2 comments/ 31992 views/ 0 favorites The Company Ink By: greatkahn Marcus first met Christine when he was assigned under her 12 weeks ago. He started out in an ad agency in New York City as an advertisement designer and she was his editor. Being fairly young and naïve, she flirted with him to get him motivated. Her efforts backfired when his thoughts drifted back to Christine instead of his work. Secretly, she found a home in the back of his head, along with most men in the office, or at least the straight ones anyway. Everyone thought her to be quite gorgeous. Tanned, olive-colored skin graced her along with elegant black hair, soft, sweet brown eyes, and teeth made from mother of pearl. That was just the face; a classical sculptor could have crafted the body, it was so ideal. A sizeable bosom graced her along with an hourglass figure including well-proportioned hips and a supple ass. The legs could kill a man if he saw too much of them. And many of her endowments stayed with her even after she was tossed out of the modeling business. Fortunately for her, a friend brought her to the advertising business, the unseen cousin of modeling. How unfortunate for the public, they would never get to see her. Her physical beauty tempted many men, but drove Marcus to new heights. Remarkably, she asked him to drop off one of his late projects at her apartment so she could review it before the deadline. It was here that he discovered that she lived right across the street from him, her apartment being one level below his. He had an ideal opportunity to get closer to her than anyone else at the office. So he took to observing her by night. He even bought expensive binoculars from which he would observe her every action. Marcus especially relished the moments when she would dress and undress, oblivious to big brother's watchful eye and enlarging organ. She would put on a show in her mirror, tossing her hair back over her shoulders, practicing her enticing walk, while performing her coquettish laugh, for which she was renowned for and envied for at the office. She still thought she belonged on the modeling runway; the mirror was her audience. But no one at the office claimed to have conquered her, any man would be foolish to keep such an experience to himself. Could it be that she was already involved with some lucky man or woman? Marcus thought of it, but he had never seen any visitor come into her apartment, nor had he seen her leave for more than an hour at a time. By all opinions, she seemed to be something of a recluse. "Well," he thought to himself, "we'll just have to change that." An opportunity arose in his twelfth week at the advertising firm. Something her could not pass up. One night, he noticed that she had left her door unlocked when she went to bed. In his mind, he created the perfect alibi. Earlier in the day, he had to drop off another late assignment to her apartment. The guard to her building remembered him from a previous visit when he stopped to chat about... what else, but Christine? Since the guard was still on duty, Marcus would tell him that he forgot to give her part of his project, and since it was late, he would just slip it under the door. Marcus quickly grabbed some chloroform he had stashed from his college days, a present from a miscreant friend in the chemistry department, and soaked a rag with the stuff. Then he dressed himself in some discreet clothes, forgettable, but not so suspicious as a cat burglar's all-black attire. He then grabbed some gloves and a copy of his project, and he was off to climb the Mount Everest of sexy coworkers. The guard was not a problem. Even though Marcus was more nervous than the first time he had sex, he still acted believably enough to get by without delay. Then, on with the gloves and into her apartment he went. He left the papers by the door and crept into the entryway. He had a perfect map of her home in his head from the many hours of observing her from his apartment. One left turn and it was the room adjacent to the entryway. He turned the doorknob slowly, and then quietly slid his body through the narrow opening. Even though it was dark, he could still see how tastefully her apartment was decorated, something reminiscent of a Saracen palace, and she was its lovely inhabitant. Marcus moved without making a sound to her bedside. He retrieved the rag. Carefully, he held it over her nose and mouth for a few seconds and removed it. Her gentle snores turned to a hushed breathing. Success was in sight. He quickly undid his pants, opened his shirt, and slid his slender frame on top of her. Marcus pulled back the cover to find that she had done half the work for him; she was completely naked, lying on her back. Her breasts exposed and vulnerable, her manifestation of pleasure, radiated off heat between her legs. He could see how perfect she kept her body; there were no imperfections of any sort, and she had waxed a few days before. With enough time spent marveling at her body, he began the most difficult, yet rewarding part of his escapade. The gloves acted not only as a way to keep fingerprints off any surfaces, but also provided a smooth surface to caress his helpless partner. He started with the clavicle and the shoulder, slowly working his way down to her breasts. Marcus was careful to not apply too much pressure to the breast, lest he caused her pain. They filled his hand, and with his thumb, he rubbed the nipple, bringing it to a stand. He leant over her and gently began to suck the magnificent thing, He toyed with it with his tongue, bathing it until lost it's