So quick thing about me. I'm the office alt girl. Tattoos, dark lipstick, chunky jewelry, band shirts under my blazer when I can get away with it. Big tits that I've stopped pretending to hide because minimizer bras are a scam and life's too short. I know I stick out in a corporate office and I'm fine with it. Most of my coworkers don't know what to do with me.
Now there's this guy. Different department. Quiet, glasses, always has his headphones in. The kind of guy who brings his own lunch in a container and eats at his desk reading something on his phone. We've talked maybe a dozen times in the year I've been working here. Morning greetings, small talk in the pantry, one time he helped me fix a formula in excel and his arm brushed mine and I caught him glance down at my chest for half a second before snapping back to the screen and turning red. I thought about that for three days. But I never made a move because he seemed like the type who'd apologize for bumping into a door. Especially around someone who looks like me.
Holiday party. Wednesday night. Open bar, loud music, everyone getting messy. I was in a black wrap dress that hit mid-thigh and my tits looked ridiculous in it, spilling-out-of-the-neckline ridiculous. He was in slacks and a button-down with the sleeves rolled up and I'd never seen his forearms before and they did not match the guy who color-codes his spreadsheets.
We ended up at the bar together and he's actually funny with a few drinks in him. Dry deadpan humor I didn't see coming. He said something about my collarbone tattoo and reached out and traced the line of it with his finger then pulled back like he'd touched a stove. I grabbed his hand and put it back and said "it's fine, you can look." His eyes went from the tattoo to my cleavage to my face and I watched his throat move when he swallowed.
He leaned into my ear and said "do you want to go somewhere quieter" and his breath on my neck made my pussy clench so hard I almost dropped my glass. I didn't expect that from him. At all.
Office floor. Empty, dark, door locked. Bass from the party vibrating through the floor below us.
He kissed me against the wall and it was NOT the kiss I expected from this man. His hands went to my jaw, then my neck, then both hands full of my tits through the dress, squeezing them, thumbs dragging hard across my nipples. I moaned into his mouth and I felt him smile against my lips. This fucking nerd SMILED because he made me moan. I dropped to my knees and pulled him out and he was thick and hard and leaking and I remember thinking are you kidding me, this guy has been sitting twenty feet from me for a YEAR with this cock?
I sucked him slow. Dark lipstick smearing along his shaft, spit building up, taking him deeper until my eyes watered. His hand went to the back of my head and he didn't push, he GUIDED, applying pressure exactly when I needed it, like he knew my rhythm better than I did. When he came in my mouth his fingers tightened in my hair and his thighs trembled and I swallowed every drop and looked up at him and his glasses were fogged and there were black lipstick rings halfway down his cock. This man who eats lunch at his desk just came down my throat and his hand was still steady on my head. I was already reconsidering everything I thought I knew about quiet guys.
Then he pulled me up and walked me to my desk and bent me face down over it. Hiked my dress up, pulled my leggings and panties to my knees, and pinned both my wrists behind my back with one hand. Just like that. No hesitation. No fumbling. My tits were pressed flat against the desk and I could feel the cold surface through the thin dress fabric.
His free hand slid between my legs. Two fingers on my clit first, slow and precise, then inside me, curling upward against the spot that makes my legs give out. I bit my own arm to stay quiet. He fingered me until I came so hard my thighs shook against the desk edge and I was gasping into the wood.
Then he fucked me. Same position, wrists pinned, his other hand reaching under to grab my tit, rolling my nipple while he pushed into me deep with these slow controlled strokes. Every thrust made the desk creak and every creak made me wetter. I told him he was bigger than I expected and he laughed this quiet laugh against my shoulder, not cocky, almost surprised I said it out loud, and it made me clench around him so tight he groaned. He came inside me (birth control, it's handled) and his forehead dropped against my back and he stayed there breathing for a minute.
He pulled out and let go of my wrists. I kicked my leggings and panties off the rest of the way because they were tangled at my ankles and soaked anyway. When I turned around I grabbed his collar and started unbuttoning his shirt because I wasn't done with him and I wanted skin. He helped with the last two buttons and shrugged it off and his chest was leaner than I expected, not built but defined, a faint trail of hair running down his stomach, and I put my hands flat on him just to feel it.
He lifted me onto the desk, untied my wrap dress, and it fell open. My tits out, my tattoos on full display, and he just looked at me like he was cataloging every detail for later. Then his mouth was on my collarbone, my neck, down to my tits, sucking my nipple while his fingers slid back between my legs, spreading his own cum around my clit. I was gripping the desk edge and making sounds I've never made at work. He fucked me again right there, my legs around his bare waist, my tits pressed against his chest, his glasses on the desk beside my hip where they'd fallen off.
He came a second time and when he pulled out it dripped down my inner thigh onto the desk surface.
We cleaned up. He picked up his glasses and put them back on and buttoned his shirt and looked at me and said "I've been thinking about this since the excel formula." His eyes dropped to the lipstick stains still on his cock before he tucked himself in. I re-tied my dress, pulled my damp leggings on with no underwear because my panties were beyond saving, checked my lipstick in my phone camera. Back to the party separately. Forty minutes. Nobody noticed.
Monday morning he was at his desk, headphones in, lunch container, like nothing happened. He looked up when I walked past and adjusted his glasses and I had to sit in the bathroom for five minutes because one look from this man made me so wet I couldn't function.
He sent me an excel file yesterday that said "thought you might need help with this formula again." I'm wearing my lowest cut top Monday. This nerd has absolutely no idea what he started but I'm going to make sure he finishes it.
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