- Carnal Cosplay
- SHE GETS OFF HER GIRLFRIEND FAST—IN ORDER TO SLOW HER DOWN
- THE LOCAL BAR IS THE SETTING FOR THEIR STAGED SEDUCTION
- Wild Wife
- OLD FLAME BURNS HOT, AND THIS WIFE CAN’T RESIST—MUCH TO HER HUBBY’S DELIGHT
- WIFE-WATCHING HUBBY GETS A THRILL WHEN HIS WIFE HOOKS UP WITH A SULTRY TRANSSEXUAL
- POOL CLUB PARTY TAKES AN X-RATED TURN FOR AN ADVENTUROUS WIFE
- Sex Slave on Display
- Naughty Nooner
- SHE QUENCHES HER FAVORITE CUSTOMERS’THIRST FOR A THREEWAY
- WINDOW-DRESSER LEARNS THE THRILL OF BEING ON DISPLAY
- Her Slutty Apron And High Heels Turn Her Into His Perfect Submissive
- THERE’S NOTHING LIKE A “PEARL NECKLACE” TO MAKE A GIRL FEEL SPECIAL
- BOOKWORM’S RISQUE RESEARCH LEADS TO A NIGHT OF HOT ANAL SEX
New Yorkers love a parade. Give us a reason to celebrate, and we’ll be out there with our flags and our confetti, making a ruckus. When people think “ticker-tape parade,” they usually envision pictures from the sixties—the one for John Glenn, the one for the Apollo 11. At least, I know I do. Those are the images I refer to in my mind: glorious black-and-white photos, snapshots culled from a different time. But ticker-tape parades continue to this day.
That said—I was never a die-hard sports fan. Don’t get me wrong. I am a New Yorker, so I love our teams. But I’m not the type of girl who celebrates a big win. Well, I wasn’t until the Giants won the Super Bowl.
I have a tiny view of Broadway from my office, and I could see a sliver of the Giants’ celebratory parade—and all of the ticker-tape snow. Most of my coworkers had gone to watch in person, but I decided to stay inside to get a little extra work done. I knew that the throngs of fans outside would make going out for lunch a hassle. The streets were full of rowdy people. But at least they were happy rowdy people.
Still I was hungry, so I decided to venture to the cafeteria and grab a snack to bring back to my desk. The lunchroom was almost entirely empty. In fact, there was only one other customer in the place. He looked at me as soon as I walked in, and I realized that we’d shared an elevator before but never a conversation. We’d shared more than that, although he wasn’t aware of the fact. He’d starred in a whole slew of my masturbatory fantasies. I blushed when he gave me a little wave.
There was no way for him to know that I’d spent hours imagining him fucking me—and yet I felt as if I had the sordid details written all over my face.
When I’d bought my sandwich and drink, I prepared to return to my office. The stranger stopped me. “You don’t like parades?”
“I didn’t want to get caught in the crowd,” I told him honestly.
“But you don’t mind getting caught elsewhere?”
I stared at him. He was so handsome. I’d memorized his features when we’d shared the elevator previously. He had dark blond hair cut a little long for corporate which made him look rebellious in the sea of suits I work with. Even in this day and age, most of the men keep their hair short. His eyes were espresso brown, so brown they almost looked black. He was tall and lean in his slacks and Oxford shirt, and I sensed the athletic quality of his body.
“Aren’t you a sports fan?” I asked back.
“I like to participate rather than watch,” he said. “I’m more into contact sports, myself.”
I was finding our conversation arousing. I hoped he was, as well. “Would you care to share an elevator?” I asked. “I’m going up.”
He started walking with me, and I swear he said, “I’d rather go down.”
“I think you heard what I said.”
I couldn’t get into that elevator fast enough. We were all by ourselves, riding forty floors up, and he went on his knees and pushed hard to shove my pencil skirt to my waist. Oh, God, I couldn’t believe this was me. This was at work—or almost at work. This was the middle of the day, in my office building, and a man I’d never spoken to until now had my panties dragged to the side so he could lick my pussy.
“You’re so fucking sweet,” he said when he paused for a breath. “I knew you would be.”
I pressed back against the wall, holding my sandwich and soda to my chest, eyes shut tight, as he made sweet, slippery spirals around my clit. Part of me continued to pay attention to the play-by-play, as if this sexy situation might be happening to someone else, as if I were perched on the ceiling of the elevator watching. I knew that this good-looking man was on his knees on the floor, and that his tongue was lapping up and down my juicy pussy lips. I knew I was squeezing my sandwich so tightly there might be nothing left but crumbs wrapped in crinkled cellophane when I was finished. And I knew that I was going to get off well before the bell rang to announce my floor.
How did I know that last part? Because the man snuck one finger up into my pussy while he licked and sucked directly on my clit. Then he added a second finger, overlapping the first, and began to more seriously fuck me with his hand, never stopping his ministrations to my clit.
“I’m going to come,” I whispered. I wanted him to know.
“Do it,” he urged, speaking almost directly into my pussy. “Do it quick.”
