One Little Tear (closed for AveryElle)

[AlpineFresco]

One little line of stitching had pulled away, where the zip held to the front of her trousers. It wasn't much, and certainly not noticeable unless you knew it was there, but he did know. She'd noticed it earlier, and then told him by text, and now he was standing behind her, left hand gripping her hip, right hand further forwards, fingers through the little tear and tracing along her panties. He lifted them, just enough to trace her pussy lips, hear her intake of breath as he made light contact.

But this was just their lunch break, and as much as he enjoyed this, he enjoyed making her wait more. He kissed the back of her neck, and withdrew his hand, bringing it to her mouth where she greedily sucked on his fingers, tasting herself, and tasting him. She could feel him, pressing hard against her lower back, and she pushed her ass back against him while letting out a short moan.

"We should get back to work now, Rachel," he said, quite matter-of-factly.

"I know," she breathed, but in her head she was screaming Fuck's sake!

"There's time for more, later," he carried on. "I'll want to-" he let the sentence hang, trail away into a quiet laugh as he smiled, a smug look on his face, "Later."

 

[AveryElle]

Rachel found it difficult to concentrate on her work that afternoon. Subconsciously squeezing her thighs together, or feeling the cool air of her office against her neck. She was thinking of Henry. Legs crossed, she was thinking of what to text him. Gripping her phone, Rachel wrote, “you made the tear a bit larger, you know.”

The text bubble in response appeared and took forever. Henry was deliberate. She knew.

“Well, bigger can be better.”

Rachel could hear the smugness in that written response, which made her bite her bottom lip just a little. Funny thing about when she bit her lip was that Henry made her do it so often, there was what felt like a permanent bruise there. When her teeth slid over it, yet again, it sent a slight shock down her belly to between her legs.

She knew better than to respond.

“Best leave it for after work,” she thought to herself.

The hours ticked by, slowly, and the days rarely ended for her at five. Today, however, Rachel didn’t care. She took the stairs two flights up to Henry’s office, where the door was slightly open, and he was still working. She noticed a finger print on his glasses lens, and that the top two buttons of his oxford were undone. This time of year was always pressing, and it often showed.

Rachel quickly took her hair out of the bun she’d had it in all day, and knocked gently on the door frame.

“Want some company?” she asked, as she slid in between the frame and door, closing the door behind her.

“Well I wouldn’t want to muck up your trousers more so than I already have,” Henry said with a smirk.

Rachel didn’t say anything. She unbuttoned her plum colored blouse, tossed it to the floor, and then stepped out of her ripped grey trousers, kicking them next to the growing pile of clothing. She stood there, against the door, in her relatively plain underthings. White, cotton with lace trim. But the contrast against her darker skin was anything but innocent.

Henry’s eyes moved from her feet to her eyes, and once eye contact was made, Rachel dropped to her knees, as she knew she was supposed to.

Henry pushed his chair back from his desk and stood up, still looking at her in the eyes. He walked over to where she was kneeling and took her chin in his hand.

“What are we going to do with you?” He said quietly.

Rachel suddenly realized that the shades of the office’s floor-to-ceiling windows were up, and should someone choose to look up, they’d see.

“Whatever you’d like,” she responded.

Henry traced his thumb over her bottom lip, pinching the tender spot she often bit, making her startle.

His hands move to her hair, where he took a handful of her thick, dark waves and pulled firmly, tilting her head back.

“You were a bit of a tease today, weren’t you?” He asked rhetorically.

Rachel’s eyes lowered. Truth was, as much as Henry liked it when she looked up at him through her dark eyelashes, he did enjoy the few moments of deference.

As he gripped her hair, he bent down to kiss her, while his free hand slid down the back of her panties and he gripped her ass cheek, digging his fingers in to her skin.

When he let go of her hair and her ass, Rachel let out a very soft whimper, a tell, if you will, that she never really wanted him to let go. As he stepped back, she could see his cock straining against the fabric of his trousers. It always made her happy to know she was turning him on, and only made her want to be that much better for him.

Her hands reached up for his belt, which she unbuckled. When she went to remove it, he stopped her.

“I’ll hold on to this," Henry said. "For later.”

The edges of Rachel’s lips curled in a smile, as she continued to unzipper and then slide down his trousers. Her nails slid down the back of his thighs as she looked up at him.

