Oh Those Objects of Desire at the Workplace…

A continuation of the original fantasy inspiration http://www.thesexexperiment.com/members/mal8899/activity/20295/ and because @lake said something so pretty , I wanted to plagiarize her.

I knew that the warm hues of our needs would enter the hotel room, become intense colors we splatter across a sexual canvas that swirl us inexplicably together. The way our lips would meld and seal, sharing and immersing in our secrets, our suppressed desires.

“Yes, Jason, yes. Anything you want.”

I crane my neck to look back at you as I climb up on the edge of the bed. Your eyes bore into mine so deep; I can almost feel you inside me. My hands and knees, hot, sliding against the fluid bedding. My back arches to lift my ass higher, my cunt drips, drip, drip.

I watch you loosen your tie, undo your buttons. Then you drop your shirt. I leap down then, and fall on my knees in front of you.

“Please, let me…” I look up, pleading.

I kneel all the way down, sitting on my legs, I remove your shoes. Then your socks, tucking them neatly into your shoes.

“Please, let me…” I look up at you again.

I move up to undo your belt, working the outside button, the inside clasp, the inside button. And they say women’s clothes and lingerie are designed to tease a man? Finally, I pull apart the teeth of your zipper. Pushing down your pants, caressing your calves as I remove one pant leg, then the other.

“Please, let me….” I look up while my hands find your hips; my palms rub against the soft layer. The single layer left.

The single layer of mercerized cotton, its natural sheen enhanced and stretched and drenched. So much reference to a woman’s wetness but a man’s wetness is hypnotic. It calls to a place inside my chest that fires off through my mind and pools between my legs.

I lean up and suck your wetness right through the sheer fibers. The pointed tip of my tongue darts into your slit. Fine fibers and the fucking of my tongue. In and out of your cock. As the Chinese calls it, I start playing your flute. Working my mouth along your cock. Sucking, licking along your shaft while my fingers sneak under to rake the bare, taut skin of your balls.

God, am I teasing you and torturing myself? My moans hum and vibrate against you. And I cannot wait another second. I yank down. My mouth ferociously taking all of you in. I swallow you whole and I choke as you jerk and push down against and into my throat. My face buried in you. Your cock buried in my mouth and throat. You possess me. I possess you. You are mine.

“Let me taste my cock on your lips and tongue,” you say, just like that. My lips are on yours, throbbing and full. My tongue, completely yours. You don’t have to suck; I seep into your mouth. Back home, they don’t know. They have no idea. They have no idea at all what it is to count the multitudes of who you are, or what it is to dive the depth of your wildness.

I reach down and circle the head of your cock with my thumb. Without moving my mouth from yours, my thumb pushes your wet slickness into your mouth. I reach down and smear you onto another finger. I keep feeding you your wetness.

“I want to say it out loud, Jason. I want the sex from your soul and your gut; I want it hard and violent. I want you to be the unbridled force that soothes every wound and rip free every fantasy.”