After Hours (closed)

L

Lustful_Intentions

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"Fifty to sixty minutes? Are you sure? Well, alright then."

Richard Greyson flipped the handset back into it's setting on his desk. An hour to deliver some mediocre pad thai? Such was life working in Chicago's financial district, just off the Loop. Even at 7:30 PM, the wait to be fed was significant.

He slumped back into his chair and sighed, running a hand across his forehead, kneading it, slightly ruffling his short, dark hair in the process.

The Director of Business Development for Feldman & Washburne, a consulting firm specializing in rescuing distressed financial services firms from their own incompetence, loosened his navy tie, letting it hang more loosely around his neck. The wake of the financial crisis had been great for his firm, bad for his sleeping habits. Herding the cats, as it were, to present F&Ws services to daft bank executives was an exhausting endeavor.

Even so, this was a late night in the office for a Thursday. He looked out over the rows of cubicles-the place had been empty for the better part of an hour and half as even the most junior, eager-to-impress folks had long shuffled off for the evening. His receptionist, the kindly Sharon, had taken off at 5 to pick up her kids.

As was common, Richard had the place to himself, for whatever that might be worth. Twelve stories up from the street, it was peaceful at least.

He took a sip of water from the half-crumpled bottle on his desk and let out another deep breath. A gin and tonic would have been much better at this point. There was still work to do, for sure, but he needed a little time to unwind before his meal arrived. He'd been going strong since 6:30 AM, and his brain needed a break from figures, cost-benefit analyses and the like.

Lazily, he reached down and pulled his iPad from his bag. It was his personal tablet, on his own 4G plan. He was a company man through and through, but even still, wanted privacy to make plans, read emails, etc, when at work. At least, as much privacy as he could get in his office with the large dual windows.

He swiped his finger and brought the tablet to life. Drumming his fingers over the surface, he decided that he deserved a real break, and brought up one of his favorite sites. Yes, he deserved to unwind a bit.
 
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Emilia Tressler pushed the strands of her long, dark brown hair out of her face ad attempted, unsuccessfully, to push them back into the pins that held the rest of her hair back. She was fresh out of the shower after a particularly satisfying hour at the gym. Emilia was a junior analyst at Feldman & Washburne and, while it was practically her dream job out of university, it meant long, stressful work days. She loved going to the gym after work to unwind so, perhaps unsurprisingly, she had a lovely, fit figure.

She was walking across the parking lot, searching her purse for her phone. "Damn it!" she cursed under her breath. She'd checked everywhere in her purse three of four times, and was starting to think she had left it in the office. She got into the car, frowning. She was dressed in yoga pants and a tank-top, not exactly work appropriate attire, but who would be at the office so late, anyway? She could easily slip in, grab her phone, and slip out again, with no one the wiser.

Nodding resolutely to herself, she shifted her car into drive and made her way back to the office. Just as she had figured, the underground parking lot was practically empty. There were a few cars, but she wrote them off as belonging to janitorial staff without a second glance.

Inside, she took the elevator up to the twelfth floor and found most of the lights in the office off. She smiled - no one was there, just as she'd thought. She crept across the office floor, making a beeline for her desk, when she spotted movement in one of the corner offices. She froze, surprised, and hoped that whoever was there hadn't seen her, thanking God that someone had turned the main floor lights off, which at least granted her the cover of shadow.
 
It only took a minute for Richard to find something that appealed to him. A simple, straight forward girl-girl scene involving a fit, comely brunette and a curvier, more hour-glass shaped redhead came to life before him on the small screen.

It started out slowly enough, two girls in tank tops and panties sitting on a couch. Slowly, their lips met, parting as they embraced. The redhead moved her hands along the brunette's thighs, rubbing gently.

Rubbing gently. That's where Richard was at this point. Mindful of the clock and the fact that his work schedule had kept from from much of a social life, it took very little time before he'd turned his back to the windows overlooking the floor and faced toward the outside windows. He leaned back, unbuckling his belt. The light from his desktop monitor illuminated the back of his head.

As the brunette lifted her shirt over her head, exposing firm, rounded orbs, he unhooked his pants and drew down the zipper. Left hand cradling the tablet, he lifted his hips slightly, allowing his right hand to draw his pants and boxer briefs just past his hips.