“Eager today,” Henry said. Rachel took that as a compliment.

Sitting back on her knees, she pressed one hand against the outline of his cock, giving it a firm squeeze. The twitch in response made Rachel lick her lips.

“Stand up,” Henry told her just as she began to slip her finger tips inside the waistband of his underwear.

She paused for a moment, her fingers lingering on his skin there. She paused on purpose.

“Stand up,” he repeated. He wasn't especially fond of repeating himself.

 

[AlpineFresco]

She looked up at him, and for a moment the deference from before melted away, as she met his gaze, just enough to tell him that her bratty side wasn't all that far from the surface. But still, it wasn't the time to take that any further, and so she dropped her head a little slowly stood.

Henry stepped out of his trousers, and rested his palm on the front of Rachel's panties. "The desk," he said. "Lean. Facing me."

As she began walking to his desk, she felt his hand on the small of her back. Possessive. She turned, and did as she'd been told, her ass resting against the edge of the desk top. Cold, but not too uncomfortably so.

"Good girl," he spoke, softly, and she felt a little thrill pass through her as she heard the words.

Henry placed a kiss on her chest, then another a little higher, between her collarbones. Rachel turned her head, leaving the sensitive skin of her neck open for the next kiss, a little harder than the others. She heard him almost growl and moan into her skin, here, and that made her take a sharp breath. "I want more," she breathed.

"On the desk, or over it?" he asked, but she knew it wasn't a question meant for her. He was musing, and wanted her to hear it.

She became very aware of a few things, all at once - her quickened heartbeat, her nipples, stiff and visible, pushing against her bra, and Henry's hand, which had slipped down into her panties, fingers run down the bare flesh of her cunt. Not exactly dry. She became vaguely aware of pushing a few of his papers to the side. Or maybe they were on the floor now. She didn't really care, not at this moment.

The world seemed to hold for a breath, with Rachel biting again at her lip, before Henry pressed two fingers slowly, and without any resistance, inside her.

"Oh, you really are eager," he said, his other hand gripping again at her hair, holding her so he could look right at her.

She moaned, her nerves alive, an ache in her centre causing a tightening of her entire body as she found she had just enough give from his grip to nod at her. "Please," was all she could muster, but she knew he loved to hear it

Deeper, his fingers pressed, and Rachel knew that he could feel her squeezing down there. It was strong, and she was proud of that. She cast her eyes down, and was gratified to see him straining even harder at his underwear. Her mind was suddenly caught up with the thought that she had nothing filling her mouth.

"Ah, please..." she repeated.

And then, abruptly, he stopped. Fingers pulled out of her, Henry purposefully brought them to his own lips, and tasted her. A wicked half-smile crept across his face.

Not this again, no no no... she thought. She wanted, needed more than this.

"On the desk, or over it? Neither," he said. "I really do think," he paused, letting go of her hair and letting his fingers drag hard down her neck and chest, "that you can wait[I/] for more." And with that, he moved to collect his trousers, and dress as if nothing had happened. Perhaps the bulge he still sported gave something away, though.

"Dress yourself," he told her, a firm tone in his voice.

Rachel felt... angry, in a way. Frustrated, certainly, and aware of her own wetness against the fabric once again against her pussy.

Fuck! The word ran loudly through her head. Henry, you... ah, fuck!

 

[AveryElle]

She did know better than to protest Henry’s command, so she slowly put her pants on, and then her blouse. He watched her, enjoying the frustration showing on her face and on her flushed chest. There was a moment where he wanted to tell her to stop, and to bend over the desk. But not today. Not now. For now, he would simply enjoy watching her fingers still slightly trembling as she pushed each button through the loop on her shirt. She slid on her heels, and out her hair back in a bun at the nape of her neck.

Henry walks towards her, getting just close enough that Rachel wanted to lift her hand and place it on his chest. But again, she knew better. She stood there, as he looked, almost inspecting her. His hand came up and undid the top button of her blouse.

“That’s better,” he said, sliding his index finger gently down that sensitive valley between her breasts. His eyebrow raised when he noticed her nipples stiffen in response.

“So, drinks?” he asked, knowing full well Rachel would go anywhere he suggested, as long as it got them back to his house faster.

She simply nodded while walking out of his office, and though he was closing up his office for the day, Henry watched her walk out, one of his favorite views of her.

