer to my internal question. 

"Yes what?" 

"Just yes. "

"Okay..." I was a little flustered, a little confused, but very very pleased. Very pleased. I dismounted from my straddling position (carefully – I was still very wobbly) and stood with my hands on my desk for a moment, catching my breath. I reached out for the bottle of water in front of me at the same time as he did – our hands met around the bottle. We looked at each other in shock and laughed.

"Plenty to go around, I think," and I leaned across to get the second bottle. I sat down in my chair which was still in its elevated state. I depressed the lever underneath and descended again toward earth. I settled it into a lower position than I usually did, just to give my legs a break. "Hungry?" I asked, feeling a sort of shyness steal over me, now that I wasn't so tightly in his orbit. He leveled a look at me that would melt mylar. 

"Famished." He stated it in such a way as to leave no doubt about what he was famished for. 

"Cad," I laughed, a bit nervous now. I stood shakily and made my way over to the box with our lunch. "Turkey wrap or veggie pita?" I gave him a naughty once-over over my shoulder. "Turkey, I think. You look like a guy who needs his protein."

He smiled again and lowered his eyes, a sweet flush suffusing his cheeks. He brought his hands to his face and breathed in deeply again. He has some hound in him, I thought. Then he stretched his legs out again, boldly adjusting the front of his trousers as I watched. Jeez, will this guy ever stop making me gush? I sincerely hoped not. 

"Gotta keep my strength up... right you are."

I cleared a spot on the edge of my desk for his sandwich and placed mine in front of my monitor. He looked at the paper-wrapped package for a moment. 

"Thanks," he said, looking up at me. A strangely sincere and simple statement that came from a place I couldn't quite figure.

"It's just a turkey wrap, Greg. I can do much better than that, given world enough and time..." I smiled at him, putting into it all the warmth I felt at that moment.

"I really needed that," he finished, unfolding his napkin and taking a long pull from his water. I wasn't really sure what we were talking about, but I was sure everything was good. Who needs analysis at a time like that?

I reached my hand out for my water and misjudged the weight of the water and the exhaustion of my hands and arms. The bottle slid right out of my fingers, tipped on the edge of my keyboard tray, tumbled into my lap and rolled off onto the floor. I chased it with hands just a hair too slow to stop the accident but fast enough to keep the actual damage to a minimum. A splash on my lap, a small puddle under my feet, mercifully none in my keyboard or the power strip under my desk. 

"Crap." I grumped, feeling like an oaf. It wasn't the first time I'd done this. I sat for a moment assessing the situation. 

"I'll get it," Greg said heartily, grabbing a stack of napkins from the lunch box. He went down on his knees once more, god love him, and headed under my desk to get the puddle before it spread. 

"You'll get all dirty down there," I moaned, thinking of the cleaning bill I'd insist on paying. Small price, I figured, watching his fabulous ass for a moment before making a half-hearted effort to get him out from under the desk.

"Sounds like a plan to me," he quipped, handing me a wad of wet napkins that I tossed in the trash can behind me. He was working on his second wad (if you'll pardon the expression) when a knock on the door made us both freeze. This was beginning to feel like a sitcom. Timing is everything.

"Yes?" I called through the door with my best "this better be good, and don't open that door" gruff. Unfortunately, is wasn't the perceptive Eileen, but the well-meaning but somewhat dense Tracy on the other side. She opened the door without an invitation (that might come up in her annual review, I made a mental note) and poked her head in the office. Greg was perfectly still and silent from his position. I scooted my chair into my keyboard try, desperately trying to cover, even though she couldn't see a thing past the monitor around which I peered. At least I hoped that was the case.

"Sorry to interrupt your meeting..." she peered around my office, perplexed by the absence of my meeting partner. 

"Um... he had to make a phone call," I stupidly explained. I could see her thinking about the little fact that she hadn't seen him exit my office. Snoopy pants, I thought. It'll serve her right if she's confused for the rest of the day. "What do you need?"

"Er... I..." While she stammered to the point, I felt hot breath on my knee and fingers on the inside of my thigh. I pressed my knees together and tapped my heel threateningly on the floor. Those efforts had no effect on the man under my desk. He prised my knees apart and slipped his hand higher. "Mr. Bingman is here for his meeting and wants to know if you'll be joining them..."