hard, statue figure, at which point, he grabbed it with his teeth. Nothing too hard, he couldn't leave any marks or bruising. He started with the outer rim, where the nipple met the normal skin, and raked it with his incisors towards the center. When he had the tiniest nub between his teeth, he gently pulled on it, lifting the skin into a cone shape. When he could go no further, he released it. It was then he realized that he still had another breast to tend to. While he cared for the neglected sibling, Marcus's right hand found her navel. With his finger pointed towards her feet, he guided his hand down her stomach and pelvis, looking for that mystifying cleft. When he found the outer folds of skin, he spread them aside, looking for the small twist of flesh in which he could manipulate. With his thumb working it, he used his middle and ring finger to enter her, and find the other spot of sensation. He kept those two fingers on her inner wall closest to him, when he noticed that his work became much easier. She unwittingly lubricated the fingers of his gloves to the point where a drip began to slide down the glove. He knew she was warmed up enough. He pulled back his fingers and thumb, applying pressure to her sensory locations as he did. With his hand free, he lapped up the excess moisture on his glove, a present of nectar from the goddess. Now it was time to make his grand entrance. Marcus thrust his enlarged organ into Christine and began the slow, methodical pumps with his hips. His manhood snugly fit into her waiting aperture. She recoiled from each thrust, with each one being more intense that the last. He even made sure to graze the sensitive parts inside of her so they would finish together. Even though his breathing labored, he moved close to Christine, his mouth hovering an inch above her neck, one hand slowly massaging her left breast until the nipple stood erect. He began to nuzzle her neck with his lips and finally kissed just below the ear. Her head tilted away from Marcus's face and secreted a slow moan of pleasure. She was waking up! How long had he been at this? How much did she realize? Should he give her more chloroform? Yes, but quickly... there wasn't much time! Marcus looked, and then reached for the rag at the nearby nightstand, but he clumsily knocked it to the floor. It was then that her hand touched his face, her palm guided his face back towards hers. Startled, he almost lost the erection, if it were not for his ultimate proximity to the amazing goddess. "Next time you do this," she said "leave the lights in your apartment off when you spy on me. I want to be really surprised." The Company Ink The question was never whether or not I thought she was gorgeous. She was, that was clear enough. From the delivery boys who would hang around a little too long as she signed for a package to the beeline that male clients would make for her when they walked in the door, it didn't seem to me that anyone in New York would have argued about her looks. So when our coworkers would tease me about flirting with her, I never had any trouble letting them know that of course I was flirting with her, how could I not? She would toss that thick black hair and arch an eyebrow in my direction and I was toast. But when they insisted that we would inevitably hook up, I would always just laugh. Amanda, another of our coworkers was especially insistent, and even told me that there was an office pool when I first started, where everyone took bets on how long it would take us to hook up. But Anna wasn't my type, and I wasn't hers. Our flirting was just the natural result in putting a male and a female 24 year old in a small office 5 days a week and expecting them to be able to think straight all the time. I, for one, always had a little trouble thinking straight around her. She was tall, nearly as tall as me in heels, and graceful; apparently she was a dancer in high school, and it wasn't hard to see why. Just walking around the office she almost seemed like she was on point, pirouetting from the kitchen to the copy room. She was always totally professional—quite a counterpoint to my constant disarray—but she always managed to sneak something a little sexy into her very dressed down work clothes. Maybe a red French lace bra peeking out of her black blouse, or sheer stockings with a seam down the back. I don't think she even meant those little bits of sexy, but they would taunt me as I tried to pry my eyes off of her. The problem with Anna was that she was uptight. To paraphrase Ferris Bueller, if you stuck a lump of coal up her ass, in a week you'd have a diamond. Her lips would purse disapprovingly when the group's conversations would take a raunchy turn, the best you could ever get out of her was a nervous little giggle and a sly look like she'd done something dirty, when all she had really done was laugh at a joke. We would always make fun of her because she rarely seemed to eat anything other than mixed green salads, sitting straight up in her chair, taking each bite daintily with her fork, wiping her full lips with her napkin as if she were sitting at an etiquette dinner lorded over by Emily Post. She never went out and drank with us, she always pulled some excuse like needing to go to the gym, so while I had plenty of chances to get naughty with the other girls in the office (which, admittedly, happened once or twice) the opportunity never arose with Anna. Between the gym and the salads and some phenomenal genes, she had one of the best bodies I had ever seen. Like I said she was tall and limber, but her back