Page 12 of Good Intentions, Vol. 1

Chapter Six

Heather

What the hell am I doing? Here I am at work, under my boss’ table with his dick in my mouth. My married boss. It’s something I dreamt about since the moment I started working here. But it’s not something I ever even considered becoming a reality. The man is married for Christ sakes. Sure, I drooled like a teenager all over the office for him. Who the hell wouldn’t? The man is walking and talking sex personified. All those muscles outlining themselves throughout his clothes, his jet-black hair always in some form of disheveled, his permanent five-o-clock-shadow adorning his face. Not to mention his cerulean blue eyes. I can’t even remember how many times I dreamt about him, about him wanting me. About him taking me. And sure, he seemed he wasn’t happy in his marriage, and if rumors were true, it was all one big scam of his wife, tricking him to marrying her, using their son to stay together. And every time I heard the whispers, I admired him more for staying with her, for trying to save his marriage, for doing everything he could to give his son a normal family. I wish I had that kind of a dad. Or a mom. The rumors went so rampant that there were whispers that they didn’t even sleep in the same bed.

Still.

Marriage was marriage.

He wasn’t available.

There was his wife that was in the way. And I was not a girl who could turn her head the other way and overlook that fact. I had values I had a moral code. I would not ever cross that line. I knew what stepping out did to a family. To a marriage. To a child. Or so I thought. Sitting here, having his dick in my mouth, not doing anything is more a turn-on than I ever imagined it would be. When I typed that shit to Erin, I never ever thought it would happen. It was just one of those things you said, not meant. And I didn’t think it would be this hot. I’m so wet, I’m almost sure I’m dripping on the carpet. Damn, if I could just put my hand in my panties. A little swirl of the tip of my finger is all that would take. Shit, if he even just blows on me, I will come on the spot. Suddenly his dick starts to come out, and I chase it as he leans back in his chair coming up to my knees. Anything, not to lose it. He doesn’t say anything just plays with the ends of my hair. How long will he keep this up? How long before I can suck?

“Stand up,” the strain in his voice makes my clit pulse. I did that.

I brought him on the verge of this magnificent pain just by being here. I half expect him to throw me out of the office as he did earlier after that mind-blowing kiss, I’m not prepared for what he does next.

Reaching under my skirt, he pushes it up, his eyes trailing his hands, all the time chanting, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He looks at me and softly says, “I’m going to fuck you now, Heather. It’s not something I should do. But God damnit, I’m going to do it.”

If he expected any protest from me, he doesn’t show any reaction when he didn’t get it. I put my hands behind me clinging to the edge of the desk. If I don’t, I’ll fall right back to my knees. I wait for another instruction of what he wants. I’ll do anything. Anything he wants, just so I can get this night from him. To maybe, hopefully give my desire a reprieve so it’ll let me breathe a little easier, and not constantly wake up in some state of arousal with the images of him from my dream still dancing behind my closed eyelids, giving me no choice but to touch myself, and scream his name in my pillow. I don’t get it the instruction, instead, I feel a sharp pain biting in my hip, and hear the sound of tearing. He ripped my panties off me.

“God,” I moan and look at him briefly before closing my eyes seeing the playful smile dancing on his lips.

With no other warning, he puts me on his desk, shoves my knees wide, and enters me in one swift move. God. The feel of him stretching me, filling me is one I never felt before. I’m lost. Doing what I never consider myself capable of, after one taste, one thrust, I know I’ll come back and beg for more. I thought it would be enough, but as he starts moving inside me, slowly at first, bringing forth the sensation of flying, I know at this moment I have become addicted to it. To him.

“Nick,” his name falls off my lips in a gasp.

“Yeah, that’s it, pretty girl,” he pants building more momentum. “Don’t come. Just a little bit more.”

I claw at his back, trying to somehow relieve the pressure building, to listen to his command and not come, but it’s pointless. His every move, every trust, brings me closer to the peak.

“Nick, please,” I beg for permission. I don’t know why. Usually, I just do what I want, not caring for consequences.

Not letting anyone dictate my every move. I had that happen to me way too much in my life. But with him, all I want to do is to make him pleased with me. If this is the punishment, he’ll give me for doing something wrong, I can’t even comprehend the reward he would give if I was good.

“Please, baby,” I gasp, trying one more time. I can’t even take a breath the pleasure and the tingles are so intense.

He pushes his hand between us, and then his finger finds my clit giving it a teasing swirl. But, it’s more than I need.

“Come, Heather,” he commands on a growl.

I don’t question it, I just let go seeing a million colors bursting in my vision, the feeling of flying intensifying, and a sweet, sweet spasm in my pussy as it grips him.

“Fuck,” he moans.

Three slow thrusts later he groans, squeezing me to him. I can feel him jerking inside me and I can’t help but moan one last time.

We breathe hard in unison for several moments, basking in the aftershocks, then in my ear he whispers, “I can’t believe after all this time of wanting, I finally have this. I finally have you.”

His words cause me to open my eyes. I don’t see the ceiling I don’t feel the afterglow anymore. I feel like I’m spiraling down. And all I can think is...