"Oh!" I hoped desperately that there was enough impatience in that exclamation to cover the surprise of a finger wriggling its way into my pussy while I talked. I threw my head back in exasperation, sliding my ass to the edge of my chair, well under my keyboard tray. "For chrissakes. Eileen can handle it. Geez." I closed my eyes for a moment, glad that my proclivity for short outbursts of temper when I'm busy is well-documented. My staff has become immune since I brighten right up immediately after venting. So my high color and chair-arm-grasping could easily be put down to a short-term snit rather than a man's face buried in my pussy under my desk. Really... who would think of that? I opened my eyes and smiled sweetly at the confused Tracy. "We're really getting some good work done, here... And I'm sure we'll be done soon. After he finishes his call," I added. Tell them to go on without me – I'll get a full update from Eileen afterward."

"Uh, ok..." She reluctantly pulled her head from the doorway and started away.

"Oh, Tracy!" Her head peeped around the doorjamb in a flash. "Close the door behind you and please make sure I'm not disturbed. Thanks!" I smiled. She smiled. The door closed and latched.

"Beast" I hissed after she'd gone, getting my hands on his ears and pulling his head away from between my legs. 

"Just making a quick call," he laughed, rubbing his cheeks against my stockings. "I think we're almost all cleaned up down here..." he handed me one last wad of damp napkins and made his way out from under. "Your skirt's all wet," he added pointlessly.

"I noticed. Thanks."

He stood up and brushed off his knees. I looked him over. How exactly could a man do what he did today and still look like he just walked out of Brooks Brothers? Pain in the ass. I reached out to swat his tight ass before he took his seat once again. 

"Ow!" He ripped open his sandwich and took an enormous bite almost before the sound was out of his mouth.

"I told you you were in for a punishment, mister." Suddenly, I was starving too. I peeled the paper from my veggie pita and dug in, surprised at how good it tasted. 

"Yes, you did." He mumbled around his turkey. "Hey, but forewarned is forearmed! It's you who got the tongue-lashing!" I threw my last remaining napkin at his head. He ducked neatly and it flew over his shoulder and hit the window. "Watch it..."

"You watch it, buster!" I laughed and wriggled my skirt back into place, rolled my chair into my desk and set about finishing the first half of my sandwich. 

"Any time, Miss. Any time." I stopped in mid-chew and looked at him. Sweet. No doubt about it. "You know, we still have lots to go over about the available services for the library..."

I sighed, knowing that my little library was totally small potatoes to this guy and his powerful company. I'd researched his online services thoroughly. I also knew that what he could do for us would extend our reach into parts of our service area that we could only dream of supplying. I pushed my notes over to him. He read in silence, chewing and making notes of his own in the margins. 

"This is totally do-able. It's a little new for us, so we'll need to work out some details, but it's exciting. I think we can do this," he said finally, dabbing the corners of his fabulous mouth with his napkin. He extended the napkin to dab the corners of my mouth too. "How is it you manage to do everything you've done today and still have your lipstick on perfectly?"

I laughed and touched the hand that held the napkin to my lips. I kissed the paper and showed it to him... no lip prints. "Industrial strength."

"I'll file that one away for future reference," he replied, his mouth curving in a most delicious way. 

Within minutes, he was back in his jacket, his tie snugged up and the leavings of our lunches were tidily disposed. I stood up. The wet spot on my skirt was drying and a glance at my office chair revealed a convenient waterspot that was explicable to the cleaning crew. I tugged on my jacket, brushed my skirt and stood for inspection.

"See anything out of place?" I turned in a circle.

"Not a hair. And by the way, I really like that." I darted a look at him and he laughed. "And me?" He turned.

"Ravishing." I stated simply, meaning every consonant.

"You." He replied. I strode around the desk to see him out. I touched his back lightly as he passed me in the door and he turned and extended his hand. "As always, Karey, it's a pleasure."

"We'll see the next phase, soon?" I gripped his hand with my right, covering it with my left.

"I'll get right to it. Hey, Eileen!" he chirped as he passed her desk.

"Hey, Greg!" Eileen blushed furiously to the roots of her graying hair.

He turned before he exited the offices. 

"What say next time at my office? I think you'd enjoy seeing the equipment." I was flabbergasted for a moment. Then I grinned. If he could carry that off, so could I.

"Sounds great! It's a date! Call me when you're ready."

He looked at his watch, looked back at me, looked at Eileen and then over his shoulder.

"Oh, we'll be ready soon enough. That's a promise."

With that, he was off. I leaned against the doorframe for a moment, thinking about what had transpired. Eileen quietly waited for me to speak. She knew I would.

"Very exciting, Eileen. Very exciting." She smiled brightly at me and held out a folder bulging with glossy flyers from the meeting she fielded for me. No real need to report. Ah. Life was good. "This could be the start of something big," I smiled and turned on my heel, opening my door all the way and dancing a little as I swung around my desk to get down to some serious work.

-end-