The women on screen were working much faster than Richard. The redhead had stripped herself to the waist without much hesitation and began the act of peeling the tiny pink thong from around the brunette's hips. Two of the redhead's fingers had already found their way inside her partner's already dampened slit by the time his hand had found his cock.

Slowly, he closed his right hand around it, passing forth a deep breath. Sliding up and down his shaft, squeezing slightly near the head, he gently aroused himself. The volume from the video was low, but he could still hear the muffled groans of the brunette as she laid her head back in ecstasy, pushing her hips against red's fingers. She was gorgeous-beautiful, lithe and wanton.

Richard licked his lips, his thumb scraping at the pre-cum that dotted the head of his cock, smearing it down the sides, lubricating himself. His pace increased slightly, but not significantly. He was enjoying this-the quiet, the girls on screen and his own hand.

He was off in a different place, fully unaware that the office was no longer empty.
 
Emilia straightened, feeling ridiculous when she realized that she had half-crouched when she noticed she wasn't alone in the office. She shifted, stepping partway into her cubicle, ready to duck down behind the wall so she could find her phone and then escape without being noticed.

The office belonged to Mr Greyson, one of the directors. She hasn't been able to see anything but his shoulder before she stepped into the cubicle, so all she had been able to tell was that he was facing away from the door. When she took the step to the side, however, she caught sight of his tilted back head, the tablet in his hand with what was unmistakably porn playing on it, and the tell-tale movement of his arm. He was touching himself!

Emilia felt a blush rising on her cheeks and heat between her thighs. She was watching her boss jerk off! Mr Greyson was attractive, no doubt about it, and the taboo of the whole situation made her feel very dirty and very turned on.

She ducked her head down below the cubicle wall and collected her phone. "Oh god," she murmured to herself, her heart beating out of her chest. "I definitely shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be watching that!"

And yet, she couldn't help but peek back up over the cubicle wall at him, biting her lip as she imagined what it would look like if he just turned around a little so she could see him, his hand on his hard cock...

She blushed and shut her eyes, berating herself. But then, it was dark in the office, and she was mostly hidden behind the cubicle wall. It was so unlikely that she would be caught. And she could claim innocence, say she hasn't seen anything if he did somehoe notice her. It would be fine, right?
 
Richard had been at it for only a few minutes, his hand now moving in rhythm along the length of his shaft. As the redhead on screen bent down to push her tongue against the brunette's waiting slit, he felt building towards climax just a bit more. He'd been managing his pace, thoroughly enjoying the combination of the images before him and the touch of his hand.

He was massaging the tip, gently coaxing it as the redhead dipped a hand between her own legs, pushing aside her panties. That's not what caught Richard's eye, though.

Just in his peripheral, he caught a sliver of movement in the reflection off the exterior window. It was hard to see, but it was unmistakable that it was a movement of some kind. He was quite focused on his own pleasure, but his mind couldn't dismiss what his senses had picked up.

Sliding his hand along the side of the tablet, he muted the sound. It was then that he heard the faint sound of a drawer opening and closing. At that point, he knew he wasn't alone. The sound of the drawer told him it wasn't the janitorial staff, either. For one, they didn't come on until after 10PM, and for two, they knew full well what happened if they touched the desk drawers of any staff member, no matter where they sat on an org chart.

The entirety of the realization happened so quickly that he'd not had time to process it. In fact, his startled reaction to turn around, still grasping at himself, iPad in hand, came before the moment it occurred that there was another person on the floor.

He thought he saw the top of a head disappear behind a wall in the second row, but with the lights out across the cubicle filled floor, it was impossible to tell.

So there was Richard Greyson, 35, Director, caught quite literally with his pants down.

This entire sequence happened in a matter of seconds, but felt like a lifetime as he dropped the iPad on his desk with a loud bang and moved to lift up and hoist his pants over his hips. With his rigid erection, however, this required him to stand just a little bit, exposing himself fully.

Hastily, he managed to zip up, leaving the belt unbuckled, shirt untucked as he made his away around the desk. Clumsily, he pushed open the large, glass door to his office and called out into the darkness, "Hello? Is someone here?".
 
