He was the loud one now, grunting a bit which each thrust. I was already worrying as I picked out my outfit — a snug black pencil skirt, a semi-sheer black top, black nylons, and black stilettos. By the time I went home to shower and change I was extremely keyed up.
I expected no response, or at least I must have not expected a response because I was surprised when I heard my phone buzz a few minutes later. I was already in bed that night when I got a text from an unknown number: Will you be able to keep quiet while I fuck you in the office? Is I had been looking forward to the office Christmas party for a different reason than all of my boring coworkers: As we moved towards the door I saw him stop to pick up my thong and place it into his pocket. It kept me quiet and gave me something to focus on and his immediate groan told me he loved it. The slight taste of him in my mouth while pushing me close to the edge. He sent an email out this morning. Feeling awkward about just standing there while he touched me I leaned forward to kiss him. Finally, I just went with something that seemed even remotely plausible: In the morning, as I pulled on my new skirt and straightened the shirt I was wearing with it I felt more nervous than I could remember being. I remembered the events of the previous night, Jack coming in to his office where I was supposed to be working late and instead catching me at his desk, touching myself and envisioning his masculine hand between my legs instead of my own. He looked very sexy like that, both playful and poised. Last minute trip for the DRI client. His other hand was around my thigh, holding me close while I tried to keep them tight around his waist. I needed to be a few cocktails deep to calm my nerves. I moaned a bit before I got a hold of himself and he covered my mouth tightly with one of his hands. That was a flirtatious text. I walked to his desk and perched myself on the edge of it, trying my best to look sophisticated. When he arrived I was buzzed enough to be bold. Jack was always a weird combination of mysterious and forthright. I thought maybe I looked like a silly, hopeful little girl, so I switched to just ignoring him. He removed himself from me and zipped himself up while I pushed my dress down and tried to straighten the wrinkles out that had formed in the last few minutes. I wanted to please him enough to learn more. He was blunt and honest whenever I asked him about something, but he never shared without prodding. Emboldened by his response, I sent him a message back detailing the thigh high component of the outfit. Luckily I found the perfect almost knee-length but flouncy black skirt I could wear with a thin sweater tucked into it.
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