A Passion for Work
Erotic fiction by Michele London
You stare at the screen with something very like hatred on your face, amazed that the damn machine has frozen up, again, and now mocks you with your half finished report just sitting there, staring back at you, completely unworkable.
You’d wanted to get a least a draft done tonight, but it looks like that’s not going to happen now. And with everyone else already gone home for the evening, you might as well head home too, and see if IT can help in the morning.
You start packing up your things, but it occurs to you that Ryan, the IT manager, usually gets in long before you do in the mornings. Maybe you should leave him a voicemail, and with any luck, he’ll have sorted out your computer before you even walk in the door.
Perched on the desk in your cramped cubicle, you pick up the phone and punch in Ryan’s extension, drumming your fingers on the desk as you want for it to ring through to his voicemail.
“Oh. Hi. What are you still doing here?”
“What are you still doing here?” he replies.
“Ugh, trying to finish this monthly report. My computer keeps freezing, I was just going to leave you a voicemail and deal with it in the morning, but—“
“I can come up now, no problem. I’ll be right there.”
You hang up the phone, and bite your lip. Great. Ryan is coming up to help you work on your computer. You really shouldn’t be getting so flustered over it, he’s a colleague for god’s sake. Even if he is the hottest IT guy on the planet he’s also a coworker and therefore completely and absolutely off limits.
You dive into your purse and pull out a mirror, checking for any obvious flaws and giving your nose a swipe of powder, hating yourself a little bit for doing it but shushing your self consciousness with a reminder that there’s no one left in the office to see you do it and start asking embarrassing questions.
Anyway, it’s just a silly crush, you know you’re not going to act on it, so where’s the harm in boosting your confidence a bit before he gets there?
You have just enough time to slick on some fruity lip gloss and stash it back in your bag before the elevator dings, and you know he’s here. You plop back in your chair and try to look as annoyed as you were five minutes ago, before you went all ridiculous.
“Hey, how’s it going?” he says as he saunters up.
He’s wearing jeans today, with a blue button-up shirt and brown shoes. And glasses. Always those glasses. You smile and remind yourself not to check out his groin.
“Well, I’m okay, but this computer must hate me,” you reply.
“Nah, it’s probably just trying to do updates or something. They’re usually scheduled to run them at night when most people have left.”
He leans over your shoulder and takes control of the mouse, clicking through menus and windows as if his face wasn’t so close to yours that you can smell his aftershave.
Neither one of you speaks as Ryan does his thing with your computer. You keep thinking you should say something, make some joke about both of you being suckers for working so late, but you don't want to break his concentration.
You tuck a lock of hair behind your ear and try not to enjoy the scent of his cologne so much. His shoulder brushes up against yours as he moves the mouse across the screen.
“Do you want to sit here?” you ask.
“No, that’s okay. I think this thing needs to restart and install some updates. It should take about ten minutes, is that okay?”
A few clicks later the screen has gone black. Ryan starts to get down on his knees. “I just need to restart the tower,” he says, pointing to the object under your desk.
You slide your chair out and stand up. For a moment, Ryan is kneeling on the ground under your desk, and since you know he can’t see you, you check out his perfect ass in those jeans. It’s so unlike you, you’re not even usually an ass kind of girl. But damn if his isn’t sexy.
“Okay,” he says, “all set.”
He pops back up so fast that you’re certain he caught you staring and you stumble backwards, flustered. The leg of your chair catches your good and you start to fall.
“Oh shit, you okay?”
Ryan grabs you before you can collapse and helps you right yourself.
“Yeah, yes. Ah, sorry, I’m a klutz.”
“No, that was my fault,” he says. He’s still holding you, and you notice a blush creeping up his cheeks. “I, um, sorry, I don’t, I didn’t mean to be…to um, offend you.”
You shake your head. “You’re not.”
A bit breathless at what you’ve just said, you’re too scared to do anything else and so you just stand there, staring at him, waiting for something to happen but not daring to think that anything will.
“We should…we should probably…” you start to say.
Before you can finish, Ryan is lowering his face to yours, and then he’s kissing you. His end of day stubble rakes across your chin and cheeks as he turns his head to kiss you deeper. You put your hands on his chest and kiss him back, fighting the sudden urge to wrap your legs around his waist right then and there. He walks you backwards until you’re on the edge of the desk, your waist held tightly in his hands.