swayed down gracefully into smoothly curvy hips and a tight round ass that pouted out of her skirts constantly. Her legs were smooth and tan, probably no bigger around than my arms, balancing perfectly on tall heels. Her breasts were small but shapely, that dark hair flowing down around them when she had her blouse unbuttoned enough to see a smooth valley of cleavage, which got even sexier when she shrugged her shoulders up to laugh. Her mom was Portuguese and you could see the Mediterranean in her black hair and dark eyes, with wide red lips that curled up just a little when she talked. Suffice it to say there were some rough afternoons for me, my cock straining in my pants as I watched her climb a ladder to rearrange the stationary closet or bend over my computer when I asked for help with a spreadsheet. IT never bothered me too much though, I knew she was off limits. She had a serious long distance boyfriend in LA and I knew she was never the kind of girl to cheat, even if I had wanted to try and push it. Besides, I had plenty of girl problems of my own, and I was happy to enjoy the eye candy at work, which provided me with a little masturbation material once I got home. It wasn't a bad arrangement. Everything changed when she announced to the office that she was planning on leaving the company and going to law school in the fall. Honestly it didn't change for the better, she was almost never around, and always stressed about her upcoming LSATs. She almost never came over to my desk to flirt anymore, and even her looks were suffering, she always looked tired and washed out. It came to a head when we found her crying in her boss's office one day, while her boss was out to lunch. It was just too much, she said, the test, the applications, the stress. And one of the girls got out of her later that she had broken up with her boyfriend on top of everything else. I hardly saw her until she had taken her test, the week after she was finally back in the office regularly and seemed herself again. We went out to lunch that Friday, seven or eight of us from the office, half in celebration of Anna finishing her test, and half just for the hell of it. We went to a Mexican place around the corner in Soho, and ordered a few pitchers of margaritas to take the edge off the week. Most of the bosses were gone for the day and we liked to wind down with a little booze. To our surprise, even Anna asked for a glass and we toasted her ability to make it through the LSAT. After another pitcher or two of margaritas and endless tacos, we headed back out into the city heat, all a little grouchy that we were going to have to waste a few more hours at work before we could resume drinking. On the way back, Anna walked with me, leaning into me just a little. "I'm going to miss you guys," she said. "We'll miss you too," I said, feeling a little awkward since we hadn't really talked in weeks. "What am I going to do? Flirt with Amanda?" She giggled a little, by then the office had made a point to call us out on our flirting as much as possible. "That's no good," she said, "I guess you'll just have to make sure the replacement is cuter than me." I couldn't think of a way to tell her I wasn't sure that was possible without sounding smarmy, so I kept my mouth shut. She stumbled just a little on a curb, unusual for her perfect balance. "Oooo, shit! I must have had a little too much to drink. I'm a little out of practice, I don't think I've had a single sip of alcohol since I started studying for the test 3 months ago." She steadied herself on my arm, and smoothed down her skirt. It was unusually colorful for her, pastel green, and a little shorter and wavier than most of the things she wore. Her shirt was her signature white blouse, unbuttoned just enough to see the bow on a black lace bra as she bent forward. I caught myself looking down and felt a familiar rise in my pants as we got back to our office building. The afternoon was an eternity, we sat at our desks sweating because the building hadn't turned on our ac yet, and I could feel the alcohol in my brain slouching from a pleasant buzz to a little midafternoon hangover. I went to get a glass of fresh water and noticed Anna wasn't at her desk. I motioned to it and Amanda, who sat next to her said "OH, I think she's reading in Carol's office." Carol was the head of our company, and her office was legendary, a spacious corner office with windows facing uptown and east across to Brooklyn. She had a simple desk and a Persian carpet and a huge red couch, which was perfect for lounging in when she was out of town, and all of us competed to get in there first. The door was shut but there was a small pane of glass that gave a view inside, which I peeked in as I passed. There, crumpled on the couch, was Anna. I had never seen her so vulnerable looking, her hair fanning out around her as her hips twisted themselves to fit all the way on the couch, her blue skirt riding up almost enough for me to catch a glimpse of her panties. She must have felt my eyes on her, because she woke up with a start and saw me, motioning for me to come in. "You alive in here?" She looked bashful. "Sorry, I must have fallen asleep. Not the effect tequila has on most people, I know." I walked in and sat down, she curled her legs up to make space for me. "Well, most of the time you aren't drinking it at 2pm on a sweaty Friday, so I think it's fair." We talked for a few minutes about work and what had been going on in her job while she had been studying so hard. We fell silent for a second when Amanda popped her head in, letting