Playing in my husband's office

What exactly is marriage? It started like a dream come true. Case was hired as a new partner at a long-established law firm, we bought a new apartment, and we got married. It was wonderful. Every day, I couldn't wait to get home from work and climb into our warm bed together.

But after a few weeks, the passion and frequency of our lovemaking decreased. We went from twice a day, once a day, to once a week, and finally it became, "Honey, let's see which celebrity is on Talk Show tonight." Afraid of hurting our feelings, neither of us dared to bring it up, yet it was clear we were both bored—not bored with each other, but unable to bear always being in the same place, doing the same things.

This wasn't the outcome I had hoped for after years of dating. I often found my mind drifting back to those beautiful days, those passionate sexual encounters where we almost got caught, the strange thrill of adventure in a dangerous place.

Since I usually got off work earlier than Case, I would go to his office to pick him up every evening, waiting for him in the car outside. But this Friday, after special preparation, I went upstairs. It was my first time stepping into this company since he started working here two weeks before our wedding.

It was truly elegant. The receptionist, a pleasant and well-mannered middle-aged woman, guided me to his office in an almost whispered tone. I strolled through a grand office suite, admiring the dark wood carvings and luxurious furniture. The entire company smelled of furniture polish, fine leather, and money.

As my heels clicked across the gleaming floor, several handsome men glanced at me from behind their desks. Despite wearing a long leather coat, I felt quite attractive and conspicuous. When I found Case's office, went in, and closed the door, my nipples hardened, and I felt a wet, burning sensation between my legs. He was leaning back in his chair on the phone, a little surprised to see me, but gestured for me to find a chair. He continued his discussion, outlining the key points of a litigation opportunity; clearly, the person on the other end knew more about what he was saying than I did.

I stood across from his desk, leaning forward to greet him with a kiss. I ran my tongue across his lips, and he gave me a strange look before returning to his phone conversation.

I sat on his desk, kicked off one of my high heels, and stretched my foot up to his face, gently touching his cheek with my stockinged toes, trying to distract him. I first stroked his chin, then slowly ran my thumb along his lips, playfully slipping it inside to touch his tongue.

Case began to lose his composure; his train of thought, which had been driving the discussion, was derailing. He began to cooperate with my playfulness, holding my foot in his hands, showering my soles with passionate kisses, and lightly nibbling at my brightly painted toenails. In his eyes, I saw an excitement I hadn't seen in months. I placed my feet between his legs, curling my toes to envelop his erection—already thick and hard.

He covered the receiver and whispered to me, "Lock the door," a sly grin on his face.

"Don't be silly," I replied, putting my shoes back on and stepping away from my desk. I loosened the belt of my leather coat, letting it slip from my shoulders to the floor.

I guessed the phone in Case's hand might fall.

Before leaving my office, I slipped into the restroom and stripped naked, bra and panties. Now, standing before him, I was wearing only black lace garter belts, smoky black stockings, and black high heels. I pushed his chair back from the desk and knelt between his knees.

Now, all that could be heard on his end of the phone was monosyllabic humming, his eyes darting frantically between me and the door.

It was around 5 p.m. His colleagues were starting to leave the office; we could hear their laughter and chatter as they hurried out of the lobby and see their distorted silhouettes reflected in the carved windows as they passed by.

"Look at the time!" Case stammered into the phone as I unzipped his pants, releasing his eager penis. "How about I call you back first thing Monday morning?" As he hung up, my tongue began swirling and teasing his smooth, purplish-red glans.

As I licked and probed his slightly salty opening with my tongue, he murmured softly, "You little devil! What if someone comes in?"

I ignored him, moistened my lips, opened my mouth, and slowly pushed his penis in completely.

He shook his head incredulously, running his fingers through my short hair and applying slight pressure behind my head. "Who cares?" he grinned, "At worst, I'll lose my job." I enveloped his shaft, moving rhythmically up and down, while he twisted and writh in his seat, gripping the armrests of the leather chair, clenching his teeth and holding his breath to avoid making a loud moan. I held onto his thighs, took a deep breath, relaxed my throat muscles, and slid his thick, long penis deep inside me. I felt his mushroom-shaped glans push past my throat until my nose was buried between his silky pubic hair. It was so deep, it felt as if his soft yet firm glans was buried between my breasts.