He held her hand as they waited for the elevator, his fingers tracing around the skin on her hand. Tenderness. Rachel relished the tenderness because she enjoyed the dichotomy. Once inside the elevator with a few other coworkers on their way out, Henry’s hand slid over Rachel’s ass and up the back of her shirt. His fingertips walked down to the small of her back until they made the way to her hip. Once his fingers found their destination, he dug them in to her sensitive skin.

She twitched at the feeling of his fingers and nails pressing in to her skin, and – being keenly aware of her colleagues in the shared elevator – worked hard to stifle a moan. She turned to him and licked her lips.

“Hungry?” Henry asked, that fucking half smirk returning.

“More thirsty than anything,” Rachel said, her response almost trailing off in thought.

 

[AlpineFresco]

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Simple pleasantries had been made with their colleagues, but neither of them had any intention of getting caught up in any work chat. They made their excuses, and then headed out of the building. To Rachel, the sound of her heels on the tiled floor seemed to overpower most of what was going on around, but it was his hand still firmly on her back that held most of her focus. Did it matter if anyone saw that? No, it really didn't. Maybe they'd think he was just overbearing, she thought. Not far off... but not exactly unwelcome, either.

"I know a place," Henry said, not looking at her but just casually glancing around, "not far from here. We can take the subway."

"Do I get a say?" she asked, as they stepped out into the street.

"Of course," he replied, hand slipping a fraction further down her back, almost possessively on to her ass. "You can come with me, or not."

"I think I'll..." she didn't finish her sentence, just stepped a little closer to him. That undone button suddenly seemed to be letting in a bit too much cold air.

"I know," he said, looking sideways at her.

The station was only a moment's walk away, but they had to wait for a train. It was busy, end of day commuters choking the platform, a little cluster of humanity all bustling through.

"Do you suppose," Henry began drawing one finger down her cheek as he quietly spoke, "that many of these people are..." a train rushed through on the other side, drowning him out, but she could still feel his touch. Rachel strained to hear, his finger now brushing down just past her lips, making her shiver, but she only caught the end of his sentence as the train left, "...because I think maybe they are."

"Mmm? I couldn't hear you," she said. Theirs was approaching, the lights visible at the corner of the tunnel.

"Oh, well," he carried on. Stopping. "These people," a slight gesture around. They had to move, and she was again guided by him. "So many, leaving work, to find..." Passengers stepped out past them, the usual mutters of 'scuse me' and 'pardon' and of course the unconcerned shoving. Scents of perfume, of cologne, of cigarettes, of food, of drink, of a day's work, all mingled.

On to the train, now. No less crowded. Warmer.

"... some release." Henry's voice dropped as he uttered the worlds, and he locked eyes with her. She held, for a split second, and then looked down, blushing.

Rachel felt an excitement in her centre, a fluttering tension, growing, heating, promise for the evening to come.

"Just a couple of stops," he said, as they boarded.

 

[AveryElle]

Rather than take a seat, they were both inclined to stand on the train, both holding on to the pole. Henry liked seeing Rachel’s fingers around the cold, relatively thick metal. He stood facing her.

“Three stops,” he told her. “Are you cold?”

“Not especially,” she replied.

“You look cold,” he said, moving closer to her, bringing his coat around her a bit. It was spring according to the calendar, but you couldn’t tell by the temperature. Henry relished that public closeness. She was his, and enjoyed others seeing that was the case.

“Some release,” he said again, pulling her closer still. “How long has it been? Two days? Three? I’ve lost track. I’m thinking you have not, however…”

Rachel shot him a glare, one that implied many things, including how long it had been. The games they played were always etched in her mind.

He pulled her in for a kiss, and whatever tension she was retaining from the work day, and the teasing, melted away. Their kisses started slowly. Deliberate. The difficulty was avoiding escalation. She slid her hands around him through the opening of his coat and she could feel him smile during the kiss. He bit her lower lip, close to that ever-present bruise.

“Good girls don’t kiss like that,” Henry grinned while moving his hand to that tear in her trouser seam. He slipped two fingers in just enough to the sensitive area above her clit through her panties.

“Ah, our stop,” he declared, removing his fingers from her trousers. Straightening himself out, he was thankful that his coat could cover up his arousal.