As if on cue, I came as the bell rang—Ding! Ding! Ding!—and before the doors opened, the man stood quickly and licked his lips. I struggled to pull my skirt back down, and I was so shaky as I walked out of the elevator that he gripped my arm to steady me.
“My office is this way,” I said, feeling lightheaded with lust.
“Show me,” he said, and his voice, though not trembling like mine, belied his arousal. I could see that his lips were still shiny with my gloss. I longed to kiss him, but I restrained myself. We didn’t pass anyone on the way to my office—thank God—but I actually thought that it wouldn’t have mattered if we had. I’d have just strolled on past, oblivious, all my thoughts on one thing: his cock and how I needed to feel it inside me.
When we got to my office, we entered and I locked the door behind the two of us. For a moment, we looked at each other. I didn’t know what to do first. Thankfully, the man did. He took my crushed sandwich and soda and set them down on my desk. Then he reached out a hand. I was unsure of what he wanted, and I found myself charmed when he shook my hand and said, “My name’s Rafe.”
“Hi, Rafe.” I grinned. “I’m Marlena.”
He didn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he tugged, and I came into his arms. “You’re so sweet,” he said. “You taste exactly as I imagined you would.” This was an echo of what he’d said in the elevator car. I probed him for an explanation.
“Ever since we shared the elevator that time. When I jack off, I think of ways I’d like to fuck you.”
“Like how?” I was breathless.
“Like this.” He started to strip me out of my clothes, and I stood there and let him. I was well past worrying about getting caught. There was nothing left in me to protest. All I wanted was for him to show me how he’d fantasized about fucking me. Every last way he’d ever imagined.
Maybe sometimes it’s sexy to do a slow striptease, but this wasn’t one of those times. He had my blouse off in seconds, my skirt unzipped just as quickly. I helped him undo my bra, which I tossed onto the sofa. I yanked my panties down and stepped out of them.
Once I was nude, save for my stockings, garter belt and pumps, he bent me over the desk. I pressed my cheek to the gray felt blotter and stared out the window. Somewhere out there, people were having a parade. In here, the two of us were having our own private party. I heard him unzip his fly, and then I felt the head of his cock against my pussy lips.
“I love that you’re shaved down there,” he said. “I couldn’t decide how you’d look. I was thinking drag strip, maybe. Or just a little patch. But I love how smooth you are.” He rubbed the head of his cock up and down, up and down, as if reveling in the satiny quality of my skin. He knew exactly how wet I was. He’d tasted me only minutes before. Yet he didn’t jump into the action. He took his time. I liked that.
“Did you ever wonder about me?” he asked.
I bit my lip. He’d asked me the question at the same moment he thrust inside my pussy for the first time. I was grateful to feel how big he was—big, thick, and hard.
“Did you?” he pressed.
My “yes” was a sigh.
“I felt the same way you described,” I managed to utter. “From that first time in the elevator, I always wondered what it would be like to fuck you.”
“And what is it like?” He had my hips in his big, strong hands, and he was moving his cock in and out of me at a rapid pace.
“So good.” That was another sigh. I loved the way he touched me. He was powerful, and I appreciated the need in him, the forceful way he thrust his cock deep inside me, as if intent on hammering all the way through my body. But then he slid a hand under me, searching for my clit, and that gentle movement tugged at my heart. He made it clear this wasn’t all about him. Even though I’d already gotten off once in the elevator, he didn’t act as if this was his turn, as if I were merely a receptacle for his pleasure.
A thought flickered through my head. I wanted to repay him for the way he’d treated me in the elevator. I wanted to drink from his cock the way he’d dined on my pussy. These thoughts worked to intensify the pleasure for me. I imagined sucking on his cock as he continued to fuck me and pinch my clit between his thumb and forefinger. My body responded violently. Several of the items on my desk fell off—the jar of pencils, the stapler. I smacked a hole punch with my hand and the bottom opened, spilling out the tiny colorful paper circles.
I wanted to let him know my fantasies, but I was almost too far gone to speak. I’d reached that place where my entire body was in tune with the rhythm of his thrusts. I could practically time my orgasm so that I would climax when he was deep inside me. That’s how it felt, anyway. I came more intensely than usual, trembling all over, my pussy contracting again and again on his cock as the pleasure vibrated through me. In another scenario, I might have paused to catch my breath, but lust made me lose control. After getting off a second time, I put my thoughts into actions. I pulled away from him on the desk and went down on my knees this time. There was no lurching of the elevator, no up-through-the-air sensation to add to the play. But I don’t think Rafe minded. I opened my mouth and he slid the head of his cock in, letting me taste not only my juices but also the salty flavor of his pre-come.
I relished every moment. I ran my hands along his thighs as I bobbed my head. He groaned and arched his hips. I let him fuck my mouth at his own speed, breathing in through my nose and using my tongue to caress the underside of his shaft when he slowed down long enough for me to tease him. I looked up at his face while I sucked him off, and he stroked my hair away from my forehead. His dark eyes seemed to glow. They were glazed with desire.
