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The office weasel gets a treat.
ing my fingernails gently along the back of his neck, I asked, "You forgive me?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he muttered. He shuddered at the touch of my fingernails against his skin, and moved to back away from me again. He turned from me and pressed the elevator button; I could hear the machinery working inside the elevator shaft, and I knew I was running out of time. My mind quickly searched for another trick I could play on him to get him to come upstairs with me.
"I don't know what's gotten into me," I said, deciding to take the flattery route. "I just can't keep my hands off you." I ran my hands over his chest and shoulders, my breathing quickening. "You look so good tonight, baby..." I gave him a light kiss on the cheek; he was staring down at me eagerly. I kissed him on the other cheek, and my hands were moving from around his waist down to his ass. I loved being a bad girl; I definitely had his attention now, and just thinking of how hot he must have been getting made me wet. I ran a hand down over his ass and back up again, loving every minute of his reaction. He was trying so hard not to tackle me at that very moment, and I was amused at his effort. It was time to push him over the edge.
"Do I get a goodnight kiss?" I whispered in his ear again. Then I took his earlobe between my lips and sucked on it for a moment. I dragged my teeth lightly over his skin, and then kissed it again. I'll never understand it, but something about that small action, which I thoroughly enjoyed, made him go crazy without fail.
Just then the elevator opened, and he grabbed me and kissed me hard while he pushed me inside. My mind whirled at his aggression, and I silently celebrated that he finally seemed interested. He had me against the back of the elevator, and the handlebar that ran along the interior walls dug into my back. It hurt, but I enjoyed it in the intensity of the moment. The color rushed to my face, and I felt as though we had just stepped into a sauna. My head was spinning, partly because I was so turned on and partly because I was so drunk. The elevator doors shut, but we did not move because we had not yet selected a floor.
Who knows what got into me that night, but I was going crazy with him. Okay, so it was probably that Irish car bomb that did it, but nonetheless, I was all over him with no inhibitions. Before I knew what I was doing, my hand was down his pants and I was stroking his dick feverishly. I had never opted to give him a hand job before, but I decided I shouldn't just go down on him right there in the elevator. I kissed him furiously and he held me with urgency in his touch while his dick hardened quickly in my hand. I rubbed him faster, paying special attention to caressing the head of his dick with my fingertips. He moaned low and long into our kiss, and it drove me to distraction. I lifted one of my legs and clinched it around his body; one of his hands grabbed my thigh and held it there.
Slowly and carefully, I backed us away from the back wall of the elevator and we made our way to the control panel near the door. Still kissing him all the way, I took my hand back out of his pants and pressed my body tight against his. Trying to see straight enough to press the button for the eighth floor, I turned my head slightly and mashed my finger against the button. Then I immediately returned to concentrating all my energy and focus on Ryan.
His hands were groping me everywhere, and I was amazed at how quick and slightly clumsy he seemed when he was drunk. I decided that it didn't matter either way if I got off or not that night; I just wanted to get him into my apartment and fuck his brains out. I was by far wet enough to fuck him at this point, and it made no difference to me if I had an orgasm or not because I was so drunk.
I could feel his hard dick against my skin, and I badly wanted him inside of me.