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Emilia's eyes went wide as Mr Grayson turned around and stood, revealing his erection for a moment before he pulled his pants up. He moved toward the office door and she dropped back down below the cubicle wall. She heard him call out, asking if someone is there. She gasped, pressing her hands over her mouth to muffle the sound.

Should she reveal herself and pretend that she hadn't seen anything? But it would be difficult to convince him that she hasn't seen anything "inappropriate" and who knew how he would react? He could fire her for something like this! She kept her hands over her mouth and listened hard, waiting to see if he would come out and look for her.

Dropping silently down to her knees, she tried to make herself as small as possible, as if it would somehow make her more hidden. She drew in another ragged breath, muffled by her fingers, as she squeezed her legs together. Her body reacted easily to the danger of the situation, and she could tell she was growing wet. She desperately wished he would go back into his office and return to his self-pleasure, though she wasn't entirely certain if that was so she could leave or so she could keep watching.
 
Richard's call brought no response. He took a beep breath, holding it for a moment, then letting it go with a long exhale.

He stood at the threshold of his office, debating. It was almost a surety that he'd heard something-did he investigate it? Or let it go? Offices down on the 8th floor had been robbed two weeks ago, mostly smash and grab, looking for unsecured laptops and unlocked desk drawers.

Quietly, he secured his belt, leaving it loose but in place.

He stepped out to the first row of cubicles, glancing down the row. He called out again "Hello? Is anyone here?". Nothing. He moved slowly now, breath catching in his throat slightly-if it was someone robbing the office, was confronting them the best decision?

At the second row of cubicles, he stopped again, peering down them. He caught what appeared to be the outline of a posterior and a wisp of hair-the cubes were relatively narrow, after all.

Again-"Hello? Who's there? Come out and show yourself, or I'm calling security." His voice had found it's normal, authoritative tone. His erection was still semi-stiff in his pants-the entire series of movements had taken less than 30 seconds.

He started to make his way down the aisle, his shirt still half-untucked, again imploring the shadowed figure to show itself.
 
Emilia frowned when she hear his footsteps coming closer. He called put again, this time threatening to call security. She took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut to steel her nerves, and stepped out from behind the cubicle.

"M-Mr Grayson," she greeted breathlessly, nodding her head. She couldn't bring her eyes up to meet his gaze so she kept staring at the floor. "I, um, I forgot my phone, s-so I came back in to grab it..."

She kept her head down, her face burning with a blush, but she lifted her gaze as far as his clothes. He'd put himself more together, but still looked disheveled. Her body betrayed her; she felt herself growing wetter as the image of his hardened cock flashed through her mind again.

"I'm sorry sir, I should... I should..." She was trying to say that she should leave, but her voice died and she fell into silence, still blushing furiously.
 
He stood over her as she stammered, her voice trailing off. His own mind bounced between the fear that he'd been caught and the realization that if, so, he needed to manage the damage.

In the meantime, he needed to figure out what to do with the interloper, factoring in that she was an employee of the firm. He recognized her, she was one of Lucas's staffers, though that realization took a moment. She was typically dressed for the office, and demurely so at that. Even processing that, her name escaped him. She was three levels or more down on the org chart, after all.

So, he cheated, glancing at the nameplate on the wall of her cubicle. Her eyes were still averted, giving him the clearance he needed to do this. The sight of this freshly-showered, slightly disheveled brunette crouching at his feet sent a rush of blood back in the direction of his groin. Feeling himself start to bulge, pressing against the front of his pants, he managed to find words.

"Emilia, right? It's okay. Here, stand up. How long have you been out here?"

He hoped his question would give him some clue as to if he'd been caught, or if she'd really just walked in, grabbed her phone, and tried to sneak out.
 
Emilia swallowed hard, hoping she could be convincing. "I, uh, n-not long, sir," she answered quietly.

She straightened up but still didn't raised her eyes - she saw the bulge in his pants and drew in a sharp breath, averting her eyes. "Just long enough to get my phone. I was just... just leaving," she stammered.

She pressed her thighs tight together, feeling more ashamed at herself for putting herself in this situation by peeking at her boss while he was masturbating. And worse, at how much the entire situation was turning her on.

