There you were, intruding again where you didn't belong. Behind my eyelids, and I smiled to see you there, even while part of me tried to banish you back where you belonged.

The office was cool today, the rain outdoors sucking the heat out of the rooms. A wall was being knocked out, and workmen wandered back and forth, scruffy, with over-developed biceps. I sat at my desk, watching them, when you walked into my line of sight. "Go away," I said, but I said it with a smile, and you reached around to rub tension from my shoulders.

I breathed deep, a sigh, and let my head drop. I'd just gotten my hair cut. You ran a hand over the shorn part in the back, chuckling at the prickly feeling. I dropped further into relaxation.

"C'mon," you said, and I shook my head.

"Can't," I said. You know why. It doesn't stop you from coming by, though.

Who hired you, anyway? Not that it really mattered. You were here now, and that was all that was important. You brushed a kiss over the back of my neck, bare skin, and I shivered. "Knock it off," I said, and didn't mean it. No wonder all those horrific stories of date rape. But I wanted you again. Always.

That would have been fine, except you knew it. I should have known, after all those years of understanding you, that it would keep happening when we were close. I should have known, but it didn't seem possible, not at all. Nothing is that smoothly incepted. Except you. Except us. Another kiss. "Stop it," I said, and you turned my chair around so I was facing you.

I opened my eyes. A mistake, some part of my brain warned me before I did, but it was a moment too late. Opened my eyes, looked up into your eyes. So blue. I was lost again. "Stand up," you said, and I did, slowly.

I could feel the smile starting to build on my face. Anticipatory. Sexy, I pretended, but I know my face, and there's too much laughter in my eyes when I'm excited to be really sultry. But I imagined it was, and I could feel the fire in my eyes, matched by a slow throb of dampness between my legs. All from two words. You're so good.

You looked me over, head to toe. I was wearing a dress, for some reason, a creamy lacy thing, and heels. I was almost as tall as you, in them, and could look straight into your eyes. A challenge. You grinned, and it was sexy, certain, and touched fingertips to my thigh, on top of the dress. "Nice," you observed, and rucked it up with a quick flip of your fingers, leaving your hands against my thighs.

Stockings, there. I don't know why I'd worn them. Maybe in hopes of this. Cream, like the dress, lace-topped, even a garter belt. Uncomfortable, but gorgeous. You traced one finger up the lacy elastic, ran into the band of my panties dimpling the belt. You clicked your tongue. "You shouldn't be wearing those," you whispered, and stepped back, letting my skirt fall back into place.

I took a breath, trying to calm down a little, then shook my head, and slipped the panties off. Left them beside my feet, next to the tower of my computer. "Better," you said, approvingly, and stepped forward again. Less delicately, your hands moved onto my thighs, around to grab my ass, and then one strayed front again, sliding into the wetness between my legs. I shuddered, half leaning on the desk, trying to keep balance and spread my legs for you at the same time. You tasted the fluid, then half purred. "My office," you said. "Now."

God, it felt so free, walking down the hall with the air brushing against pubic curls. It made me want to strip naked entirely, offer myself to the world. The thought made me laugh a little, and you reached forward to slap my butt lightly. "Mine," you reminded me, and the thought gave me goosebumps.

Your office was cooler yet, and I felt my nipples hardening, even covered. You closed the door, then turned to look at me again, appraising. I held my breath, feeling strangely afraid. "Oh yes," you murmured, "all mine." You came forward, fast, and grabbed me into a kiss that left me whimpering, pressing my pelvis forward towards you, asking without words for more. Instead you let me go, even though your own breathing was hard.

"The desk," you said. I leaned against it, pushing my skirt out of the way, and your hands shoved it up my body, until your hands cupped my breasts. The bra came off in seconds, dropped out the dress, and I realized my panties were in the other room. Too late now. You sucked my tits, making me pant, nearly making me come.

"Hungry for me?" you whispered, and I could barely even nod, because your fingers were between my legs again, sliding inside me and running a silken touch over my clit. I came, and you groaned, lifting your wet fingers to your mouth again.

"I can't decide," you said, "if I should fuck you naked, or leave this on you so you'll smell like sex all day long." You pulled me away from the desk, kissing me again, and I whispered that I didn't care, just take me.