Rachel held his hand tightly as they exited the station to the street. The wind was stronger than she was anticipating. At least, that’s what she told herself was the reason for her tightening grip.

The bar he wanted to take her to was about a block and a half from the subway exit. It wasn’t a pub, but rather something more sleek with a lounge area. Rachel made her way to an empty table in the lounge area as Henry walked towards the bar.

“The bar,” he gestured to her. Truth be told, she was ready for a comfortable spot at a table but she followed him nevertheless.

Henry ordered their drinks, a beer for him and an old fashioned of course. He could almost taste the warming liquor on her lips when he ordered it. He liked that she didn’t order wine or other sweet libations geared towards women. Instead, she went for something strong and simple.

They stood next to other at the bar, talking about upcoming work they’ve got. All the while, Henry’s eyes barely broke from hers. He wanted to hear what she was saying. But, he also wanted to touch her. So he moved closer and slid two fingers of his right hand between the waistband of her trousers and her skin, slipping them along her hip. Soft. Warm. Rachel was familiar with their game and had a good bearing during such teases. Conversely, Henry knew she had such bearing, and enjoyed pressing her harder, trying to break her.

“Put your foot there,” Henry told her, pointing to the foot ledge under the bar.

Looking at him, this time with her head down so her glance was through her eyelashes, she put the ball of her left foot on the metal rail. It reminded her that the damned seam was still torn and she took a mental note to drop them off with the tailor soon.

“I certainly am looking forward to mid-month, when the work load cools a bit,” Henry said, slipping his right hand down over her pants to her thigh. “Every spring, I’m surprised that we get this busy.” His hand crept higher and more inward, inching towards where they met. He heard her quick inhale and felt the slight shiver, but she didn’t turn away. His free hand rested on the small of her back.

“It’s the travel that gets to me, more than anything,” she replied, the side of her lip curling up in a smile. The game. She parted her legs a bit more.

 

[AlpineFresco]

"Yes," he replied, his hand stopping in place. She'd offered more in parting her legs, but that didn't mean he had to take it right away.

"It's very tiring. More hours on the road than on site anywhere, half the time."

It wasn't terribly well lit here, at this side of the bar. Overhead lights, and some more at the back by the bottles, all quite muted. It was a specific atmosphere the owners had been pursuing, Henry mused. He didn't want to give Rachel all his attention at this point, holding back was fun, and he did want to be able to enjoy the feeling of being hidden in public that the low light afforded.

Silence and stillness briefly descended on them, hammocking in the tension of their hidden contact. Rachel took a sip of her drink, the ice clinking against the glass. There was murmurs of conversations from other patrons, but nothing too loud, nothing really audible. Soft music played, ambience-setting, but it wasn't memorable.

"Not-" she began, and that was his cue to move, fingers now deep in the tear, resting right over the front of her panties. "Not bad," she said. A slip, but nothing major. She wanted to press forward, against him, but she resisted.

"Well, they know what they're doing here." If she wasn't going to press, Henry was. He could feel the heat from her, through the cotton. "They know how to get it right." And up, a little, finding the shape of her cunt under the material. For his part, if she had reached out right then, she would have felt the effect of the moment on him. But... a slight issue, he couldn't actually take a drink like this.

She didn't say anything as he withdrew from her waist, but she did watch as he seemed to be about to reach for his glass, but stopped and rested his elbow on the bar, and then leaned to rest his chin in his hand. Was he...? Yes, yes he was. Her excitement from the day had been present on her panties, and now he looked right at her and slowly inhaled her scent. God, she wanted to reach out and wrap her arms around him, wanted more skin, more touching, more kisses... but that wasn't the game, wasn't how he wanted to play it, and so, despite the burning she hoped wasn't showing in her cheeks, she stayed in place.

"Tell me," he said, his voice languid as he looked at the liquor bottles on the shelves.

"Well," she began, very composed, "You should know by now about the spring, and not be caught off-guard by it. You're not new at this, and I need your touch." No change in tone, just a sudden swerve in subject. He raised an eyebrow at her, as if waiting for her to finish her sentence. It wasn't finished, if she really wanted what she'd said. Rachel knew that, though. She wasn't new at this. Her voice lowered. "Please."