Her skill at deception was sadly lacking. She was certain he wasn't convinced that she hasn't seen anything. Was this going to mean the end of her job? Or would he be willing to play along and pretend like he hasn't been doing anything to see? She seriously hoped it would be the latter. Getting fired so abruptly at the beginning of her career was a death sentence for any other job prospects in the industry, she was sure.
 
Richard stepped back slightly, giving Emilia room to raise herself up. Her words brought him some relief. Perhaps, between the darkness of the office and her quick entrance and exit, she hadn't noticed a thing. Though he had authority over her, that would still be ideal.

As she stammered through her words, he heard the word 'leaving'. Yes, that would be perfect-she would exit, never speak of what she may or may not have witnessed. Asking her about it would only raise suspicion, so he needed to avoid that tactic.

When she raised up, Richard could not help but notice the hint of her nipples outlined in her tank top. The air conditioning had been cranked up in the building, but he couldn't help but think that this confirmed his suspicion that she'd seen him. That coupled with her averted eyes almost fully confirmed that he'd been caught, but this girl was too shy to acknowledge it.

Her leaving, especially in this state, would leave Richard unknowing as to how she would handle the situation. He had to secure her silence, somehow. Besides, fairly or not, this attractive, fit young woman before him was only inches away from an only partially-concealed erection, leading him to make the following offer-

"Emilia-it's okay, really. You're allowed to be here anytime-you're a staff member. Look-it's late, I've got food on the way, you certainly don't seem as though you've had a chance to eat dinner yet. I could use some eyes on the presentation for tomorrow, and I know your team put together the numbers. Would you mind sparing me a few minutes?"

He knew she wouldn't say no-couldn't even. He feared the presentation excuse would be seen for what it was, a ruse. That was a secondary concern. First, he had to find out what Emilia had seen, and how to get her to keep it to herself.
 
Emilia finally lifted her gaze to his, looking shocked. Why on Earth was he inviting her into his office given what he had just been doing? Did this mean that he believed she hadn't seen anything?!

Either way, she wasn't about to say no to him. She nodded meekly. "Oh yes. Of course." She glanced toward his open office door, waiting for him to lead the way. She followed him with her eyes cast down at the floor. She was nervous as hell. How was she going to live through this impromptu meeting, especially given that her mind refused to stop thinking about him stroking his cock in that very same room!

She sat down in a free chair, crossing her legs tightly and trying to pretend like she was comfortable. It was not an easy act - she was simultaneously incredibly turned on and incredibly nervous. "So, um, what did you want me to look at?" She was impressed at the fact that her voice remained mostly steady.
 
As Richard led her into his office, his mind raced through his options, finding none that were entirely suitable. He waited while she sat, deliberately putting herself in the chair nearest the door. He could sense her uneasiness with being in his office.

Her query immediately plied his inner monologue-'What do I want you to look at? How about my hand pumping my thick shaft?' The thought caught him aback a bit, but he couldn't help but acknowledge that it was true.

That was surely not an answer he could give Emilia, though. Still a tad disheveled, he reached for some papers, moving a few things aside.

"One second, there were some projections here that I wanted to share with you."

What Richard had forgotten in the commotion was the iPad. He'd muted it, but never stopped the video when he threw it on his desk. By this point, several minutes later, the brunette was getting the better of the encounter, perched on her knees, torso over the arm of the couch, the redhead entering her from behind with a strap-on.

This was the view Emilia got when he casually tipped the iPad toward her to pull a stack of papers out from under it.
 
Emilia's eyes went wide as Mr Greyson tipped the iPad toward her, displaying the muted women fucking with a strap-on. She drew a sharp breath in through her nose, turning her face away but continuing to watch the steamy scene out of the corner of her eye.

She realized quite suddenly that it had been far too long since she had been pleasured, either by herself or by someone else. It wasn't exactly common knowledge around the office (for obvious reasons), but Emilia was at least rather curious about women. She wouldn't really call herself bisexual, but certainly could readily admit (when plied with enough alcohol) that she found other women to be sexy and beautiful. And, perhaps more to the point, found the scene on the iPad to be an enormous turn on. She watched, enthralled even as she pretended to look away, as the redhead on the screen filled the brunette to the hilt and began to thrust slowly in and out of her. The look on the brunette's face belied how good it felt - the moans were muted, but her expression was all that was required to express her intense pleasure.