us know that she was making the long trip down to the Post Office on Canal Street. We sat in silence, looking out at the midtown skyline, the curves of the Chrysler Building looking graceful above the fray below it. "I'm sorry to hear you and Andrew broke up," I said. "I know. Me too. I really loved him. But it couldn't last any longer." "How come?" She looked the other direction, out towards the Manhattan Bridge, taking her time before answering. "Well, we were just so far apart. Those cross country trips were killing me. And honestly I think I figured out that even though you can love someone who lives in California, it's hard to fuck someone who lives in California." I was stunned, I'd never heard something like that come out of her mouth, but when I looked over she was giggling and blushing a little. "That's a very good point," I said. "Anyway, once I got over it it helped me clear my head for the test. Besides, I let it give me an excuse for a few luxuries. These new shoes, for example." She swung her legs out and draped them over my lap, her shoes gleaming black leather with bright red soles. "Do you like them?" "Oh, a new pair of Loubs?" "Very gooood, I see you've been watching your Sex in the City." Now it was my turn to blush. "Yeah, my ex made me watch them all before I moved up here." "Oh, don't act like it was torture, you liked it." I laughed. "yeah, I guess I did. And now at least I know about shoes. Those are beautiful." As we talked, she left her feet in my lap and I rested my hands on her shins, slowly moving my fingers back and forth. I could hardly concentrate on the conversation, the silkiness of her legs keeping my full attention. She must have noticed, because after a little more small talk, she leaned back, scooting her ass a little closer to me, hiking up her skirt an inch or so and resting her head back on the armrest. "I think I need to close my eyes for another minute," she said. I kept running my hands over her legs, getting a little bolder and feeling them up to her knees, pressing just hard enough to indent her perfect skin. They were barely parted, her skirt draping down between her upper thighs, so I couldn't see her panties, but I felt like I could feel the heat radiating from there. I kept moving up and when I got above her knees and to her thighs, she sighed and arched her back, moving her ass closer to me again but never opening her eyes. It raised her skirt again and I could just see the crotch of a black lace pair of panties. My cock was thick against my leg now, and I was sure she could feel it through my pants as I ran both of my hands up towards the hem of her skirt. I was pressing harder now, with both of my hands massaging the tops of her thighs before brushing down towards the bottom. The sun was streaming in the window and I could just make out some downy little hairs glinting in the sun, somehow making her legs even softer. I worked my way up and her breathing started getting sparser, she was holding her breath while my hands stroked her. I pushed her skirt up further and I could see her panties, diving down from a bikini waist to a thong leading back around her ass. The fabric was just sheer enough that I could make out the top half of her slit, her lips forming a crevice that the crotch sunk into. I could feel the heat from her mound as I stroked up her pussy through her panties and she moaned softly, pushing her ass closer to me again. I snuck a finger into the side of her panties and her hot wetness felt like a shock against my finger, as warm as her legs were, it was ten times that. My finger slipped up and down her slit, and she gasped a little when it reached her clit, which was a tiny bit swollen and hard against my touch. I reached with my free hand and pulled aside her panties, revealing her gleaming petals, slick with wetness and pink with arousal. Her lips were bare, but her mound was topped by a perfectly trimmed lotus flower of pubic hair. I could smell her horniness as I slid a finger into her pussy, trying to keep as much of it uncovered by her panties as possible. My other thumb found her clit and rubbed it as I pushed in the finger slowly in rhythm. She was soaking wet and I could see her juices on my finger when I pulled it out, slippery and delicate and white. My thumb kept teasing her clit as I switched to my middle finger. Once it was slick I put them both in her, pressing her clit harder as they slid all the way in up to my knuckles. She groaned softly as I drew them in and out, her eyes finally opening and meeting mine. She looked straight at me, biting her lip, silently begging me to give her more. I picked up speed, my thumb drawing circles on her clit as my fingers curled up to press her g-spot. She closed her eyes and threw her head back, her hands moving to massage her breasts through her shirt. My fingers were fucking her harder and I brought my thumb to my mouth to taste her and get it slippery so that I could rub faster and faster. One of her legs was on the floor, one was up on my shoulder, spreading herself wide for me with her heels still on, rocking back and forth as her legs started to spasm. My cock grew harder and harder as she writhed a little, making tiny little animal noises every time my fingers hit her deep. I started to slow, but she managed to croak "don't stop," so I sped up instead, my arm aching from the effort. Her pussy got wetter and wetter, my fingers slurping as they went in and out. She picked her hips up off the couch and I felt her tighten on me. She had her head thrown back, her hair draped over the armrest