"I try to be optimistic about what I can do, is all." He shrugged a little, as if to say, but what can you do, hmm? "And since you made your request so nicely..." Back inside the tear, this time with more urgency. Henry didn't really want that to show, but as much as he liked the idea of it he fully understood he wasn't a machine. Under her panties, up the outer lips, his fingertips quickly became more than a little slick from her pussy. Stroking down, she shifted her hips again and tried to hold down the gasp that rose in her throat as she felt pressure down lower, and two digits push inside her. Well, less push and more slide, she was wet enough that they just slipped right in.

She knew the game's rules. His game's rules. Hold your bearing, don't give. Her fingers tightened just a little around her glass. He was insistent, sliding in and out, shallow but with a slight curl that hit something just right in her. Head still bowed, she look at him, and saw irritatingly little concentration on his face. Maybe if she reached... Henry shook his head as she started.

"No, I don't think so." Firm tone.

Okay, she told herself. Okay, that's how this works here. A patron wandered past, probably looking for the restroom. Could they tell? She was sure Henry's arm must be visibly moving, but it was dim light... And yet, the thought of some danger of visibility felt the sort of perversely pleasurable that might have a sting in it. Maybe.

Did he catch her brow tensing a little? Henry wasn't sure, but he was curious. He flicked harder, a little faster inside her, and enjoyed the straining he felt in his own trousers. Why rush? He very much believed in taking time over anything worthwhile... unless that was what was expected.

"Fuck," Rachel breathed, almost silently, as the bartender moved past, ringing up the bill for a group of woman at the other end of the bar.

She took a another sip, the warmth failing to calm anything, and looked for a mat to put the glass down on. Something padded, or she might drop it too loudly. Oh... , she felt her trousers get pulled at, the tear widening slightly, and then his thumb over her clit. He was closer to her, his left arm around her waist.

"I can hear you. This." Very slightly, it was true, his fingerfucking and her wetness together were audible, but when he spoke he his eyes were on his mostly still full glass of beer. "And I can see you breathing heavier."

So what if he could? It felt too good at this point, and despite his earlier words she snaked her arm out to feel him. Maybe she just needed to know he wanted this as much as she did, and the firmness under her palm was some kind of confirmation. Her cunt was really starting to ache, though, and she squeezed it against him, had to fight not to squeeze her thighs together...

Fuck. She was almost there, almost. Her eyes began to close, her chest tightened, as she felt the first wave of pleasure beginning to build, rising... she snapped her eyes open and glanced at Henry, to find him looking right back at her. His fingers flicked harder inside her, and she realised he wasn't playing, he wanted to bring her over the edge right here. That was not entirely what she'd expected... she was sure he'd keep on teasing until later. Still, was that colour rising in his face? Her lips twitched at the thought, and she knew he wouldn't be so restrained later.

He didn't stop, but he did step even closer, to push right up to her. As the waves started to build inside her, she gripped at his forearm, fingers taught on his shirt sleeve. No, no, don't give any more, she told herself. Her chest was tight, rising and falling now in a way she couldn't fully control.

"It's getting late." He whispered.

Faster, harder, a little more upward pressure, and all her focus was being drawn down, pulled into her cunt. She bit down on her finger to stifle a low moan, and started to shiver as she felt the ache threaten to overwhelm her. She wanted to scream. She clenched her fist on the counter top, and did all she could to ride the crashing waves of pleasure that took over from her cunt, radiating outwards, warming her whole body. Someone had to have seen. Hadn't they? No? They have must spotted something going on... But she was good at this game, a veteran player. The pulsing kept on, hadn't let up, and she tried not to let anything show on her face as, gradually, they lessened and began to fade away. Fuck. She could feel her cunt very acutely, feel almost a heartbeat in it.

Rachel looked over to Henry. Was he... was Henry just slightly smiling as he pulled his hand away? Was he fucking smirking off into the distance? She let her breathing return to something close to normal, and, given the dark, she reached down and pulled her panties back into place, as they were still bunched off to the side. Damp. Her legs shook, almost imperceptibly, but he noticed, as he noticed her flushed cheeks.

"Good girl," he whispered, brushing his palm down her hair, stopping as if to grip, but not doing as she almost instinctively pushed towards his touch. "Drink up. We'll get a cab. I want to take you back with me." He leaned forward to kiss her. He was hungry, wanting her. The games in public were coming to an end. His teeth found, briefly, the bruise on her lower lip, and she heard him let out a quiet groan as she felt she was melting against him. At least the evening was causing an ache in him as well, she thought, with no small degree of satisfaction.