Emilia bit her lip, barely swallowing a moan as she shifted her hips in her seat. She could feel her clit throbbing and swelling, and her panties were beginning to soak through. She considered, for a moment, she and Richard Greyson finishing together what he had started alone, but shook the thought abruptly from her head. It was a very bad idea for her to pursue one of her superiors in any capacity. Of course, that just made it more tempting - the taboo was incredibly sexy - but she was certain it was a bad idea. She was also certain he would never agree to something so immensely risky and inappropriate.
 
Richard was still shuffling papers, left hand propping up the iPad, when he heard the sharp intake of breath from Emilia. He lifted his eyes, unable to see the screen. Yet, it immediately flashed to him what she was seeing in front of her.

He closed his eyes, feeling his cheeks flush. Richard was a director, powerful, and yet, for a moment, he knew he was very much caught by a junior employee. With her eyes averted, he was able to take a better view of her shifting in his seat, her hips moving forward just enough to be noticeable. A small but urgent thrust towards him.

That subtle, small movement gave him strength. He found himself regaining his sense of authority in the situation. He was her professional superior after all. With that thought in mind, Richard stepped back from around the desk, perching on the edge of it, facing Emilia.

He took her face in his left hand, a bold move during normal hours, but seemingly natural in the moment. He peered into her dark eyes. "Emilia, I apologize, that wasn't intended for you to see. You must know that."

Her skin felt soft at his fingertips. He turned her face towards his, gazing down at her. She seemed to be shrinking ever-so-slightly. "Emilia-nothing happened here. You saw nothing. Do you understand that?"
 
Emilia drew in another sharp breath when he touched her face. He spoke softly, kindly, and she felt hope swelling under her breastbone. He wasn't angry, which likely meant he wasn't going to try to be rid of her by firing her. It occurred to her belatedly that he was probably worried about some kind of sexual harassment complaint. She wouldn't, not after she had willingly spied on him, even if only for a few seconds, but he couldn't know that.

She nodded quickly, making his fingers brush up and down against her cheek with the movement of her head. "Of course not, I won't..." Her voice trailed off as a new thought occurred to her and a small, shy and slightly bashful smile appeared on her lips. "Saw what, sir?" She blushed, feeling like she was flirting with him, even if that wasn't her intent. It may well have been her subconscious intent, and she couldn't deny that the relative security she felt in the idea that he wouldn't try to have her fired over the incident gave her a little more confidence.
 
The shift in her tone had taken Richard by surprise. He'd felt in control of the situation to this point, even if tenuously so. This shift caused him to reevaluate. Had she seen something? Was she looking to take advantage of the situation? Leverage it into a raise, a promotion? He couldn't quite figure out her angle, or what she'd seen.

The sparkle in her eye sent a charge through him, re-awakening his cock. He felt the blood rush back to it, pressing it against the thin fabric of his boxers once again. Knowing that it would be only a moment before his erection would become more noticeable, he stood, looking to reassert control of the situation. The motion brought him closer, into the small space between the desk and the chair, his hand withdrawing from her face.

He searched his mind for an out, and thought it had been discovered.

"The pornography, Emilia. On the iPad. That didn't happen. Or whatever else you think you saw." His face was flush now, undoubtedly in a noticeable way.
 
Emilia let out an embarrassed laugh, shifting her gaze back down to the floor. "I-I'm sorry, sir. Of course, I won't mention anything."

She bit her lip, looking up at him through her eyelashes. Her gaze darted back toward the iPad - even with everything that had happened, the porn was still playing, muted, on the tablet's screen. She couldn't see it clearly at the angle, but she could see the redhead now kneeling over the brunette's head, her body bouncing up and down as she threw her head back with pleasure. The camera cut to a close up of the brunette's tongue licking teasingly at the redhead's swollen clit and then to the brunette plunging her fingers into her own cunt.

Emilia drew in another sharp breath through her nose, shutting her eyes and blushing. She needed so badly to get out of here and masturbate - she was sure she'd end up making it as far as the car before she gave in and fingered herself.

