Pardon My Frottage by Meghan Boehners

Author:Meghan Boehners
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: erotica, frottage, frotteur
Publisher: Meghan Boehners

THE END

A Sample from Double Entry at the Office:

His neck was like granite under silk, the skin so smooth I almost cried with the sheer luxury of being allowed to touch it. Tight cords of muscle slid under the tan skin, and as I kneaded and stroked, he relaxed visibly, then audibly as he exhaled. One [art of him tightened, though. His sweat pants were leaving nothing to the imagination, and as his cock rose I gasped involuntarily. It was that big.

Oh, God, my pussy ached for that in me. A small moan escaped through my parted lips, and then I noticed Jim's eyes were watching me as I stared at his crotch.

He flipped me, suddenly, into his lap, and the tip of his cock pushed against my ass. Hungry lips ate mine, possessing me like an animal claims another during mating season. I wanted him to mount me, to pound that huge cock in me, to slap his balls against my taint and slip a finger in my ass, finger my clit and make me howl at the moon, exploding. As his lips and tongue penetrated into me, nearly pinning me to his possessive hand that now slid through my hair like the folds of my vulva, teasing and owning, I realized one hand had already slipped under my skirt,

One swift move and those muscled hands, so skilled with a football, ripped my panties and flung them across his desk, landing, oddly enough, on a report about bull semen.

One finger plunged into my soaking pussy and I shifted in his lap, ready to straddle him. "Not yet," he hissed against my neck, a warm teasing voice a promise to draw this out. He turned and hooked his finger up to stroke my G spot and I cried out, ready to climax.

But he had other plans.

One arm stretched out and swept everything off his desk, the mess making a series of dull thuds on the carpeted floor. Then he hauled me up as if I were a feather pillow, spread my legs wide, and dove his face into me, tongue fucking me like he was a starving man and I was a smorgasboard.

My climax was so close, so close, and I dug my hips into his face, hands reaching behind his head to push his tongue into me. He sucked my clit and stuffed two, no three, fingers inside my aching hole, filling it just enough to bring me to the edge but not enough. I needed that big cock in me.

If I was a buffet, then his fingers were just an appetizer.

"Please, Mr. Michaels. Please fuck me," I whimpered. I looked up and saw my reflection in the mirror behind his desk. My pink, red pussy was dripping with juices, smearing his desk and begging for him to plunge into me.

"Oh, Alicia, I'll get there," he said, pulling down his sweatpants. "But most women need a little preparation before they can get some of this....”

Read how it all ends (or, rather, how Alicia gets in it the end.

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