He took her hand in his, a tight grip, and gestured that they should make their way to the door. Hailing a cab wouldn't be difficult at this time of evening, and then they'd be back at his home.

 

[AveryElle]

...sorry for the delay!...

Exiting the bar, Henry once again put his hand on the small of Rachel’s back. There was a thrill in knowing that hand had just been between her legs.

“I wish Spring would decide to stay,” Rachel sighed, leaning in to Henry and putting her hand around his upper arm. He adored the feeling of her next to him. The warmth. The scent of her shampoo. The grip of her hand around his bicep. When she leaned a bit closer, he let out a deep exhale.

“Yeah, this cold spell is bullshit,” he said as a way to try to bury the sigh.

When a cab finally approached, Henry pulled away, causing Rachel to stumble just a bit, forcing her out of her wandering mind. He held the door for her, always confused by the polite way to handle a cab. Hold the door for her but she slides in? Slide in so she doesn’t have to? Modern romance.

Henry gave the cab driver his address and the two settled in to the back seat. Rachel loved driving through the city at night – bright lights, full of people. She always wondered what they were all doing at this hour. Whenever she was in a cab at night, she made up little stories about people as they rushed here and there. But tonight, no. She found herself interested in not wholly obeying the rules of the game. Heck, Henry had started down the path of the unexpected in that bar.

She turned from looking at the window to look at him. He, too, was looking out the window at the night time activity passing by. The silence between the two was cut by the engine noise and the traffic around them. Rachel’s hand moved towards Henry’s thigh – over his top coat – but the cab was too dark for her to see his smile.

He parted his legs slightly to let the top coat open further, inviting her fingers to investigate further. And, while he wasn’t as aroused as he had been even a few minutes prior, there was a twitch. He wondered if she had noticed, though he truly didn’t care. Her hand on him was something he was always hungry for, so he allowed her to explore.

Rachel left her hand on his thigh, her fingers gently pressing in to him before again releasing, kneading his leg. He glanced over at her and shook his head. “No more,” he implied. She nodded yes, slowly, not worrying about any of the likely repercussions. She wanted to feel him, especially that feeling of his cock growing in her hand. She felt…empowered when she was able to create that reaction. So she persisted.

She slid her hand more in between Henry’s legs and just a bit higher, her index finger just finding the place where his cock strained against his trousers. The low groan she let out when she reached that spot was not planned. It was instinctual, and the sound caused Henry to let out a deep exhale. He was thankful for the noise of the hustle and bustle outside, but wondered if Rachel could hear the pounding of his heart against his chest. Fuck, I need her, he thought.

As Rachel’s fingers teased him through his pants, the car finally pulled up in front of Henry’s house. Oh thank god, he thought. He paid the fair and felt as though he might be tempted to rip her clothing off as soon as they made it in. He took a deep breath and tried to reset. No rushing. He was going to make her wait for more as well. A second deep exhale.

Considering that they’d been flirting – and playing – for a bit, Rachel had never been to Henry’s home. Their games tended to stick to the office, or briefly a few times at her apartment. She was happy to see that his place was half decent. And, given the mess his office is, it was surprisingly tidy.

Once the door was shut behind them, Henry grabbed hold of Rachel’s forearm and pulled her to him. He needed a kiss. Truth was, he needed more. But that bit would wait. The kiss was urgent. He pressed her against the entry way wall, put his hands on her slightly cold cheeks, and kissed her. Rachel’s hands stayed by her side, in spite of her wanting to pull him closer.

The kiss, like others between them, teetered on the edge of passion. That fine line where much more meant clothing was going to come off. Henry knew when to pull back. When that final, playful nip at Rachel’s bottom lip would leave her wanting. And as much as he disliked pulling away, pull away he did. He wanted to leave her not only wanting, but needing.

“I’m going to get us something to drink, make yourself at home,” Henry said, taking Rachel’s coat.

She looked around his living room. Photo, some art, lots of books. Nothing that indicated she should bolt out of there.

“Neat, two fingers, right?” He asked, somewhat rhetorically.

“Excuse me?” She didn’t realize he meant the whiskey until he stretched out his arm to give her the drink.