Once again, the thought of Richard Greyson helping her get release (and she returning the favour) came unbidden to her mind. Her eyes popped open and she met his gaze, looking once again like she had been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to.
 
Richard nodded at her words, feeling secure in the thought that Emilia would keep the evening's activities to herself. He still wasn't sure if she'd caught him stroking himself. The porn, the position in which he was sitting and the time of evening certainly all gave away what he might have been doing, even if she hadn't directly witnessed it.

He watched as her eyes trailed to the iPad, eyes also catching the brunette sliding two fingers into her glistening slit, thrusting in and out with purpose. The flush filled Emilia's face as she sighed, showing Richard that she was indeed finding arousal in the video on the screen.

Richard found himself wondering about her. Did her nipples engorge, requiring frequent and rapt attention? Would her lips part easily for him, allowing him access to her sweet juices?

Their eyes met. Richard's gaze narrowed as he leaned down, placing his right hand gently just above her knee, pressing it away from her other leg slowly. His voice was low, but encouraging-'Emilia, I think this video, the one we aren't seeing' he smirked 'is giving me quite an idea.'
 
Emilia pressed her lips together to contain her squeak of surprise as Mr Greyson leaned toward her as began to part her legs. He encountered some resistance for the split second before she realized what was going on, and then only because she had been squeezing her thighs together as a reaction to her own arousal. Her legs relaxed as soon as he began to push against them - she allowed him to push her knees apart but couldn't quite bring herself to spread them on her own, partly out of some fear that she was misunderstanding his intentions. He couldn't really want her that way, could he?

She felt her nipples grow suddenly very hard, straining against the thin material of her tanktop - she was not wearing a bra, so they were very visible and she knew it. She blushed and crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide them, but even the relatively innocuous touch of her arms sent jolts of pleasure through her body and she swallowed another moan, feeling her nipples harden even further.

As Mr Greyson parted her legs, she unconsciously rolled her hips again, seeking the pressure between her pussy and the chair that she had lost after parting her thighs. She was soaking wet and she knew her pussy lips were swollen and engorged and, with yoga pants as form-fitting as the ones she was wearing, she was sure her dampness and the shape of her cunt were at least partly visible with her legs spread the way they were.

Emilia blushed bright red, trying (this time rather unsuccessfully) to swallow a moan. She felt like her body was betraying her by advertising her arousal the way it was. Her gaze lifted to Mr Greyson's face; he seemed so in-control of himself and the situation, especially compared to Emilia. Ironically, his outward calm and in-control attitude did nothing but turn her on even more. She gave a tiny roll of her hips again, biting her lip. "M-Mr Greyson, s-sir, are you..." She sighed at the expression of lust in his eyes when he returned his gaze to hers as she spoke. She swallowed hard and tried again. "Are you sure that this is a good idea, sir?" She couldn't help the meek, submissive tone in her voice as she spoke; he was her boss - her boss's boss's boss, in fact - and she couldn't bring herself to speak to him in any other way. Hell, she couldn't even bring herself to think of him as Richard instead of Mr Greyson!
 
Perhaps it was the tone, maybe it was the word 'sir' in her last sentence. Whatever it was, Richard Greyson found himself extremely aroused by Emilia at this point.

He'd taken special notice of the outline her nipples had left in her tank top. It was difficult not to, even once she'd covered them in that hasty motion. For his part, Richard was terribly sure that the outline of his erection was visible along the crotch of his suit pants. He was also sure that he cared very little about whether it was noticeable or not. Frankly, he hoped she would see how ready he already was for her.

The subtle rolling of his hips drew his eyes down. He felt the movement as she lifted, her leg rubbing up against his palm. He pushed it up the thin fabric of her pants, feeling her legs spreading a bit futher for him. A nagging voice in his head cautioned him about the impropriety he was preparing to undertake, but that voice was quickly overruled by the one that urged his hand up her thigh, directly between her legs.

His voice barely a whisper, he posed the rhetorical 'Do you have a better idea, Emilia? I'm all ears'.

Richard wasn't waiting to hear the response. His gaze had fixated on the outline of her pussy lips pressing against the yoga pants as she pushed her hips outward, beckoning to him. Quickly, his hand moved to them, to feel them. He was careful, wanting to draw her in. As such, he put only a small amount of pressure on them with the two forefingers of his right hand, his left resting on the arm of the chair. Gently, he eased his fingers up and down the length of her slit slowly, his head hovering just above hers.

