May bends over his desk

“I have to be inside you,” Elliott said.

She let him take his cock out of her mouth. A line of spit stretched between her lips and his head. “Yeah,” she said, barely able to string a thought together. She stumbled to her feet and loosened her trousers enough that they could fall around her ankles. Then she bent herself over his desk, unbothered by the fact that still-drying paint was everywhere and his current work was pinned to the top. If paint got on her chest she wouldn’t mind at all.

He was behind her, and she felt him tap his cock against her ass. “Your body is amazing,” he panted.

That was the fruit of all her stationary bike classes, May thought. Great legs, an even nicer butt, and the stamina to fuck all night long. Not that Roger appreciated any of the three. She pushed her ass out for him to appreciate and realized she was still in her heels. It had been years since anyone had fucked her in heels. She decided to keep them on as she kicked her trousers off into one of the corners of the studio. “Do whatever you want with it,” she said.

He obliged. Putting his hands on her hips, he guided his cock into her. She moaned. That first thrust was sublime magic, every time. It was even better with a stranger, she thought. He took it slowly at first. Thrusting with a regular but restrained rhythm. In response to her moans he picked up the pace, pressing his fingers tighter against her skin, hard enough almost to bruise. Bruise me, she wanted to say, have your way with me. It’s not like Roger would ever see it, or notice it, even if he did. Mark me as yours, she thought. I want to be someone’s.

He grabbed hold of her hair and pulled it so that she had to straighten her back. It was like someone had shot her full of adrenaline. Her mouth hung open, and she felt drool running down her chin. He had made her thirsty in every sense of the word. Only a few hours ago she had been in her home, alone, on that stupid bike like she was every afternoon. He had given her only a few words, a compliment or two, and now she allowed him inside her. Good, she thought. Someone should be.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted. Each thrust was shorter and faster than the last. In the depths of her memory she recognized this sensation. He was close. She twisted herself halfway around so that he could kiss her. With his tongue in her mouth his cock twitched inside her. Once, then twice, and then came the wave of warmth. His cum filled her, and she was happy.

When it was over, he collapsed on top of her. Their breaths came in ragged gasps. Her eyes closed as she tried to steady herself. Elliott’s hand stroked her hair, his touch almost gentle now. “Are you okay?” he asked.

She opened her eyes and looked back at him, her heart still racing. “Yes,” she said. “I am.”