Tatiana felt like her body was on fire. For three years, she had watched Clyde from afar. She had memorized his 6-foot-2 frame, short, sandy hair, and piercing blue eyes. Fantasized about his touch and the pleasure it would bring. Always she had run from him, hid away where he couldn’t notice her. It was hard work, granted, as she was his executive assistant, but she’d learned to hide behind a professional mask and strict office etiquette. Now that he was touching her, even that had disappeared. He knelt before her, tie, shirt, and coat tossed away moments before, his hands bunched in her skirt, hiking it to her waist. His tongue flicked over her clit and she shook above him, fingers burrowing into the strands of his hair.

“Yes, Clyde,” she moaned, pushing her pussy harder against his mouth. He ate at her flesh like a man starved. His eyes were closed in bliss, low rumbles carrying from his throat straight to her clit. She leaned back against the door he’d cornered her against when she’d come into his office, and draped her leg over his shoulder.

“Good girl.” He chuckled before sucking her clit into his mouth. He let go of her hip, trailing his fingers over her garter before finding his way to her pussy. He grazed over her lips, heightening her senses before sinking into her depths. Two thick digits plunged into her with breathtaking speed. No fanfare. No waiting. Just blazing touch. She arched her back, riding him as his fingers fucked her and his mouth loved her. He stiffened his tongue to a point before rubbing over her clit. His fingers motioned ‘come here’ inside her.

“God, yes, like that!” she cried.

She gripped him tighter to her body, her leg clinched around him. Her hips shifted up and down against him, rolling with each of his licks. His other hand left her hip, forcing her to balance on her toes as he deftly unbuttoned her shirt. The chic silk material slithered over her skin, the white stark against her bronzed flesh. She barely noticed when he unclasped the front of her bra and her breast spilled forth, until she felt the graze of her braids against a stiff nipple. She sucked in breath as he fondled her nipples with her hair, twirling the ends over her stiffened buds. The combination of him stimulating her breast, his tongue at her clit, and his fingers inside her pushed her closer to that precarious edge.

“No, not yet,” he whispered, pulling away from her. His cheeks shined with her juices and she felt the flame of desire lick over her flesh. He was like a Viking god of old, kneeling between her legs with a sexy grin on his face. If the tent his cock made in his slacks was anything to go by, she would soon be a very happy girl.

“What?” He stood slowly, pressing against her bared flesh. His chest rubbed over her pussy to touch her stomach and then her tits. She had never wanted a man so bad in her life. Everything in her was screaming that he was hers. That this was right. That she had waited too long to taste him. Too long to feel him inside her. Three years. Three whole years she’d watched him and now she had him. Could touch him as she pleased.

“No,” she agreed, “not yet.” She ran her fingers over his stomach, noting the trembling she brought. Her darker flesh against his paler tone was mesmerizing. She took her time memorizing him, feeling him. He was like steel wrapped with silk. Hard, soft and oh so right. She ran her fingers over his nipples, mimicking his teasing touches from before. He stood still and let her, never looking away from her face. She smiled up at him, too lost in the feel of him to feel embarrassed. Leaning forward, she rubbed her hair over him. Over his stomach, to his nipples, and back again. She worked his slacks open and then pushed them over his hips.

Damn…commando. A man after her heart, for sure.


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