Baxter & Jenkins

"Rose bring me the Baxter and Jenkins file please." I squirm in my chair as I hear your voice, and feel a hot blush, pink as raspberries steal over my skin. This is code and nothing to do with office business.

I head for the ladies rest room, and breathing to control my thudding heart, I remove my minuscule black lace panties.

This walk to your private office never gets easier. I remain convinced that everyone knows what I have bunched up in my hand. And that they all know me for the slut I am.

I knock at your door and enter on your call, locking it behind me. "The Baxter and Jenkins file for you Sir," I say.

You say nothing, don't even stop working. You hold out an imperious hand, and dutifully I put my damp and discarded underwear into it.

You raise them to your nose and sniff deeply. The tiniest groan escapes you, and I feel more moisture join the deluge at my centre.

You keep me standing there for five minutes that feel like centuries. Still no acknowledgement of me, save for repeated sniffs at my soaked scanties.

At last you stop and look up at me. Lust leadens your eyes and as ever, I can hardly dare to believe it's for me.

You start at my feet and drink me in from bottom to top. Feet and legs in high black pumps and the sheerest black stockings. A fifteen inch mini skirt, that shows a lot of leg and finally a fitted white shirt.

"Shirt off Rose." Your voice is low and husky. My fingers tremble as I reach to the buttons and work them free.

Beneath I'm wearing the half cup black lace bra that you asked me to wear today. My nipples are barely covered. You tell me to pinch them and as they swell, they pop out from beneath the lace.

You pat your knee and I come to your side of the desk. Between those strong thighs you're bulging and my mouth and cunt both water for it.

You pull me onto your lap. Oh! You're so damn hard. You settle me against you. We're face to face and my pussy rests against your hidden erection.

You take the peak of one breast into your mouth. A huge mouthful of soft breast, hard nipple and lace. I whimper as you draw on me ravenously. I can just see how wet and red I'll look when you're done. A wanton little whore who wants this as much as you do.

You alternate between the two, cupping my full mounds with your hands. I look like some tavern slut with a lusty client. The idea is arousing as hell and I cum, rubbing my wet slit against your heavy shaft. You growl with approval. "Mmmmm good little slut."

You get me down onto the floor and I can't stifle a giggle. You look at me with mock sternness. " Something amusing you, Rose?"

"Yes Sir," I say, still chuckling. I'm just wondering if there's a real Baxter and Jenkins, and what they'd think about our taking such liberties with their names."

You chuckle too, but it morphs into a lustful and relieved groan as I ease that gorgeous cock out of its prison

The look you give me is sexy in its intensity. It's single minded and focused on what I'm about to do.

I lick from the base of one ball right up to the head. I swap sides and alternate between them for some time. You hold my head in your hands. Not roughly, but enough to tell me you want me to stay just where I am.

I make love to the head of your cock, covering it in soft kisses and laving it with a gentle tongue. Your hips begin to thrust, so I take you inside my mouth. I keep my tongue loose, so that you can fuck my face, but my tongue can still caress you.

I can feel you getting close to exploding, and you pull out. Your swollen shaft glistens with saliva and it looks amazing. My pussy trembles wetly with fresh arousal.

You haul me to my feet and I guess that your lust has been building for a while. You clear space on your desk and shove me forwards onto the surface.

You ensure my hands are gripping the edge and the you take off your tie to bind my wrists. You slide my panties back on up to my knees, to keep my legs well open.

The room is silent except for lust laboured breathing. You're making me wait and anticipate of course. Sprawled on your huge desk my feet have left the floor. When you take me, I'll be helpless to do anything but take it.

Oh fuck. that thought is so sexy. You knew all this about me before I even realised it, the need to be taken and used this way.

I whimper as the head of your cock rubs up and down my slit. Precut mingles with my own wetness. You rumble approvingly at how ready for you I am.

"Such a fucking slut aren't you Rose?" you say, relishing the words. "Bet this insatiable cunt was wet the moment I called you."

"Yes Sir," I say. My voice is tight with need. I know what you will expect me to do, and the humiliation makes me have to stifle a moan.

"I know what you want, slut," you say. "Let me hear you beg me nicely for it."

At this point it's easy. The inner slut who wants to be pounded into this desk takes over. "Please Sir," I moan. "Please fuck your dirty slut into your desk. Treat her like the filthy cock whore she is."

I'm robbed of breath as your first thrust takes you in up the the hilt. You take me hard and relentlessly. In this position I'm completely in your power and I want nothing more than to yield up to you.

I'm always amazed at your staying power. If anything the fucking becomes faster and harder. My pelvis thumps against the desk. My naked tits are rubbed back and forth on polished wood.. What little power of thought I have, wonders if I'll be bruised, or have friction burns. Only for the most fleeting of moments though.

Most of my brain is concerned with the maelstrom of sensations assaulting my nerve endings. The beginnings of an orgasm are making themselves known. But I know better than to give in without your leave. I'm keening steadily, adrift in a rapturous trance. I'm getting closer and closer to that edge and it's harder and harder to keep back.

You know the signs, know what I need and how badly I need it. "Such a good cock whore you are, baby." you say, and I smile dreamily at the praise. "I know what you need right now. So beg for it slut."

I groan and through the delirious pleasure fog rasp out "Ohh Sir. Your slut needs to cum so very very much. Please, please, please give her your permission."

You chuckle cruelly. "More, slut," you say. "Beg me some more."

I whine like a wounded creature. All I can manage is a broken litany of "please Sir, please, please, please..." You let me go on, still slamming me into the desk without mercy. You know the moment when, with or without your say so, I am going to fall over into the chasm.

"Cum for me, slut, long and fucking loud!"

And I do. The whole office, hell the whole building, must be able to hear me screaming, howling out my ecstasy.

Frankly I couldn't give a damn right now. There's only me and you, drawing out every last drop of this nirvana you brought me to. Behind me you growl and I feel your condom clad cock spurting out your own release.

You collapse against my shivering, gasping form. You rest your warm weight on me and the desk, until you slip out of me. You stand up and dispose of the condom with your usual efficiency. Then you ease off my imprisoning panties and unfasten my hands.

You're all kindness now as you lift me up, supporting my weight in a gentle embrace. You nuzzle into my neck, softly whispering into my ear. "Such a very good girl Rose. Such a fucking hot little slut you are."

You sit me in your chair and make us both a coffee. We sit on the comfy sofa you keep here, for when you're working late. You hold me close in a comfortable silence, as we both drift back to normality.

We stand up together and you carefully straighten my clothes. I have a makeup bag stashed in your desk, and you watch as I repair the ravages from our tempestuous coupling.

You kiss my freshly lipsticked mouth and fondle my ass, before opening the door to let me out and back to my labours.

Ah well. At least I'll have another appointment with Baxter and Jenkins to look forward to.