Trying things from a different perspective – but still, male (mostly) dominant.

The door closes and she looks up from the desk. The night had been quiet – eerily so – and he simply took her breath away. Maybe it was the long night alone, a break in the boredom & monotony. Maybe a scent, reminding her of a passionate night from days more carefree, was carried in along with the night air. Maybe it was the way he looked at her. Whatever the reason, she couldn’t form a sentence.

He walked up to her and put his finger under her chin. In a flash, she was on her feet and their lips were together. As she untucked his shirt, his fingers deftly unbuttoned her blouse. Fingernails found his back just before he forced her shirt down, and he didn’t hide the feasting of his eyes as he enjoyed the bra-clad cleavage pushed in front of him, her arms trapped behind her.

Quickly, he placed his arms around her and lifted her onto the desk. As she struggled to free her arms, he unclapsed and unzipped the skirt. With a quick, well-practiced movement, she sat, bare-bottomed, before him.

Her eyes gazed at the door. For a second, a very real “what if someone comes in” thought entered her gaze. And as soon as her eyes returned to him, that moment was gone. This had to happen, and this had to happen now.

With a single, long lick, his tongue traveled up her left leg, from her knee, inside her thigh, and to her hip. She gasped, steadying her self with her arms behind her. And when his tongue failed to even glance by her sex, she thrust her hips out, toward him.

Another lick, this time on the right leg . . . and the same action. She grew wetter and wetter before him, gushing. She wanted.

And then he kissed her lips. Not the lips he so carefully pecked before, but the hungry ones. The ones that needed it. Little pecks, hardly more than teases, all over her sex. Random kisses. And just when she nearly grew bored, the tongue came back out.

Slowly, he pressed his tongue into her sex, licking up. Time, and time, and time again, driving her crazy, as he spent only the briefest of moments on that wonderful little button each time. After minutes, as she pushed her hips closer and closer to him, he circled her clitoris with his tongue.

“Fuck” she muttered, securing herself on the desk with her arms behind her. The first words spoken between them.

As he played with and teased her clit: circling, flicking, circling, licking, he placed two fingers inside of her and started pumping. As they entered, he’d spread the fingers apart – probing, finding just the spots she needed to have touched from the inside.

Her breathing grew haphazard. Little gasps were emitting from her throat, steadily rising in pitch. As her breathing came quicker and shorter, his finger pounding become more intense. As she started to spasm, those gasps better qualified as squeaks, he took her clitoris between his lips and hummed.

She arched her back, getting her pussy as close to him as possible, and simply enjoyed the ride. His fingers started moving into & out of her as fast as he could move them, back together, hooking at the deep point of their penetration. He hummed, her clit firmly between his lips, and she called out to god.

With one last spasm, her arms gave, and she collapsed onto the desk. His fingers still inside her, her hips continued to ride, weakly, as her breathing returned to something resembling normal. After the orgasm, her body relaxed, the shirt falling off of her shoulders. After a heartbeat, she pounced, her hands unbuckling his belt buckle.

Without a hint of grace, she had his fly undone and his pants fell to the floor. Hungrily, she pulled his cock out from the hole in his boxers and started to eat. With the length in her mouth, he put his hands into her hair, guiding her head. And when her mouth found its way to the head of his cock, he pulled back on her hair, releasing his cock from her mouth. With one hand in her hair, his grasp firm, he pulled her off the desk, placing her over it. With his free hand, he guides his cock into her. And he pumps.

Violent thrust after violent thrust, he pounded into her from behind, his hands pulling back on her hair. She works to position herself so that he can hit just that special spot. Minutes pass as he slides fully into, and then almost out-of her. A strong thrust in, a tempered retreat before repeating, his hips pounding into her ass.

She lets out an “ooh” sound, arching her back even beyond what was forced with his pulling of her hair and it’s his turn to call out to god.

Violent.

Thrust.

After.

Violent.

Thrust.

And then he releases her hair, grabs onto her hips with both hands, and pounds one last time into her, as her legs wrap around his body. His seed dripping from her, carried by her own juices.

She looks over her shoulder at him, her ass still in the air, non-verbally begging for more. Shaking her ass and eye-fucking him, he smiles. With three fingers of his right hand, he presses his fingers against her starting-to-swell sex while pulling her left boob out of her bra and pinching her nipple.

As his right hand masturbates her, pressing against her clit, making her grind his hips against it, he pinches harder and harder. He hand slipping across her pussy, his own juices mixed with her own. As her breathing grows haggard, again, he twists, and as her body starts to tremble. And as her hips buck, he pulls down on the nipple. “FUCK,” she whimpers, covering his hand with her own, trying to pull it off.

He does just that, reaching down to kiss her earlobe as he rubs two fingers around her clit, teasing her as she spasms.

Finally withdrawing his hand from her sex, he traces his fingertips over her exposed ass and lower back. She looks at him. “This was a wonderful change of pace,” she finally admits.

He simply smiles, dresses, kisses her cheek, and departs.