It started with Jones from accounting. He was called into an office, so routine, and then security came and unplugged his computer. Donna Moore was next. She was some kind of account rep. In a week, Baker, Lee, and Hernandez were all gone.
They all walked out of that office with the same dull numb looks on their face, like they’d seen a ghost.
They took on all of accounting and all of the account reps, cutting roughly a third of their numbers. Though I had some evidence I was safe, but you never know.
Katie had been this ever-present force in my office life. Nothing serious, nothing real, just flirting. A passing glance, a little smile, a look that lasted a second too long. We never even really spoke much, but she suddenly became my best friend when the trouble started.
She would swing over to my desk when the smokers went out on their breaks. We had the bond of the clean lunged.
I had always noticed her. Tallish, a little broad-shouldered, and obviously originally from the Midwest. Some of those Midwest girls have a certain build, a little stocky like field hockey players – and they never lose that. She was that type, but with the poise and fashion sense of someone who had lived in Manhattan for a few years. Shoulder-length chocolate brown hair that was shiny and smooth, a very expensive cut. She wore designer clothes and had a million shoes. She liked to look good and smell good.
She reminded me of a woman I used to date; a dangerous girl with a temper who was wild in bed and bat shit crazy. Katie had that same streak. She also had this bratty sort of sing-song voice that was both extremely annoying and intensely attractive. There was something about her that brought out that dominant edge in me.
“James?” she would drag that ‘a’ out until it almost broke.
“Do you think you could do that thing with this spreadsheet that you do? The girl who used to do it… well… she’s gone. I think her whole department is gone.” the bratty tone was extra-sugary when she wanted something.
She came over to my desk for the hundredth time and put her hands on the edge, and leaned forward. Her arms pushed her tits together so that her cleavage was almost in my face. She was the kind of woman who would catch you staring and smile.
“I’m a little busy, Katie.”
“Oh.” she pouted.
She was an extrovert and a leader, someone who knew how to get things done, but when trying to persuade a peer to do something she wanted, she wasn’t above pouting and cleavage. The strategy didn’t make me want to do her work for her, but it did make me want to grab her by the hair and bend her over my desk.
“If you can wait a little while, I can show you how to do it.”
She brightened up. It wasn’t the ideal reply, but it would do for her.
She was wearing a low-cut, skin-tight top with a blouse over it that was unbuttoned halfway down. She also wore a skirt that came to her knees and a pair of boots that looked both expensive and uncomfortable.
Katie was no mouse. She was a go-getter. She walked around with confidence that she wasn’t going anywhere. That was, at least, until they started calling people from her department. Those piercing eyes started to look worried. That mask of confidence started to crack.
I was sort of in the same position.
As the day went on, it seemed clear that both Katie’s department and mine weren’t going to be up for “assessment” until the next day. That meant we could both look forward to a night of worry and a morning of stress.
As people trickled out of the office gossiping about who had left and who was going to leave, I finished what work I had and wondered if Katie still needed help. I also wondered how far those lingering looks and little smiles could go.
I was relatively straight-laced at work, but after a day like that, who knew what I would be up for. I might not even have a job in the morning.
As I watched the last person in my department leave, I got up and walked down the hall to Katie’s cubical.
She was sitting at her desk, as usual, typing away on some email. I knocked on the edge of her desk, and she jumped.
“Fuck, Jack. You scared me,” she said, putting her hand on her chest. “I forgot, yeah, the spreadsheet. Hold on one sec, okay?”
She got up from her chair and pushed it away from her desk a little, then she looked at me for a second before turning back to her computer, bending at the waist and closing windows with quick mouse clicks.
“Sorry, I just have to close all this stuff up, then we can do the spreadsheet.”
I stood there, looking at her ass, which was a foot from my crotch and a lot nicer than I had thought. She looked back at me over her shoulder, a flicker of a smile.
“Thanks for staying to help me, Jack.”
I was trying to figure out exactly how much of this was wishful thinking. I wanted to just grab her hips, snake my hands up her sides and cup her tits. Just like that.
When I looked up, she was looking me in the eyes.
“So are you going to help me with this?” she said in a sweeter tone, but she didn’t move out of the way of the computer.
