We started a long way apart. Just an initial comment, followed up by enquiring questions. The attraction was immediate – an underlying inquisitiveness about looks, preferences, sexual appetite. And the pictures.
Oh Fuck. The pictures.
First, innocence. Just jeans and a casual top… but more than a hint of cleavage. And those jeans – tight, well-fitted, slim legs. Oh yes, she had my attention straight away. I had to reciprocate, and she had the advantage – my HNTs giving her a preview of what to expect, and leaving little room to maneuver in terms of what she’d want to see next.
But as the words spilled forth, things were different from other ‘encounters’. She was sexy, arousing and, well, so pliable. She asked what I wanted, and within no time was complying with every request. My porn fantasies, being acted out on camera, at my behest, not just without question, but with eagerness that I’ve never experienced before. Within days, she was my plaything, wearing different lingerie, sometimes wearing none at all. Every time doing my bidding, and every time turning me on more and more. And as we shared fantasies about what we wanted to do to each other, I spent hours with my cock raging hard, images of her scantily-clad body racing through my mind. But she was so far away, so out of reach – as I wanked myself sore over her pictures and words, I knew it would remain a fantasy. The closest she’d get to my cock would be the pictures I sent her of me naked, the video I took of me coming for her.
Except.
Except that suddenly the distance is closing. We’re rushing towards each other, hurtling – the closing speed creating a blur, everything out of focus, until we collide.
And suddenly, after all the words, all the pictures, all the talk of kissing, licking, squeezing, caressing, stroking, rubbing, sucking and fucking – suddenly we’re there, in the same room. Her eyes sparkle as I arrive, her wild tousled hair full of fire, her soft lips smiling as I move close and push my lips onto hers, kissing her hard, unexpectedly, my tongue flicking across her lips. Startled, but eyes sparkling, she sits, her blouse unbuttoned to the high waist of her pencil skirt, awarding me a perfect view of her pretty lace bra and neat, pert cleavage. My eyes are drawn to her skin and breasts, but dart to her lips, eyes and neck, knowing I can look, but can’t touch – yet. I’ve seen the outfit so many times, sometimes half discarded, sometimes unbuttoned or sometimes the skirt pulled up to reveal the delights beneath, just as I instructed. But now, somehow seeing it there, real, at arm’s-length is so much more arousing – even though most of her sexy body is covered.
We talk, nervously for the first few moments, but tension easing as we both sense that there are no shocks, nothing unexpected, and everything is better than we could have predicted. Our hands occasionally brush one and other; as she plays footsie under the table, and her cool slim fingers trail across my knee, we both glance around, conscious of the risk, but the sensation heightened – every contact savoured, every morsel of skin-on-skin a tiny appetiser.
And before we know it time has outrun us, and the constraints of work and secrecy force us apart again. But not before we steal a kiss – and oh my, what a kiss. Pushed up against her firm body, I feel her breasts pressed to my chest, her needy arms around my waist and my stiff, thumping cock driven up against her navel. We’re closer than we’ve been before, just a thin veil of fabric separating us, our lips pressed together and tongues entwined for an instant. And then we break, both knowing there are too many eyes, and we’ve already gone too far. The want, desire, need reaches a crescendo just at the point where we must part, just at the point where both feel we’re bound together physically by some unseen gravitation hold.
As I walk back to my office, savouring the remnants of her taste, scent and touch, my balls ache and my stiff-for-too-long cock complains about the lack of attention it’s received.
But although we bounced apart today, like all objects attracted by universal forces we’re already being pulled together again, on collision course, at high velocity. And this time, behind closed doors, with clothes shed and breathless excitement, nothing will come between us.



