24 comments/ 300100 views/ 16 favorites Midnight Play By: asian_princess It's hot. You take advantage of her getting hotter and hotter. She wants to take you and make you sweat. * * * * * Click Here to listen. (12 min/RealMedia) You need Real Player to listen to this file. * * * * * Midnight Pleasures "This report is going to drive me nuts," she thinks to herself. "Maybe I just need a break," she says out loud, her voice echoing in the empty office. She leans back in her chair and puts her feet up on her desk after kicking off her shoes. Her eyes slide shut as she slowly starts to relax her body. Working from her feet, she takes deep breaths as she relaxes the muscles of her body. She lets her mind clear of work and just lets thoughts float through her head. She goes over her day, thinking it was a productive day, except for the report she is working on now. But not wanting to think about the report she pushes that thought from her mind and thinks about lunchtime. She blushes as she thinks about what she bought over the lunch hour. "No," she says to herself. "I'm not going to be embarrassed." The more she thinks about it, the more frustrated she becomes. "Ok, no more thinking about it. It's not helping me get relaxed. Although, maybe if I used it, I wouldn't be so frustrated and I'd be able to get this report finished." She continues to debate with herself - could she do it? Should she do it? The office was empty and it was after midnight. The cleaning crew had left hours ago and it wasn't likely anybody was going to come to the office at that time of night. Without putting her feet down she leans over the arm of her chair and reaches for her bag, fumbling with it until her hand reaches the bag from the store. She pulls it out and sets it in her lap, still undecided. Reaching into the bag, she pulls out the package and stares at it. She puts it on the desk, still debating her decision. She closes her eyes once again and tries to picture herself some place warm, maybe a beach. As her fantasy continues to flit through her mind, she undoes the buttons of her shirt, parting it. She slides one hand over her stomach the other slipping down over her hip to her thigh. She very lightly brushes her hand over her breast, the other hand trailing a line up over her thigh and skirt and then back down. As her hand brushes over her breast again, she can feel her nipple bead against the lace of her bra. Her right hand dips under her skirt slightly and caresses over her bare thigh. She pushes it up with her wrist as she continues to move her hand over her legs, lightly skimming her fingertips over her thighs. She passes her thumb over the nipple of her breast, cupping it in her hand and squeezing it gently, yet firmly. She can feel her nipple harden against her palm and she gives a sigh of pleasure. She parts her thighs, letting one leg drop to the floor. She continues to stroke over the satin skin of her inner thighs, moving closer and closer in small circles to her pussy, but not yet touching it. She hears a small noise and stops to listen, cocking her head to the side. She listens for a couple of minutes but hearing nothing, she shrugs and continues her explorations. Her hand continues to skim her thighs, her other hand moving from one breast to the other. With a flick of her wrist she opens the clasp on her front-closing bra and pushes it aside. She pushes up her skirt to around her waist and strokes a finger down the center of her lace panties. Working her way lower, down over her pussy, feeling her panties dampening. She rubs her finger up and down her pussy, her breathing coming a little faster as she gets more excited. Her fantasy continues to play out in her mind, the warm sand, the breeze blowing over her skin. She squirms in her chair and wiggles out of her panties, letting them drop to the floor. She settles herself comfortably in her chair again. Her right hand slides from her breast down over her stomach and navel, lower, lower. She uses two fingers to stroke across her outer lips. She gasps at the sensations, panting lightly now, oblivious to her surroundings. She continues to move her fingers over her pussy, feeling how hot she is, how wet she is. Slowly circling her fingers round and round her pussy, she drags one finger up and over her clit. She gasps and arches slightly in her chair. She removes her hand from her breast and reaches for her new toy, patting at the desk to find it. She picks it up from the desk and transfers it to her right hand. With a twist she turns it on and a low humming sound fills the room. In her mind's eye, she sees herself on the beach, her dream man beside her, pleasuring her in every way imaginable. She keeps her eyes tightly closed as she starts to move her toy over her stomach. Circling her belly button. Moving lower, lower, she passes it over her pussy lightly, up and down her lips. She moves it slightly and passes it over her clit. A low moan escapes her lips as she tilts her hips. Again and again she circles the small vibrator over her clit. As she squirms in her chair, she can feel herself dripping onto the chair, she is so wet. As she feels her body starting to tense, her thighs trembling, she slowly opens her eyes. Taking a moment to focus she glances over to the doorway. Her eyes get wide as she sees him standing in the doorway, looking very male, very real, and very, very aroused. She lets out a squeak of surprise. She