I moved forward a little, smiling. My hip brushed hers. Then I was standing next to her bent over form, directing. I told her what files to open, what scripts to run. It was fairly simple. I showed her some shortcuts.
The whole time, her body was gravitating towards mine. She was sort of leaning against me. I could feel the warmth of her body through our layers of clothes. When we were done, she popped up, and we were suddenly very close.
She went to speak, but stuttered for a moment. I smiled because it’s fun to see someone so full of themselves get a little flustered.
“Thanks, James…” she said, her mouth twisting into a crooked little grin.
I put my hand on her hip. I just sort of leaned it there. It was an oddly intimate move, maybe even more intimate than I planned.
“It’s okay-” I started, but then she was moving into me and biting her bottom lip.
Her lips were very large and very soft. I’d thought about them a lot during slow days. Then, as we stood there, she was kissing me.
That first kiss, especially when it is unexpected, is a delicious thing. Her lips were hypnotically silky, and she had some kind of soft rich-smelling perfume on. I fell into this kiss with everything I had.
When we broke, I felt my face flush a little, but she looked bold – not a touch of embarrassment.
“Hi,” she said and smiled, her eyes full of cockiness.
“Hi,” I said back, and moved my hand to her back, and pulled her into another kiss.
She took fists full of my shirt and pulled me into her as she backed up against the desk. I let her pull me as we kissed. I was lost in the connection. My hand moved up her back as she bit my bottom lip.
This was a serious kiss between two people who liked to kiss and knew what they were doing. It was stronger than a shot of liquor, and after a minute of teasing tongues, I was a little dizzy. My brain ceased remembering that we were at work. It also forgot that we were co-workers who hardly knew each other.
When my hand moved up against the soft hair at the nape of her neck and then into the silky, luxurious smoothness of her hair, she leaned her head back into my hand and purred. I kissed down her cheek and pulled her head back by her hair, giving me inches of soft, pale neck to kiss and suck.
There are little gauges people do to see where a kiss should go and what exactly someone new is into. A little tug on a woman’s hair can tell so much. Occasionally, there will be no reaction or maybe even a raised eyebrow, though, to be honest, I haven’t met a girl who didn’t like to get her hair pulled, at least a little. Sometimes you get a moan or a sigh of pleasure. Katie’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she pulled her head away from my hand, making my grip tighten.
That’s when I was sure Katie was fun.
I bit her hard on her neck, dragging my teeth against her skin. When I went up to kiss her again, her eyes were glassy with lust. She lunged forward to kiss me, but I held her back by her hair and just teased her lips, brushing mine against them softly.
People spark a different chemical reaction in each other. There was something in her spoiled brat attitude that made me want her in a rough and potent way. I wondered what I was sparking in her.
While I pondered this, I reached up and took a handful of her breasts. I pressed into her and massaged them roughly. Her body reacted beautifully. She melted into my hand and pressed her body into mine.
I was lost in the feel of her as she moved in and bit my neck, then sucked at my ear.
“So this is after hours, James?” her brattiness was back. “I like him.”
I moved my hand from her breast to her side and then grabbed her thick ass, hard.
“You’ve been asking for this for long enough,” I said with a suddenly husky voice.
She laughed, long and low and sexy. “I was hoping you noticed.”
“You’re a brat,” I said, lightly spanking her covered ass.
Her eyes closed, and she groaned. I smiled a lot.
“Maybe a little,” she said, with an exaggerated pout.
I grabbed her and whirled her around, then pushed her down so fast that she had to put her hands up to stop from slamming face-first into the table. I was pulling her skirt up quickly, before she even had time to think.
Her ass was round, plump, covered in nearly transparent pink panties.
She was panting hard. She looked back at me and then looked around, a little fear in her eyes.
“Cleaning ladies don’t come in until eight,” I laid my hand on her ass. “Should I stop?”
She shook her head vigorously.
“No?” I asked.
She shook her head again.
“I didn’t hear you.”
She sighed, “Don’t stop.”
I pushed up her skirt a little more and smiled down at her plump ass. I slapped it once, hard and solid. It was that nice sharp sound when you hit the sweet spot. She jumped up and squirmed away. I could have held her down, but I wanted to see what she was going to do.
“Damn, you hit hard,” the brattiness dropped, and I think I felt my cheeks flush from the compliment.
