Colleague L...

When you work with someone in a team and communicate well, you start to get to know the person better and better. So it is with this girl; we've been talking for a very long time. Divorced, kicked her husband out of the house quite a while ago, then didn't start any new relationships for a long time, and occasional men appeared very rarely. As a result, she's in such a state that it's better not to talk or think about sex at all (though I always doubted she managed that, especially with my participation and constant jokes). It's so funny sometimes in our Lotus chats to drop little phrases that made her grit her teeth. Word by word. L. would even periodically turn off Lotus out of spite and wouldn't turn it on until

the next day, so as not to get distracted and work in peace. Funny, but the next day she would read everything I wrote. 🙂 And I also pestered her with messages from the Windows sender. Almost harmless teasing.

I should also say that she is very sensitive to pressure changes, so at least 2-3 times a week she complains of a headache. Once she was feeling really bad and I decided to help. Middle and index finger to the temple, the other hand on the other side. Close your eyes and feel her pain with your fingertips. Then it gets hot in both hands, the heat rises higher. 5 minutes, sometimes 10, and I start to feel dizzy. Lightly. I want to sit in my chair and drink coffee. And her pain goes away. That's how I used to treat my sister back in childhood. And I just remembered it here. I just have the ability to feel other people's pain and I get slightly drunk from it. It was always like that, I learned to absorb others' pain like a little vampire and it always turned me on.

And L. liked this method of treating headaches and I practiced it more and more often. So yesterday I squeezed her temples again. It was already the end of the workday and everyone had left. She always asked me to treat her only when no one could see. And now she could barely wait for the evening. When I opened my eyes, I saw how she slightly tilted her head back and completely relaxed. The sweater with a décolleté hugged her breasts, pulled into a bra. She always wore such lingerie that her breasts rose in charming rounded shapes towards the décolleté. Considering the third size, very tempting. And this time I even felt a slight tremor of desire inside. I wanted to touch her skin with my lips and teeth, squeeze, bite, so she couldn't hold back a cry. I WANT HER! And how to fight this desire?

"Wait a minute?" I whispered. I couldn't have said it louder, my voice would have trembled or broken.

A week ago, they gave out first aid kits. They give them to us periodically, change them. Often it's easier to distribute the medicines to homes than to use them on the spot. And this time, there was an interesting thing in the kit: a rubber strip approximately 60x20x5, with a metal ring with a lock on each side, through which a nylon tape about 30 cm long is threaded. A device for stopping bleeding. It tightens in an instant, locks, and is very hard to loosen—the more you pull, the tighter it gets.

"Relax. Are you in a hurry today?"

"I want to go to bed early, rest."

Her voice was calm. And yet she trusts me. I massaged her shoulders, she even shuddered—the transition to her neck is very sensitive—she herself admitted that it instantly turns her on. She hid little from me, but kept her distance, citing that I have a family. I had to restrain myself, but I understood I wouldn't hold back this time. I stroked her hands. Probably she relaxed so much because the hunger was already hard to bear. I stroked her hands, moving down from the shoulders to the wrists, brought them together and carefully threaded them through the loop. A moment. And her hands were tied behind the back of the chair. She jerked.

"What are you doing?"

"Shh."

"Let me go immediately! I'll scream!"

"Scream. You already argued with the department head on Monday. She'll be glad if she can hurt you somehow more."

L. fell silent. I walked around her and looked into her eyes. She stared at me without looking away.

"Maybe you'll stop joking?"

"I'm not joking."

I had already unbuttoned her pants and pulled them down.

"Stop!"

"If you jerk around too much, I'll tie your legs too. Stand up!"

She was silent but didn't follow the order. Well, I had to spend a bit more effort. Though she didn't resist much, it was more like playing at resistance. Pants, tights. Though she protested a bit more about the panties and even started to resist.

"Okay, let's do it differently."

I took her tights in my hands. Tied them together roughly in the middle with three knots. She watched, trying to understand what I was doing. I gathered the upper part up to the knot into a ball and brought it to her mouth; she immediately tightly pressed her lips together, understanding that the tights had turned into a gag. I smirked and forcefully spread her knees apart with my legs, stood between them so she couldn't close them. Slid my hand under her panties.

"You're already wet! How interesting!"—my index finger penetrated inside—"And you're still resisting? Well, I want you to ask me to enter yourself."

Pulled up the sweater, bra down. Bare breasts. Of course, not a girl anymore, but looks very juicy and appetizing. Squeeze the breast forcefully, slide to the nipples and squeeze, twist. She moaned from pleasure or pain, I didn't think about it anymore. It's hard to explain logically why I like to caress and strongly squeeze a woman's breasts... just DESIRE.

Knead, fondle, torment the nipples and take them in my mouth. I tried to take in as much as I could, then my teeth sank into the skin. I WANT! Fingers squeezed the nipple of the other breast and pulled it up—to the side, while twisting. I'll have to leave tooth marks on it too. But for now, teeth clenched the nipple. Got carried away, even got scared later that I might bite it off. But bruises appeared. Let go and slap it backhand so the flesh sways. Again! L. cried out with each slap. Her breasts were already pink. Again!

"I just can't forget when you said you love hard sex, sex on the edge!" I whispered. She sat with clenched teeth—"Lift both legs onto the armrests!"