has seen him around the office, thought he was a doll, but would never approach him, thinking he would never go for her. He would go for the sophisticated type. The calm, cool, think-through-your-actions type. She was too flighty, too fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants type, too earthy to be considered sophisticated. She smiles a very seductive smile, licks her lips and beckons him to enter the office. Now it's his turn to be surprised. He thought for sure she would send him packing and with a good slap to the face too boot. He quickly steps into the office and walks to her desk before she can change her mind. He mutters quietly "Please, don't let me interrupt you, continue." She smiles up at him and replies, "There is just a little something I have to do first." She reaches out her hand and opens the button of his pants, tugging the zipper down slowly, feeling his cock straining against her fingers. She reaches for his pants and tugs them down, along with his boxers. He moans low as the materials drags along his cock, creating heat, friction. Reaching out her hand, she wraps it around him, stroking up and down lightly. She can hear his breathing picking up, his pulse racing. She throws her leg back up onto her desk, picks up her toy, looks him in the eyes. "NOW, I'm ready to continue." She hears him growl as she closes her eyes again as she circles her pussy with the vibrator again, slowly at first, very lightly. She strokes his cock with her hand at the same pace. She leans to the side and braces her elbow on the arm of her chair. She gives a little tug and he takes a step closer. She peeks at him from under her lashes and gives another tug. He takes another step. Leaning her weight on her arm and side, she turns her head and opens her mouth. She moves her head and takes his cock into her mouth. She peeks up at him as she moves her mouth, lips and tongue over him. He is standing rigid, his hands made into fists at his sides, his eyes closed, head thrown back. She starts to suck on his hard cock as she moves the vibrator over and over her clit, getting more and more excited, wetter, hotter. She peeks at him again, feeling his eyes on her, caressing her. He is watching her. He reaches out with one finger and circles her nipple with it. Her moan encourages him. He takes his thumb and finger and squeezes her nipple between them. She moans louder and sucks on his cock harder, faster. She presses the vibrator harder against her clit. Moving it down slightly, she slips it into her pussy, in, out, in, out. She feels her muscles tensing, his cock throbbing in her mouth, hot, hard. He takes a deep breath and steps back, his cock pulling out of her mouth with a little pop. He grins down at her. Looking into his eyes, she stands up and sits on the edge of the desk. She takes her toy and turns it off, tossing it onto her chair. He takes one finger and pushes lightly on her chest. She lies back on the desk. He braces his arms on the desk on either side of her. She places her legs on his shoulders. She tips her hips up and in response to her unspoken request, presses his head at the opening of her pussy. He flexes his hips once and his head slides inside her. She tries to move her hips to take him in deeper, but he pulls back slightly. He flexes again and slides in deeper, pulls back again, forward a little deeper, pulls back, forward again deeper. With a final thrust of his hips he buries his cock deep into her pussy. Her hands clutch at his arms, her nails making ridges in his skin. He starts to thrust in and out at a slow but steady pace, her hips moving to his rhythm. He leans down, bending her legs back toward her shoulders, pushing himself deeper still. He opens his mouth wide and takes her breast in his mouth, sucking at her nipple. She arches her back, pushing her breast deeper into his mouth. He starts to thrust harder and faster, his hips slamming into hers. She rocks her hips as she gasps for breath. He pulls back slightly and as they gaze at each other, he thrusts harder, faster, picking up the pace. She feels her whole body start to go rigid. He lifts one hand and draws his thumb over her clit again and again. She arches her back, throws her head back and screams as her orgasm slams through her, spasm on top of spasm. Feeling her contracting around his cock, he yells as he cums deep inside her, continuing to thrust in and out until her feels her muscles start to relax and he is completely spent. He drops to his elbows over her and lightly kisses her neck. She sighs as he raises himself, resettles his clothes and giving her a wink, starts to walk out of her office. Just before he walks out the door she says, "You know if you could do that every day, I wouldn't need my toy." He laughs as he walks out the door, leaving her at her desk chuckling. She dresses herself and finishes her report. The next morning as he is walking down the hall with some co-workers, she walks out of her office and right into his arms. He automatically wraps them around her waist to steady her. He gives her that little smile that says, "We have a secret" and sets her back from him. She smiles as she looks into his eyes and then glances down at her watch. "Oh my goodness, look at the time. If I don't hurry, I'll have to stay late again tonight, and then I might just need a vibe to keep myself awake." She gives him a saucy wink as she saunters off