He could feel the wetness through the thin fabric, and he knew then that he would have Emilia.
 
Emilia gasped loudly, her breath catching in her throat as his fingers brushed oh so gently and teasingly along her clothed pussy lips. Her arms, once trying to hide her nipples, shifted: the one underneath tightened and slid under her breasts, almost hugging herself. The result was that she pulled together and lifted up her chest, creating much greater cleavage. Her other hand went subconsciously to his right forearm, pulling gently and trying to increase the pressure of his hand over her crotch.

She moaned aloud, for the first time not bothering to try to hide the noise. She leaned back in the chair, shifting her hips forward and arching her back slightly. "S-sir..." she moaned. She was trying to suggest that this was still inappropriate, her rational mind tried desperately to argue against her actions. A much larger part of her wanted this, wanted him, and it crushed the dissent in her mind as he traced his fingers tentatively over her slit. "Please..." she breathed; what was once to be an argument turned into a plea for more. Her breath had quickened enough that she could no longer speak. Regardless of how dangerous and stupid this was, she wanted nothing in the world at that moment more than his hands, his tongue or his cock inside her.
 
Richard took the cue from her hand clutching at his forearm and applied a bit more pressure to her swollen lips. The movement brought him closer to her, forcing him to put his knee on the chair, his body almost pressing against hers. He peered down at her, his gently closing as he inhaled the light scent of her shampoo.

His eyes lingered on her cleavage, taking in their shape as she pushed them up, as though offering them to him. As his two fingers worked at her slit, he felt the dampness through the fabric. The shifting of her hips, the utterance of 'please' led him to push his fingers more firmly against her, almost by instinct rather than some calculated movement.

More roughly, his left hand moved to the hem of her tank top, lifting it pulling it up, the movement pulling her arm away from her body, letting her breasts fall free. The firm round orbs exposed, his left hand slid across one and cupped it, gently kneading.

He leaned his head down, his chin resting on the top of her head, his chest pressed against her. His voice was low, breathing becoming heavier as he rasped, "Please what, Emilia? What is it you need?".
 
Emilia shifted her arms and body to help him remove her shirt, anxious for greater skin-on-skin contact. She arched into his hand as it cupped her breast, shutting her eyes to better focus on the feeling of his hand on her breast and his fingers on her pussy. She pulled on his forearm again, grinding her hips against his fingers.

She opened her eyes opened and found his chest in front of her face. Her gaze slid down to his bulge, and then shifted back up as he asked her what she wanted. She drew in a breath. "I want..." Her breath caught as his fingers passed over her clit and nipple and she moaned. "I wa..." Her breath caught again and thrust her hips into his hand. "Please..." she gasped, struggling to get her voice to work, "I want.. I want more..."

Her hand reached hesitantly out and brushed the bulge with her fingers. She gasped when his fingers brushed against her clit again. She lifted her hand from his forearm to cup and knead her other breast and, naturally, her hand over his erection closed slightly and began to knead gently in the same pattern as the hand over her breast.
 
A rush of air escaped Richard's lips as Emilia's fingers found his crotch. He pushed back against them, indicating his hunger for more than a simple grazing. He pushed his fingers more roughly against her slit, anxious to touch the flesh beneath the fabric, to ease into it, feel it envelope him.

Her words urged him forward-more sounded a wonderful idea to him in the moment. His eyes were drawn to her hand gently massaging her breast, watching as her fingers gently closed over an engorged nipple, rolling her fingers over it gently. He mimicked the motion with his own hand on her other breast, leaning down, his breath hot on her ear. "Yes Emilia, more is what we should both have" he whispered to her.

The sentence was barely out of his mouth when his hand moved away from her pussy, grasping the waistband of her pants, tugging at them hungrily. He felt the soft material of her panties at his thumb-tip as he hooked it inside, wanting desperately to pull them down at the same time.

He pulled roughly, wanting to rip them away from her body. His mouth brushed her earlobe as he groaned lightly in her ear, "Emilia, you must let me taste you, now."
 
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