She sat at her computer, typing furiously, and at the sound of the key in the door, it did nothing but hurry her wild thoughts along. Writing these things she could never ask for, she loved her writing, living through those people in her head. The slave girl taken at every opportunity, and used in such a way could make most men blush, the maid in the house whose chambers were invaded at night, a hand over her mouth to muffle her pleasured screams. Last but not least, and her personal favorite, the secretary that gets locked in the conference room. The man in charge approaches her, makes an offer he knows she can’t refuse as she’s backed into the table, his hands surprisingly rough as they slide up over her thighs unsnapping the garters underneath her skirt, she lets out a soft moan and a halfhearted attempt at “no”.
And as this woman sits there, typing about this woman she yearns to be and the feel of this man’s fingers sliding over the thin fabric the separates skin from skin before he rips them off at the crotch sinking his teeth into her neck along with two fingers in her soaking wet pussy, she stops and smiles to herself. Pussy. Her husband would faint if she ever used that word. She sits for a moment listening, hears the tv come one and knows she safe to her fantasies a while before he realizes there’s no drink awaiting him. She turns back to the screen and continues to type about the secretary who unconsciously slides up onto the desk returning bites and moans, kissing and licking all visible and touchable flesh on her CEO she can, grasping furiously at his pants to undo a belt buckle and button before almost ripping them off him in frustration.
The secretary tastes his smile as he softly laughs and releases the hank of hair he was holding her by to pull his pants down just to his thighs before pushing the secretary back flat against the table and one slick seamless movement buries his cock inside her and she screams, no one is around so he encourages this, naming her his little slut, tugging her nipples and making each thrust of his hips count and just as they are both about to cum in a pile of clothes soaked in sweat, she has to stop typing as she hears it from downstairs, “hey babe? You making dinner or am I ordering pizza?”. She sighs and leaves the story right there so she has something to think about later after they have their respectful goodnights and kisses on the cheek. What’s now sadly her favorite time, once his breathing is even the time to sneak off and pleasure herself.
“No I’ll be there in a second.” She once again hits save and closes down the laptop rubbing it affectionately before plastering on yet again her smile of quiet desperation hoping tonight will be the night he changes his mind and touches her again, the way he used to, the way he looked at her what feels like lifetimes ago. She’s made the efforts everyone has recommended but how scary it is out there. In the unknown. Halfway down the stairs she adjusts a slightly crooked photo on the wall and takes her last steadying breath before hitting the bottom step “Hello dear, how was work today?”
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