down the hall, giggling. He watches her walk away when one of his co-workers asks, "What was that all about? Ms. Mouse actually spoke." He replies with a shrug and a glance at his own watch. "Haven't a clue." He continues down the hall to his own office, thoughts of later that night flashing in his head. Midnight Plush It was that short moment of evening when the sky glows like a blue jewel and if you don't stop what you are doing and enjoy it, you miss it. She could see it through the windowpanes, and she cocked her head toward them, stopping the conversation. "You see that, the color of the sky? I love it when it looks like that. It's so..." she searched for a word, "...peaceful." "Refracted sunlight has an emotional effect," he said, looking interested. She smiled widely. That was Isaac, always analyzing everything. Except the one thing he should have been analyzing the most: himself. He never understood the dark forces that drove him, and he had sublimated so much of himself that he wasn't aware he even had any emotions. But she was. And she loved him. And she suspected he loved her, or would have if he could only breach the fort he had built around himself. Initially it had been a meeting of minds. She was introverted, her personality coagulated around ideas rather than experiences. So when they had met at a party, after painfully introducing themselves, it had been a shock that they had so much to talk about, so much in common. Soon Wallflower Amy and Antisocial Isaac had retreated from the commotion--together. They talked for hours, the kind of fast, fascinated talk most people reserved for gossip. About everything from viruses to theology to whether Macs were better than PCs. They did the same at the next party, and the next, until finally Shy Isaac got up the courage to ask Amy the Brain out. Now they were together constantly, and connected more and more tightly. Except in the physical sense. They had had talks that she could only classify as intimate, but Isaac had never even held her hand, and she was pretty sure he was clueless about physical affection. She, however, was not. There had been one long-term relationship, a nice love, that had ended when the guy had gotten a job the whole way across the country. He'd not been her intellectual equal, but he was a good man and a good lover. Now her mind was happy, but her body was in overdrive demanding sex--demanding Isaac. She swallowed. They were in the living room, her sitting on the sofa, him in a chair pulled up opposite her so they could talk face to face. Now how am I going to do this? she thought. Seduce a guy whose body is just a carrying case for his brain? She could ruin everything if she freaked him out. But...she could also unleash him, and liberate a love that would make Antony and Cleopatra look like Beavis and Butthead. "Everything has an emotional impact," she said finally. "And now it's almost dark, and that has an emotional charge as well." "How?" he said. His face was half-silhouette now, lit only by the small lamp in the corner of the room. But he was leaning toward her, interested. She drew a breath. "Velvet darkness," she said, making her voice smooth and mysterious. "Midnight plush. You see how intimate it sounds?" Was it her imagination, or did his face flush? Briefly his eyes fluttered down; then he dared to look into hers. His lips opened a little and then he murmured, "Yes, I see." So there was just one little crack in the wall of the fort. "Do you feel it?" "What?" "The intimacy." "Er...yes." Again his eyes fluttered down. The cushions rustled as she slid toward him. "I do too," she said. "I...ah..." his mind was stuck in some kind of Mobius strip, or else it was trying to force a new pathway. She waited to see which it was, and then he moved his hand forward and lay his fingers against hers. She was stunned at how intense the shock of pleasure was, just at this one simple movement. True, she hadn't made love in a while, but this was more than that. It was different now because Isaac was her mate. There could be no other man, because no other man was like him. He was looking at her with deep concentration, and she could guess that realizing she was his mate too was taking some time to synthesize. Or maybe it was more. Finally he said, in an aching voice, "I know nothing about this." "About sex, you mean?" she said, twining her fingers with his. He nodded, looking unhappy. "Well, then, we'll learn together." "But you have already..." "Yes." "Then how will I..." "You will. Trust me. You're a man, and it comes naturally." I scored big points calling him a man! Gently she lay her free hand on his knee. His body was quaking, and even in the low light she could see he was already hard. So, slowly, she slid her hand up his thigh, till she had her prize. He startled slightly, and exhaled a shaky breath, eyes closing. She ran her palm over him, feeling him swelling, lengthening, and he opened up to her. She switched to just her fingertips and dragged them along the length of him, and he pressed forward into her touch. "Do you like that?" "Mmhhf." "I like it too. I like touching you." "Aaahh." His eyes were heavy with desire, burning, his lips open and flushed, body pushed toward her, hands gripping the chair legs. "Do you want more?" He nodded. "Then why don't you kiss me." She could see nervousness and excitement duking it out in his mind; then excitement won and he caught