“Yeah, I do, but I haven’t yet.”
Our eyes locked, and then she turned, put her palms on her desk, and bent over again for me, slowly. There was something that clicked into place. I smiled when I realized she was bracing herself.
My hand went to her ass, but my fingers trailed lower.
“How long have you been wet?” I said, leaning over and growling into her ear.
She didn’t want to talk.
“How long have you been wet?” My voice was lower and a bit more serious.
“Since you,” her breath caught a little as I smoothed my hand over her ass and rested my fingers on her inner thigh. “Since you pulled my hair.”
I chuckled low and sighed. “You’re going to be fun.”
I hit her hard, three times, all on the same cheek. She tried to pull away, but I grabbed her by the hair.
“Fuck! You’ve got a heavy hand,” she said, with real surprise in her voice.
Is it wrong to be so pleased with that reaction? I gave her two more solid smacks, and she jumped up and pulled her smooth hair out of my grip.
Her face was red now, and she looked absurdly delicious with her skirt pulled up and the pink panties showing between her legs.
She rocked a little from one foot to another. Her eyes were all challenge and desire. She was daring me. I stepped up to her so that we were face to face. I smiled. She smiled, but her eyes flashed, questioning what I would do next.
She reached up with both hands and tried to grab me, but I held her wrists and laughed.
“What are you going to do?” I laughed right into her face.
This made her furious. She tried to kick out my leg with her foot, but I didn’t budge. She groaned and gasped as she tried to hit me or get me down on the ground, anything, but I just stood there holding her wrists. This wasn’t easy because she was quite strong. I tried desperately not to let the strain show.
I pulled her in and kissed her again. She kissed me back, but then bit my lip, hard. I pushed her away, gritted my teeth a little, and cut my eyes at her.
She was breathing hard, and she gave me a bratty smile. That’s when I smacked her.
Sometimes you smack a girl across the face, and she blushes and bites her lip, and looks down. That can be intense. There is a huge power shift when that happens. Sometimes you smack a girl, and she closes her eyes and gets lost in the sensation, then it’s physical and primal. Once in a while, you smack a girl in the face, and she looks you right in the eye with rage boiling. When that happens, you know you have a fighter on your hands.
“You mother fucker!” she said, her eyes screaming, but the words were a whisper.
I smiled at the words, because as she said them, she was sinking to her knees. As those piercing eyes looked up at me, she was pulling at my belt.
Now, that was a real smack, so I had to gauge how well she really took it. Did I trust her enough to put my cock into her mouth with her eyes still full of fight? I had to let go of her hands to let her kneel fully on the ground, and all of my questions were answered by the way she opened my pants.
There are girls who do it to please, there are girls who do it because it is what you are supposed to do, there are girls who do it because they like it. Katie was one of those girls who did it because they had to. As she opened my pants, it was raw need. The fight was still there, but it was put aside because of the want.
When she got my zipper open, she made an annoyed groan at the single little button on my boxers. She opened it and pulled out my hard cock, and she sighed. I was gone now; it was just her and my cock. I could see it, and it was lovely to watch.
She held it with a firm grip. She looked at it. I could feel her breath on the head of it as she pulled it this way and that, and then suddenly, she just licked it. Her eyes met mine for a second as she licked the head of my cock, and then her eyes closed and sort of rolled back in her head. That’s how much she liked cock.
When she sucked the entire head into her mouth, my whole body braced a little. The woman could suck. The pressure was intense and potent. She sucked in a little more each stroke, gripping the base tightly at first and then letting go as she sucked more and more of it. She was focused and expert.
I like getting a blow job, but it certainly isn’t my favorite activity. This was beyond the norm, though. This was something amazing done by someone exquisitely capable.
She sucked more and more of me in until her lips touched the base of my balls. She kept her mouth perfectly wet. She pressed her tongue against the bottom of my cock, and then, in a perfectly executed move I’d never felt before, she pushed the whole thing in her mouth and then stock out her tongue and licked my balls.
I don’t usually come from a blow job, but there I was inching towards orgasm from only two minutes of her lips.
She let me slip out of her mouth and worked me with her hand for a minute as she gasped for breath. She didn’t look up at me. She just looked at my cock. She was working it fast with a look in her eyes of determination. She wanted it. She was going to have my come. I had no say in that.