"So hungry," you answered, and turned me around, lips against the back of my neck, teeth on my shoulders. "Will you let me take you from behind?" Before I answered, you bent me forward over the desk, the surface cold and hard under my burning cheek. "Don't move," you said, and I couldn't, wouldn't, have anyway. I heard you unzip your pants, felt your hands on my hips, and then you chuckled. "Oh yeah," you said softly, and took my hands in yours, folding them behind my back.

"Don't move," you ordered again, and wrapped your belt around my arms, fastening them in place. "Spread your legs. Wider." You reached between my legs, catching your fingers in curls, then pulling one finger very lightly back up to my ass. I trembled, knees almost buckling.

"Please," I whispered, and you laughed, pressing up against me. I could feel your length and width against me, but not in me, and pushed back at you. "Please," I said again, and you placed a hand oh so lightly on my hip.

"Not yet," you said. "I want you begging." Your other hand reached around me, diving into curls for my clit, and you teased me with delicate, quick motions, bringing me to an edge of need and back again with remarkable skill. My breathing came harder and rougher, until all my sound was a steady, soft whimpering, and my motions against your hands desperate.

You pushed into me without warning, and I cried out at the filling, so wanted. "Fuck me," I begged, and I could hear the grin in your voice. Fingers teased my clit again, and I orgasmed around you, hard, straining to free my arms. "Fuck me," I said again. "Oh, please, fuck me. Your hands, I want your hands on my hips, fuck me, oh fuck me."

You stayed where you were, though, quite still, hands thrilling me until I could barely stand, depending on the desk and your length in me to keep me up, and then you bent further forward over me, one hand still at my cunt, the other arm wrapping around my belly. "You want me to fuck you?" you asked, whispered in my ear, soft as sin.

"Please, oh please."

You drove into my again, so hard, stretching me with intense pleasure, hard, hard, and it was all I could do to keep from crying aloud, begging for more. Orgasms exploded through me, rippling up and down your length, and the desk under my cheek was hot and slick with sweat.

"Don't stop, oh don't stop," I said, "oh please don't." I knew you wouldn't. Not yet. It was purely animal desire, raging through both of us, and I bucked back against your weight, adding to my own pleasure and, some small part of me hoped, yours. "Fuck me fuck me fuck me, oh please fuck me."

Your hand slid away from my clit, both hands going to my hips now, and that made me cry, fighting against the belt that held me. "Let me go, please let me go, let me finish it, oh god I need it." You didn't. I knew you wouldn't. Your thrusts got stronger, more demanding, and the explosion of need centered in my clitoris just grew more powerful, no release there at all, and then you slammed into me with silent orgasm, leaving me almost in tears with unsatisfied need.

"Not done, are you?" you asked after some moments. There was a note of satisfaction in your voice, rich and teasing. I whimpered.

You withdrew from me, agony in itself, leaving my cunt gaping with desire, and turned me over on the desk, pushing my dress up around my armpits so you could lean forward and bite my nipples. I groaned, and then gasped as you slid into me again. My arms were still tied behind me, beneath me now, leaving my back arched high, and you leaned forward, simply watching my face. "Do you want me to finish you?"

"Please, oh please."

Your tongue danced around my nipples again, slow and soft, then hard, demanding, before you straightened up, simply leaning against me, your length buried in me. "Lift your legs," you ordered quietly, and I did, locking them around your hips, helplessly. The feel of you in me made my hips buck, trying for satisfaction, but you put one hand against them, holding me still.

The other slid down into curls again, finding my clit and teasing it with slow circles. "That what you want?"

"Yes," I gasped, "no. More. Please. More. Hard."

You complied, slowly letting the motions grow more urgent, and I pushed against your hand, trying to move, trying to not be hampered by my arms behind my back. "More," I begged again, and then you began fucking me again, both hands on my hips, your length in my providing the same sensations your fingers had, and when I came, fighting back the desire to scream, to my surprise you did too, again, and for an instant we were as one as two people can be.

You pulled out of me, pulled me to my feet. Untied me. "Don't," you ordered, "put your underwear back on. I'm going to fuck you again after work. I want you ready for me."

I nodded, running fingers through my hair, trying to fix it, and walked haphazardly back down to my office.

I blinked at my manager, who was talking to me. "I'm sorry," I said. "What did you say?"