her by the waist and pulled, and she came willingly into his lap. "I don't know how to do this," he whispered. "It doesn't matter." Inspiration smiled on her again. "I don't want the kiss just because it's a kiss. I want it because it's your kiss." "Oh," he said, and slowly, timidly almost, approached her face with his. His nose slid alongside hers, and then his lips onto hers. She wanted to devour him, but she willed herself to let him take the lead, only coaching him subtly, parting her lips under his and then reconnecting, till he found the rhythm and lost some of his restraint. Her lips burned as he kissed her from side to side, trying to get the most contact he could, their breath mingling between them. Finally he drew back a little, and she ran her fingers down his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble. His arms were around her, fingers splayed out across her back. "Do you want more," he said softly. "Yes." He shifted his hips a little, nestling his erection right where it should be. She was wet already; now she tightened as a stab of pleasure coursed through her pelvis. He kissed her again, this time with no hesitation, exploring her lips until she opened them and his tongue flicked out. She raised the tip of her tongue to his, and at the texture her nipples tightened, all her veins seemed to constrict. It was just the tips of their tongues, the masculine smell of him filling her nose, his hands now running up and down her back. His chest was rising and falling quickly, his hips rocking under her, and finally he blurted out, "Oh God, I can't wait any more!" He picked her up like she was a feather and wheeled her through the door and to the bed. There was going to be no thinking now, only the essence of man and woman loving each other. He flayed off his clothes in a mad whirl of limbs, and she didn't care if there was a lack of romantic undressing; she was beyond that anyway, so she pulled her own clothing off and then Isaac grabbed her and they tumbled onto the bed. It was almost as if it were new to her, the feeling of another's skin; she ran her hands over him, acquainting herself with the contours of his body, feeling him begin to take her over. "I'm sorry--I can't wait--" he gasped, and quickly she guided him, rising up into him as he pushed down into her. "Uhhh," he moaned, unable to form even one cogent word. It was like lightning ricocheting inside his body, leaving him weak and tense at the same time. Somehow his body knew what to do, and he began to move, finding the right rhythm, feeling her following beneath him. What he wanted to say was: Oh God, I love you so much, I need you, never leave me, but his tongue was suddenly five inches thick and all he could do was mutter over and over, "Oh God, oh God, oh God." It was a delirium, a mania, so that he could only think in pictures, and the pictures were: the pressure of their skins together, the wet tightness of her around him, her closed-eyed face with lips open in pleasure--pleasure that he was giving her. She had her hands on his hips, feeling the muscles flex over and over as he gave her the whole length of him again and again. She could hear him breathing faster, felt him moving faster, knew he wouldn't last much longer; and then he bucked and screamed, and she felt him pulse inside her, shuddering. "Stay right there--" she said, and moved a few more times against him, till her own body dissolved and then shattered, and she rocked upward, whispering his name. He came down beside her and she nuzzled into his shoulder. He slid his arm under her neck, looking over at her--his lover, his mate. He shouldn't have to ask, he thought, but the question was pressing against his mouth with the force of a tide. "Did I do well?" She smiled. Several wisecracking replies presented themselves, but she knew that wasn't what he wanted to hear. So she simply said, "Yes, you did." He wanted to respond, but his eyes were sliding closed, his thoughts becoming disjointed, and he drifted off to sleep. A few minutes later he woke up. She was still lying along him, not sleeping but just relaxing. He jogged her slightly, and she draped her leg across his abdomen. The agony of another question. The moment of truth. "Amy." "Hmm?" "I--well, er..." Oh, just say it! "Will you, would you, marry me?" She sat up, gasped. "If you want to, I mean." Please say yes! I can't live without you! "Oh, do I ever want to! Yes!" ]]**[[ They lay silently together, with no need for words. She looked at him. Isaac's hair had gone gray, and two pregnancies had taken a toll on her body, but that was the way it was supposed to be, wasn't it? Growing old together, growing into each other. She ran her hand across his now slightly convex belly. "That tickles." She giggled. "Are you trying to tell me something?" He rolled over, half on top of her. "Shh, you'll wake up the kids." He sighed and smiled. "Well, given that they exist, I think they know what we've been doing all these years." "I've never heard you complain." "Who would be that crazy?" He kissed along her cheek, to her ear--he knew what that did to her. Now his breath in her ear: "Because I love you, lady." "Oh, you're the man." "Fifteen years of practice." Now he slid himself over her, and she gave in. The kids were asleep, and her body was awake, still demanding Isaac. She came up to him as he came down to her, and the circle they had created was sealed again.