SWTVM (Red dress)

I woke up with the sun shining through my little window, but my body felt like it was still caught in that dream. My skin was warm, my nipples tight against the soft t-shirt I’d slept in, and between my legs, everything felt sensitive and swollen, like one soft touch would set me off again. 

I lay there for a minute with my eyes closed, remembering every second of the dream, his mouth on me, his thick cock pushing inside, and the way I’d screamed his name.

My hand slid down without me really deciding to move it. Just a light brush over my panties, and I shivered hard. I was still wet from last night, maybe even wetter now. I pressed a little harder, circling slowly, and a small whimper slipped out. God, it felt so good, but I knew that if I kept going, I’d never get out of bed.

I forced myself to stop, threw the covers off, and jumped in the shower. The hot water ran over my breasts and down my belly, and I had to bite my lip to keep from touching myself again. Every drop of water felt like his fingers, and by the time I turned the water off, my legs were shaky.

I dressed in my uniform, the same black dress and white apron, and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I looked in the mirror and saw my cheeks were pink and my eyes brighter than usual. I looked… different, like someone who knew some kind of secret now.

I decided to make him a simple breakfast, typical eggs, toast, bacon, and good coffee. Something to say thank you for giving me this job, and maybe something to keep my mind off how badly I wanted to see him again.

The kitchen smelled amazing by the time I heard footsteps, heavy, slow, and definitely his.

He walked in wearing nothing but gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips and no shirt. His hair was messy from sleep, and there was a shadow of stubble on his jaw. He looked even better than yesterday, like a man who had just rolled out of bed after a long, satisfying night.

“Morning,” he said, his voice rough and deep. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, muscles shifting under his skin.

“Good morning,” I answered, trying to sound normal. I turned back to the stove so he wouldn’t see how red my face got. “I made breakfast.”

He walked over and sat at the island. I set a plate in front of him and poured him coffee, black, just like he’d said yesterday.

“This looks good, Lila.” He picked up his fork and took a bite, keeping his eyes on me the whole time. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” I said quietly, and he smiled, a real one this time, not just a smirk.

 It made my stomach flip. “Sit. Eat with me.”

I hesitated, then sat across from him with my own small plate. We ate in silence for a minute, but it wasn’t as awkward as I expected.

“You sleep okay?” he asked suddenly.

My fork froze halfway to my mouth. Did he know? Had he heard me last night?

“Y-yes,” I lied. “Fine.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes dropping to my lips, then lower, to where my dress pulled tight across my chest. “You look rested. Glowing, almost.”

I felt heat rush between my legs again. Glowing? Because I’d touched myself thinking about him? Because I’d come whispering his name?

“Thank you,” I mumbled.

He reached across the island for the coffee pot. His arm brushed mine, and even that tiny touch sent sparks through me. Then he did something that made my heart stop, he caught a tiny drop of coffee on my wrist with his thumb and wiped it away slowly. 

His skin was warm, and he didn’t pull his hand back right away.

“You’re going to be trouble, Lila,” he said softly, his eyes still locked on mine.

I couldn’t breathe. “I…I’m not.”

He chuckled low in his throat and finally let go. “We’ll see.”

He finished eating, stood up, and stretched, and his sweatpants pulled even lower, showing that perfect V line. I stared way too long.

“I’ll be in my office all day,” he said. “Work calls. So just keep things quiet.”

Then he was gone, leaving me sitting there with wet panties and a racing heart.

The rest of the day was torture.

I tried so hard not to think about him. I dusted every surface twice, scrubbed the kitchen floor on my hands and knees, and folded and refolded his laundry, burying my face in one of his t-shirts when I thought no one would know, and his scent, clean, faint cologne, and pure man, made my knees weak.

By afternoon, the ache between my legs was constant. I locked myself in the downstairs bathroom and leaned against the door, and my hand slipped under my dress before I could stop it. I was soaked. 

Two fingers slid easily over my clit, and I rubbed fast and desperate as I pictured his mouth there, his tongue licking slow and hard. It took less than a minute. I came with my face pressed against my arm to muffle the sound, thighs shaking, and wetness dripping down my fingers.

I cleaned up quickly, ashamed but still slightly satisfied. ‘Okay, now I can focus.’

I told myself that all day.

By seven o’clock, the sun had set, and the house was quiet. I was in the kitchen starting to think about dinner when the doorbell rang.