when she bucked up one last time, and squealed, her pussy spasming on my fingers. I slowed down and she lowered her ass back to the couch. When I pulled my fingers out, a little stream of cum ran out of her pussy, sliding down her crotch to make a little puddle on the couch near her ass. There was no sound in the room except for both of our heavy breathing and a faint honking from the city below. She got up suddenly, striding over to the door and closing it, slipping off her shoes and her panties in one motion. "We're going to have to be quiet. Amanda should be gone for a little while but I don't want anyone coming out of their office and peeking in this window, but I need this." I nodded. She came back over and straddled me on the couch, putting her hands behind my head and drawing me into a deep kiss. I could taste her lip gloss with just a hint of the booze from earlier. Our tongues teased each other until she pulled away, reaching around to kiss my neck. My fingers found her blouse and unbuttoned a few buttons so that I could see her delicate bra, my hand snaking around behind to find the clasp. "It's in the front," she whispered in my ear. I found it under a bow right between her breasts and unhooked it, letting the cups fall to her sides. Her breasts were a shade lighter than the rest of her tan skin, but her nipples were a rich brown, with big puffy areolas that begged to be sucked. I took one of them in my mouth, teasing her nipple with my tongue while my fingers found the other. She pushed her chest into my face, burying me in the softness of her breasts and the smell of her perfume. She jumped off quickly, kneeling down to unbuckle my belt and undo my pants. My cock was aching by this point, begging to be freed, and she obliged, pulling it out of the fly of my boxers. Her fingers couldn't quite circle its girth. "I knew it would be big," she said quietly. "I've been thinking about this a lot." I would have responded but her mouth was on me, her perfect lips sliding up and down my shaft as she struggled to take me all in. I reached my hands into her thick black hair and gently pushed her further onto my cock. I thought I was going to cum right there when she stood up again, and straddled me, her skirt hiked up around her waist. She grabbed my cock with her hand to steady it and put me at the mouth of her pussy. She slowly spread her knees out, sliding down onto me. Her cunt squeezed me like I've never been squeezed before, and she had to pull off just a little a few times before pushing down again, taking me deeper and deeper. I didn't think she would be able to take me all the way in that position, but her legs spread further and further apart, showing off her flexibility. When our hips met, she pulled on my hair and looked into my eyes. "I want you," she whispered. "I want you too," I said, my voice hoarse from the intense pleasure on my cock. She started working up and down, my hands cupping her ass as I pulled myself deeper into her. We fucked slowly, hardly pulling out at all, more just gyrating our hips to rub my cock inside her, both of us overcome with the feeling of closeness, of perfection. My mouth found her chest, kissing and licking across her breasts, a tang of salt and sweat which just turned me on more. I could feel my cock getting even thicker inside her, stretching her pussy. She unbuttoned the middle buttons on my shirt and was running her hands across my chest, pressing against me for leverage to pull away before settling back down onto my cock. My mouth found her nipples again and I sucked them harder, nibbling and licking until I could feel them rock hard in my mouth on her soft breasts. She moaned a little and pulled her head back. "I need you to fuck me." I picked her up with my hands on her ass and slowly lowered her to the floor in front of the couch on the Persian rug. She laid back and I propped myself up on my arms, drawing in and out of her fully for the first time. We kissed as I picked up speed, my chest pressing against her breasts, still half out of her bra. I began to fuck her harder, stroking my hips out and pushing back in with force. She moaned and her hands laced into my hair. When I started to feel my balls tighten and the cum gather at the bottom of my shaft I lifted my torso up and picked her legs up, holding her ankles with my hands. I looked down and could see my thick shaft pulling out of her pussy, covered with her juices, and I went crazy. My hips bucked into her, my cock stretching her cunt as far as it would go. I pounded my hips in and she moaned, pinching her nipples with force. I could feel her tightening on my cock and sped up even more, drilling into her, my knees feeling the burn of the carpet even through my pants. My eyes closed and all I could see was fire as I felt my cock pound in and out, she was muffling her screams with her hand. Her pussy spasmed around my cock as the first squirt entered her, my cock spraying cum deep inside her. I kept thrusting even though it was so intense I couldn't feel my limbs, all that mattered was her pussy and pumping into it as it greedily begged for every last drop that I had. I let her legs go and collapsed down on top of her, kissing her softly with my cock softening inside her. I sat up and slid out of her, my cum leaving a trail along her leg. We both stood up. She coaxed her breasts back into her bra and clasped it, I buttoned my shirt and tried to get what was left of my hardness back into my boxers. She laid back on the floor as I buttoned my pants and wiped the sweat off my brow. "How do I look?" I asked.