When she sucked it again, it was a rhythm of slow, long strokes and then fast hard sucking on the tip. I didn’t have time to think. I barely had time to reach out and brace myself against the desk.
“I’m-I’m going to-,” but she wasn’t going to stop. In fact, she doubled her speed.
Coming with that kind of suction is a whole different sensation than a regular orgasm. I had to bite my fist not to scream as she sucked the orgasm right out of me and kept sucking until I was quivering and my knees were giving out.
She was blind to all of my shaking. She just wanted the come—every drop. My movement was an annoyance.
When I finally pushed her away and sat down on her chair, she was smiling at me with a new brattiness. A girl-who-got-the-biggest-piece-of-cake grin.
“You should have pulled my hair,” she said, panting a little.
I just shook my head and laughed.
I stood and pulled up my pants, looking down at her. Then I grabbed her perfect hair and pulled her up by it. I sat her on the edge of her chair and leaned over her, still pulling her hair hard enough so that she winced.
I pulled her legs up, pushing her skirt back up to her waist, and pulled off her panties. She was completely bare, waxed by the looks of it. She had a lovely triangle of pale white skin, her tan lines emphasizing the nakedness of her cunt.
I brought my fingers to my mouth and licked them, then, as she closed her eyes and bit her lip, I traced the line of her closed sex. She was shaking.
“You certainly like sucking cock, don’t you, Katie?”
She nodded her head fast and whined, “Yes.”
The brat was gone. She was a hungry little slut now. She’d gotten to suck cock, but she still needed to come.
When my finger slipped in, I found slick pink lips that opened to a puffy hard little clit covered in a thick hood. She was primed. I was careful not to touch her clit directly, I teased. When I slipped one finger down into her absurdly hot cunt her legs opened wide, and her breath caught.
Two wet fingers sunk into her, and she whimpered and arched her back. In and out, they went with ease, and she let out a little squeak every time I pushed in and up. When I added a third finger, I felt the muscles tighten, and I fucked her like that, with three fingers, all the time holding her hair so hard, she winced. I fucked her hard, finding that spot and bending my fingers up to hit it. She was so completely wet that my fingers slipped in and out quickly.
The silence of the empty office seemed to absorb her little moans and gasps, but the sudden squeaking of the chair as I really started fucking her echoed through the place. There was no hiding that sound, like an old bed. It was the sound of fucking.
I let my thumb brush against her clit every time I thrust into her, and she pushed her hips to meet me. As I finger fucked her, she pulled her shirt up and pulled roughly at the cup of her bra, hunting for her nipple, which was thick and pink. She pulled it hard and closed her eyes. I moved in and kissed her hard on the mouth.
“Just…,” she tried to say between thrusts. “Please… push up hard.”
I bent my fingers up harder, my hand burning from fatigue and fingers about to give. I kept going as she pulled on her nipple harder, twisting it. I pulled back on her hair again, and she yelped and bucked her hips, and I knew she was going to come. I felt the muscles of her cunt almost vibrating, her legs trying to close on my hand, then she pulled me close to her and bunched my shirt up and bit into the fabric to hold in her scream. Her cunt pushed my fingers out, and her legs clamped shut.
“Holy fuck, holy fuck,” she repeated over and over, between gasps into my shirt.
I stood up, and she sat on her desk, gasping. She’d been sitting on her keyboard, and now a row of numbers and letters ran across a single field of the spreadsheet. I deleted the field and shut her computer down as she pulled her skirt down and fixed her shirt.
She took my hand and kissed my fingers, smelling herself on each digit and licking the lingering wetness.
I watched her, and she looked back at me, the brat was gone, and a softer shyer side coming out. I was about to ask her something when we heard the beep of the hallway door’s electric lock.
I backed up and straightened my shirt, buttoning my pants just in time to see a cleaning lady pass by, pushing a vacuum.
We smiled at her, but she ignored us. Katie took my hand tightly.
“Come on,” she said, pulling me down the hall.
I stopped by my desk and grabbed my jacket.
“Where are we going?”
She was still panting and red-faced.
“I need a fucking beer and a cheeseburger.”
That’s when I knew that no matter what the outcome of the next day’s firings would be, Katie and I were going to be seeing a lot more of each other.