I wiped my hands and went to answer it.

A woman stood on the porch.

She was beautiful. Tall and curvy, with long dark hair and red lipstick that matched her tight red dress. The dress hugged her body like it was painted on, big breasts, tiny waist, and hips that swayed when she moved. She smiled at me like she owned the place.

“I’m here for Damian,” she said, her voice smooth and confident.

My stomach twisted. Hard. “Oh. Um, come in.”

I stepped aside, and she walked past me, her perfume strong and clearly expensive.

I closed the door and called up the stairs. “Mr. Blackwood? You have a visitor.”

He appeared at the top of the stairs almost right away. Shirt on now, but still casual. He smiled when he saw her, the pleasure visible in his eyes.

“Vanessa,” he said warmly. He came down and kissed her cheek while keeping his hand low on her back. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” she purred. “We have that thing to discuss.”

He nodded and led her toward his office, and the door closed behind them, but not all the way. A small crack stayed open.

I stood in the hallway for a long moment, my heart pounding. Who was she? Girlfriend? Workmate? Someone he… slept with?

The thought made me feel sick and hot and confused.

I went back to the kitchen, but I couldn’t focus. Then ten minutes later, I heard it, a soft, female, and breathless moan.

My feet moved before my brain caught up. I walked quietly down the hall until I stood outside the office door. The crack was small, but enough.

I looked, and my whole body caught fire.

Vanessa was on her knees in front of his chair. His sweatpants were pushed down just enough, and his cock, God, it was even bigger than in my dream, was hard and thick in her hand. She licked the tip slowly, then took him deep into her mouth. Her head moved up and down, lips stretched around him.

Damian leaned back, one hand in her hair, guiding her. His eyes were half-closed, jaw tight. “Fuck, yes,” he groaned. “Just like that.”

She moaned around him, the sound vibrating, and he thrust gently into her mouth, hips lifting a little.

I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. My nipples ached against my bra, my panties were soaked in seconds, and I pressed my thighs together, but it wasn’t enough.

My hand moved on its own, slipping under my dress. I pushed my panties aside and touched myself, wet, slippery, and swollen. I rubbed slowly at first, matching the rhythm of her mouth on him.

He pulled her up suddenly, spun her around, and bent her over the desk. Her dress rode up, showing she wore nothing underneath, and he gripped her hips and slid into her in one hard thrust.

They both moaned loudly.

He started fucking her, deep, steady strokes that caused the desk to shake, and her breasts bounced with every thrust. She reached back, nails digging into his thigh. “Harder,” she begged.

He gave it to her harder. Skin slapped against skin. His hand came down on her ass with a sharp smack, and she cried out, pushing back against him.

I rubbed faster, two fingers sliding inside myself now, thumb on my clit. I was so wet I could hear it. I imagined it was me bent over that desk. Me he was pounding into. Me making him groan like that.

His head fell back, neck muscles tight. “Gonna come,” he growled.

He pulled out fast, stroking himself once, twice, and thick ropes of cum landed on her back and ass. She moaned, reaching between her legs to touch herself, coming with a shudder.

I came at the same second, harder than in the bathroom earlier. My knees almost gave out, and I leaned against the wall, biting my lip until it hurt to stay quiet. Pleasure crashed through me in waves, my fingers soaked.

I pulled my hand away, shaking, and slipped back to the kitchen before they noticed.

A few minutes later, I heard the office door open fully, and heels clicked toward the front door. I peeked out, and Vanessa was leaving, hair a little messy, lips swollen, and smiling like a cat who got the cream. She blew him a kiss and left.

Damian appeared in the kitchen doorway. His hair was tousled, shirt untucked. He looked relaxed, satisfied, and sexy as hell.

“No need for dinner tonight, Lila,” he said casually. “I already ate.”

My face burned as the double meaning hit me right between the legs.

He met my eyes for a long second. A small smirk tugged at his lips, like he knew something. Like maybe he knew everything.

“Sleep well tonight,” he added, his voice low.

Then he turned and went upstairs, and I stood there alone in the kitchen, body still trembling, heart racing.

Sleep? There was no way I was sleeping tonight, not after what I’d seen, not after what I’d done while watching, and definitely not when all I could think about was how much I wanted to be the next woman walking out of his office with his cum on my skin.