My ears seemed to be drowned out by the sound of waves. Suddenly, I heard him whisper urgently to me. I opened my eyes and heard someone gently knocking on the door. "Case?" a male voice came through the window. "Are you still in the office?"

Case became extremely nervous. He started to push me away, but he was powerless. I reached out and squeezed his testicles. His body stiffened, and he began to ejaculate. I immediately tried to swallow wave after wave of his thick, hot semen. I tried my best to swallow faster, but some still spilled out of my mouth and ran down my chin.

Another knock on the door. "Case?"

We stared silently at the unlocked door, sprawled there in the most obscene position, waiting for someone to turn the handle and come in. But he didn't; the blurry figure disappeared through the window.

Case let out a huge sigh of relief. "God, do you know who that was?" I shook my head, wiping a drop of thick, white semen from my chin with my finger, then licking it clean.

"That's our company boss," he declared solemnly, pulling me up. His words sounded serious, and I thought he was angry, but he began kissing me, nuzzling my neck with his nose, kneading my breasts, and squeezing and twisting my swollen nipples. I

straddled him, wrapping my arms around his neck, rubbing my wet pussy against his body. His penis was still wet and covered in my saliva, with a drop of sweet semen at the tip, but it was starting to rise again, full of life. This feeling of almost climaxing excited us both.

Case smiled and lifted me onto his desk, making me lie down. Papers, reports, and folders were scattered all over the floor. I spread my legs and thrust them towards him, guiding his hard, erect penis between my wet labia with my hands. I bent my legs and hooked them around him, my high heels pressing against his thighs, raising my hips high to receive his vigorous thrusts, while my vagina rhythmically contracted and enveloped his shaft.

As he piston-like thrusts and withdrawals, his penis seemed to grow larger and larger. The desk shook, and a photo frame with my beautiful picture fell to the floor. The friction on my burning clitoris, and the way he sucked on my nipples—the twisting, sucking on the tender buds until it caused unbearable pain—pushed me straight to the peak of lust. Throughout the whole process, we could hear the cleaning crew moving towards us from the lobby, emptying trash cans and laughing and joking, getting closer and closer.

"What's with us and the manager?"

Case asked with a low, snickering laugh, as he thrust in hard.

Before I could answer his question, our shared climax had overwhelmed us both. Waves of pleasure washed over me, and as he ejaculated deep inside me, I trembled from head to toe. His overflowing semen dripped from my buttocks onto the desk.

Just as I was fastening my coat belt, and Case was picking up the things scattered on the floor by our passion, we heard steady footsteps approaching from the lobby. This wasn't the building manager.

Suddenly, a gray-haired elderly man who looked like a VIP poked his head into the office. From Case's reaction, I immediately knew he was the owner; it was him who had knocked earlier. Case's face drained of color.

"I think I heard someone here," the old man said, glancing at the photograph lying on the floor, then at me, and immediately making the appropriate connection. “I knocked on your door not long ago; you should have heard me.” “I was talking business with a client, boss,” Case said. “You know me, all I think about is—work, work, work.”

“I admire your diligence,” his boss said, glancing at his watch. “But work without leisure will turn Jack into a dullard.” His eyes shifted to me. “You should be ashamed to have kept such a beautiful lady waiting. If she were waiting for me, I wouldn’t be working so late; I’d go home and have some fun.”

As he turned to leave, he smiled at me, a sly glint in his eyes; he knew what had happened.

We stayed up all night, reliving the sweetness we had almost forgotten. All the passion was back. Some time later, when we felt the passion waning again, Case surprised me at my workplace with lunch—and each other, right there at the conference room table, while my colleagues worked at their desks next door, completely unaware of what was happening before their eyes.

Most people will never understand why we dare to risk our reputations for pleasures that ordinary people can find in the privacy of their own bedrooms. We are fully aware of the potential negative consequences of being caught in the wrong place or by the wrong people; not everyone is as understanding as Case's boss. But it is precisely this real danger of exposure that increases our excitement, the adrenaline rush that makes us more energetic, and we become deeply addicted to it.

[The End]

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Playing in my husband's office

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