When he reached his limits, I shut my own eyes tight and hung on for the ride. I planned to swallow him down, but he was a gentleman to the end. He made sure I was okay, hesitating almost in mid-stride and saying, “I’m going to come.”
I mouthed the words, “Come,” around his cock and then he jerked back, thrust hard, and released. I swallowed every last drop. My eyes were watering by the end, effort streaking my mascara, but I didn’t care. He was hard again almost as soon as I’d finished swallowing. “You’re so damn gorgeous,” he said as he helped me stand up. “I can’t believe we’ve waited this long to get together.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t either. We’d both been living in fantasyland since the first time we’d caught sight of each other. Now we were acting out those naughty daydreams each one of us had enjoyed.
But what was next? Before I could ask, Rafe lifted me in his arms and brought me over to the sofa along the wall of my office. I didn’t have a second to wonder what he was going to do. He easily bent me over the arm of the couch and said, “You’ve got such a beautiful ass. I want to take you from behind again.”
I raised my hips, waiting, but he wasn’t ready yet. He leaned over me and pressed his lips to my ear. “I want to take you every way, to be honest,” he said. “I want to fuck your ass, that tight, pretty ass of yours. I want you to dress up for me, put on costumes, naughty little outfits.” He slid in then, while he was still talking. “There are so many ways I’ve wanted to fuck you. I want to make all those dreams come true.”
He’d put words to my very thoughts, but I was momentarily speechless when he asked me to do the same. As he thrust his cock into me, he said, “Tell me what you want me to do to you, Marlena . . . what you want to do to me.”
I could easily envision the different ways I’d imagined him fucking me. He’d already nailed a few of them. But I managed to say, “I want to you to bring a pair of cuffs to work and bind me down while you fuck me. You know, late at night, when nobody else is here.”
He sighed softly and ground his hips harder against my asscheeks.
“And then I want to swap and do the same to you,” I said. “Cuff your wrists and suck you off at my own pace.”
The sigh turned into a moan.
I was ready to confess my big secret. “I don’t know what it is,” I said, “but since I first saw you, I wanted to do everything I’ve ever fantasized about with a man . . . with you. There’s some chemical . . . ”
“ . . . attraction,” Rafe finished for me.
I was panting. “That’s all I could think, too,” I said. “Sometimes you connect with a person.”
“Like this,” he added, and he pulled out, lifted me up in his arms, and brought me over to the wall of windows before setting me down. If we craned our necks, we could see the parade down below. But I had no interest. I put my palms on the glass and arched my hips. Rafe teased me with the head of his cock, slipping it along my slit. My pussy seemed to reach for him, to beckon him inside, but Rafe wouldn’t be rushed.
“Show me one of your fantasies,” he said. I had the perfect one in my mind in a second. I turned around and went on my knees once more. I licked all my juices off his cock and then ducked my head and licked his balls. Then I stood and arched once more.
“Fuck me five times,” I said.
Rafe did exactly as I asked. He thrust his big, hard cock into my pussy five fierce times in a row. Before he could ask what I had in mind, I pulled off him and went on my knees again. I bobbed my head on his dick and licked the juices away once more. Rafe got the game now, and he waited for me to stand and face away from him so he could pound into me afresh.
As soon as he hit five, I bent to suck him. His cock felt as if it had gotten even bigger—if that was possible—filling my mouth, hammering at my throat. When I was ready, I stood and turned. Rafe slid his cock into me as before, but this time, he said, “Tonight, I’ll cuff you. I’ll tie you down to your bed. I will make one of your other fantasies come true.”
I thought I’d come simply from his words.
“Tomorrow, I’ll fuck your ass. Get lube for us. I’ll grease you up and take you back there.” His fingers delved between my asscheeks as he made this promise, tickling the rim of my asshole.
“What about the day after?” I whimpered. “What’s next?”
“Blindfold,” he said. “I’ll blindfold you and make you guess what I’m planning.”
I was coming—coming on his words and on his cock. Coming like I never had before. I had never felt a connection like this before—where I was not only forcibly attracted to his exterior package, but blazing hot for the fantasies that lived in his head.
“And then . . . ” I wanted more. I wanted everything.
“Oh, you’re greedy.” He was rubbing my clit, extending my climax for me. “You want me to spill all the secrets?”
I nodded my head.
“I can’t, baby. I can’t. Because every time I look at you, there are more dirty things I want to do.”
That’s what brought me to my peak. While the people down below celebrated in their own festive way, I reached the heights of pleasure and climaxed, hard and loud, in my office.
Rafe rode out my orgasm before coming again inside me, filling me up. I knew my panties would be wet all day long, but I didn’t care. That would make me think of him. I turned around to give Rafe a kiss, and he smiled at me.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
He ran his hand through my hair and then showed me the bits of hole punches he’d snagged. I looked down at the desk. The blotter was covered with the paper confetti.
“People will think you really did go to the parade,” he said.
“I don’t think I would have had a better time,” I told him.
“We definitely won’t wait for another parade to do that again,” Rafe said, and sealed that deal with a kiss.