His Hidden Lust

Sitting on a chair next to me, he looks at me.

“So, tell me what you're thinking? Your face looks like you don't even know how you feel at the moment.” His voice is soft and gentle.

Why is all that I am thinking about is to climb onto his lap? The thought is strong in my mind that the door is locked, and no one can come in.

Standing up, I walk to him, climbing on his lap, my legs on either side of him, his hands gripping my arse. My lips, pushing against his, kissing him, my hands begin running along his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. Moaning, the memories of the kitchen begin to flood my mind.

This is not me at all. How has he so easily unlocked me? His hands grip my arse tight, pulling me to him. Moaning, my hands slide down, my fingers unfastening his buttons. His hands are grabbing mine. Looking at him, his eyes are delving into mine.

“Again, tell me what you're thinking, other than you trying to fuck me in the office. Honest thoughts, Alena, please, otherwise I stop all this