“No,” he replies.
His glasses bump up against your nose, and you lift them carefully off his face and set them on your shelf, out of harm’s way. His eyes are much more blue than you’d realized.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks.
You smile and pull him close again.
He kisses you again, and pulls your blouse out from your skirt before fussing with the buttons. You swat his hands away and undo the buttons yourself. Goosebumps rise on your skin the moment you fling the shirt aside, but then his hands are covering you, tentative at first, but soon sneaking a finger under the silk of your bra to brush against your nipples that are already hard and swelling to be touched.
His boldness makes you brave too, and you let one hand wander south until it’s cupping his groin. His hardness is pushing against the zipper, and you rub slowly through the jeans, his soft moan of pleasure making you feel a little weak.
He takes one of your nipples in his mouth, and you arch back, the shock of his tongue on your skin rippling through every inch of your body. You grab his hair and tug, and a groan rumbles in his throat. He pushes you back farther onto the desk, you hike your skirt up around your thighs, as he runs his palms up your legs, to your hips.
You lean forward and work the zipper of his jeans, freeing him before you can stop to think what you’re doing. You don't even bother to pull your panties down, just aside, as he centers himself between your knees.
You wrap your arms around his neck and hold on, and then he’s inside you. He’s bigger than you realized, and the sudden fullness leaves you gasping for breath. He’s breathing hard too, moaning into your neck, sucking on your ear lobe as he works himself into a slow, steady rhythm. He braces himself against the desk and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling his shy, tentative thrusts in harder and deeper.
“Oh my god,” he says. “You’re so hot. I think…I think I’m gonna…”
This is too exciting to let it end so quickly. You push him off you and stand up, moving in to kiss him as you position him above your chair, then help him to sit. Rucking your skirt all the way up around your waist you straddle him in the chair, guiding the tip of his cock into you, then easing yourself down around him until you’re sitting in his lap. He releases your breasts from their silk cups and squeezes them together, then starts to lick and suck them again as you ride him.
The movement of your hips soon distracts him from doing anything else. He leans his head back on the chair and holds you tightly, thrusting up to meet you as you come down on him again and again. Your orgasm is close; it has been since he first touched you, and now it heats up the base of your spine and spreads through your chest, until you can barely breath for the tension and you’re sure someone can hear your moans. When it comes, shuddering through you in heaving spasms, you collapse against his chest.
“Oh, oh, god…I…”
He doesn’t let you rest. In an instant he has moved you both, and your sensitive nipples are pressed up against the cool, flat surface of your desk. You are momentarily focused on the strangeness of that sensation, then he slides your panties down around your thighs and enters you from behind. His cock pumps, and you shiver slightly from the still lingering waves of your orgasm, as he pulls you in close to him by your hips. His breathing is getting harder, he’s grunting and groaning and thrusting sharp and fast, and a moment later he’s doubling over. His hand shoots down to hold himself up on the desk, and his forehead comes to rest on your back.
“That was…you, you are so hot.”
You chuckle. “You said that already.”
He pulls away from you slowly and helps you stand up. You both readjust in silence for a moment. You’re really hoping it doesn’t suddenly get awkward; that working with him isn’t unbearable now; that you don't have to find a way not to blush every time you sit next to him in a meeting. He puts his glasses back on, and an unexpected rush of heat pools between your legs. A smile tips up the corners of your mouth, even as you’re trying to resign yourself to never speaking of this again.
“So um, do you, do you want to maybe get some dinner or a drink? It’s pretty late to still be at work.”
You smile wider, and he blushes again.
Michele London is an author, editor, and romance consultant with Scarlet Girl. She is a regular contributor to Scarlet’s Letter and the archive of articles at ScarletGirl.com. She writes dark fiction and erotic fantasy, and dips into real-life tales of sexy for the lovely ladies as a Scarlet Girl pleasure party consultant in the San Francisco Bay Area.
If you like this bit of erotica, and would like to see more, please let us know.
In the meantime, for 10% off the items of your choice from ScarletGirl.com, just enter code "WORK213" into the Coupon Section at checkout.