She hesitated. I wasn't in a hurry either, but looked into her eyes. 5 seconds of silence and she finally did it. YES! Such relief in my soul. Although, up to that moment there was still jitters and adrenaline. How charming she looked in the office chair. Legs spread to the sides, opening her pussy. Sweater pulled up, bra lowered and breasts also completely bare. She doesn't look me in the eyes, lowered her gaze and stared at the floor, ears pink and probably very hot.

"You even shaved"—I stroked her flesh, actually smooth, not a single bristle anywhere—"do you do it often?"

"I had an epilation yesterday," L. whispered in reply.

I once tried an epilator, on my arm though. Just out of curiosity, was interested in what kind of hellish machine was created by bourgeois engineers. Unpleasant, though not exactly painful, but unpleasant. And here a girl epilated the most delicate part of her body. I had only heard about such things, but here I met someone who experienced it herself. A completely smooth crotch. I knelt down and spread her lips with my fingers. Already wet. Hungry bitch! My head was getting foggy. After all, I also haven't forgotten what a "diet" is. In my temples, a hot pulse beat "I want!". Fingers squeezed the clitoris. The female body shuddered and a slight tremor ran through her legs as I played with the "magic button." Over time, a wet spot appeared on the chair, slowly growing.

"Please!"—L. leaned back in the chair and threw her head back—"Please, take me, don't torment me!"

A finger from my free hand touched the entrance, the girl pushed her hips forward, trying to capture the finger with her pussy. Only after that did I stand up and step away, sat on the table and unbuttoned my pants, freeing my cock. It had been hard for a long time and was craving release. She quickly understood the hint and lowered her legs to wheel the chair closer. How a hungry woman gives a blowjob! Completely different. There's no playfulness, she's like she's fucking her own mouth, and she herself is on the verge of orgasm. Gagging, as if unexpectedly for herself she takes it too deep, licks it and takes it in her mouth again. No hands, but her head flutters with unreal speed. Very rarely have women managed to bring me to orgasm with a blowjob, and this one couldn't succeed either. In the future, I'll have to teach her to do it the way I like. Although, I could enjoy these caresses non-stop.

Now I'm describing this and remembering them with delight. I'll have to practice: write while she's under the table. But back then, I still stopped her, pulled her away by the hair and looked into her eyes. I had never seen such a thing before, pleading eyes, as if with the blowjob she was bringing not me but herself to orgasm, and I stopped her at the most interesting part.

"And why haven't I come yet? You're not trying hard enough!"

"I..."—and at that moment I stuffed the gag into her mouth. The nylon tights I had prepared earlier. The nylon spread in her mouth, muffling all sounds and hindering her tongue, and I tightly tied the "legs" behind her head.

Lifted her from the chair, without freeing her hands, and laid her stomach down across the table. It turned out so that her legs were on the floor, and her head hung off the other side of the table. L. is not tall and her legs are not from her ears, even a little plump, but in perfect condition. I often remembered her story about anti-cellulite massage (quite the heroism, proven by one big bruise from heels to waist), also workouts in the gym and a sea of cosmetics ordered from Oriflame, Avon and other companies, catalogs that are widely distributed among the female staff.

My palm rang out loudly against her ass. I didn't even expect such noise. Although, at that time we never had visitors, and the entrance door is blocked by a jungle of potted plants.

"Did you like sucking?"—L. nodded and shuddered again, though now not from the blow, but because I shoved my thumb into her—"And I would have liked it if I had come. Is that clear?"

And again I slapped my palm, only on the other half. My hand left a wet mark on her ass. I followed by entering her pussy with my index and middle fingers, gathering moisture and again slapped her buttock, leaving a shiny trail and a red palm print, terribly aroused. I was ready to come even not from the blowjob, but just from looking at L. with a pink ass. And how much longer can I endure? I entered her in one motion. Entered and froze, fighting back the wave of approaching orgasm—I hate coming quickly, no pleasure, only disappointment afterwards. Overcame it and only then started to fuck. First slowly, pulling out completely and plunging to the end, still figuring out my sensations, then accelerating faster and faster. She was no longer just moaning, her body jerked strangely, as if I wasn't fucking her but whipping her. She arched, tried to move in rhythm, and convulsively jerked. I hadn't seen that before, but I noticed her hands, the palms under the binding were already turning bluish. I stopped and untied it, though my own hands were shaking and it took more than one try to loosen the clamp.

And she couldn't stop, continuing to impale herself on the cock, everything inside her kept clenching, and I couldn't hold back.

"Are you on birth control?"

She shook her head negatively. I sharply pulled out of her, by the hair put her on her knees and tore off the gag. Her legs wouldn't hold, I plopped into her chair, and she was already working with her mouth. Or rather, she just took my cock and immediately caught the first stream. Didn't stop, her mouth worked and her hands too. She swallowed and kept sucking. The biggest thrill is when you can't take it anymore and you don't scream only because you've sunk your teeth into your own hand, and she still doesn't stop. I tried to pull her away by the hair, but in vain. Then I managed to inhale, teeth released my palm and with both hands I tore L. away from me. Tore her away and let go. Lay in the chair breathing deeply, and she put her head on my knees, gently squeezing my cock with her hand.

"Thank you," her voice whispered. And I couldn't answer anything.