Written by Lizz

Fiction
21 Oct 2016


He was the spitting image of his brother. Except Simon was at least a head taller. Used his words sparingly, but when he spoke, his deep voice was grounded in authority.

I had just ended a stormy relationship with his younger brother, Samuel. He would never know it though. They barely spoke.

Sam had been a man of extremes. Thirty-something, he was my immediate senior. Working across from his office, our 'meetings' became a regular thing somehow. Coinciding with the late hours... avoiding rush hour traffic was the standard excuse.

It would always be in his office. Door locked. My ass perched on the edge of the table while we kissed. I loved the aftertaste and smell of Camel cigarettes on his tongue. Our breathing harsh as we grew oblivious to the hum of cars outside. My legs wrapped around his hips.

My panties would wet as his dick grew harder and pressed against my pussy. His kisses and touch always urgent.

Eventually I would reach down, release his long cock, keeping eye contact, then slide off the table. He would always stay standing, hands grasping the edge of the table. I would feel his legs quivering while I went to work.

I would blow gently across the tip of his dick, watching it stiffen as his precum oozed out. One hand would hold the base of his cock while the other would tease his scrotum. Scratch the soft insides of his thighs. His tummy tense with excitement as I let myself taste his sweet saltiness.

I would look up and watch his face. His eyes rolling back. His face, a grimace of extreme restraint. It game me a sense of power.

I would tease his precum into a shiny slickness over his head. Suck on his foreskin, letting my tongue into the pocket between it and the tip of his dick. Swirling in circles. Slowly. Letting the pressure of my tongue rise as I sucked. Owning him. His knees would nearly buckle.

He'd hold his breath while I did this. Sometimes I wondered if it was too much for him to handle. I didn't care. I got off on being able to control him.

Eventually, he would get excited and I'd let him slide all the way to the back of my throat for a few hard thrusts and then I'd pull him out to tease and suck on his tip. We'd go on for a while and he'd hold his load of cum pretty well until he was ready to let go - usually into a tissue from the wooden box on his tabletop.

Our small arrangement never managed to leave the office however.

I'm not sure either of us wanted it to.

He grew abusive. Blunt. Throwing his harsh words at me in meetings as if I was to blame for his growing frustrations at home. Perhaps I was? But he'd never engage. My texts would go ignored for days.

Eventually, I packed my handbag early one afternoon, leaned against his open door and told him I wasn't interested in the doormat treatment. At least he'd had the audacity to look shocked.

Shortly thereafter, the 'long hours' paid off. I got promoted to another post. Same building. Higher floor.

I was relieved.

When I was introduced to Simon, at first I was shocked at their similarities. Sam and Simon. Cut from the same cloth. Same mannerisms. Gait. Swagger. It was uncanny.

But unlike Sam, Simon definitely had a soft spot for me. I don't know why. His eyes certainly didn't betray any knowledge of my previous 'extracurricular activities' downstairs. I put it down to personality.

Simon was unmarried too. Perhaps it was his lack of 'shackles' that had helped him find relative success compared to his younger brother. And perhaps this was the reason for their estrangement. I'd never know.

Simon's pleasant manner got me. This made me miss my old routine. My sense of ownership and superficial intimacy.

It wasn't all that odd then that I found myself obsessed with the thought of Simon's dick. Was it as long... longer? Cut? Did his balls wrinkle up the same way when tickled? Would he quiver the same way if I did the same things to him?

And - probably most importantly - could I take a ride? God knew it had been months since I'd had a good fuck.

I started to wear pantyliners regularly. Just the sight of him sent my pussy into its own frenzy. I couldn't control it. He didn't even have to try very hard. It was disturbing.

He'd drop off paperwork and stand by my desk to chat briefly. I couldn't keep my eyes from his crotch. I would feel my nipples push against the inside of my bra. Tingling. I'd look away. Crossing my legs to keep the air from cooling my wet pussy. Getting any more worked up would only send us further down a road Simon wasn't even aware we were travelling. It took all I had.

Something was going to have to give. And it eventually did.


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