Gosh, it was worth giving him such a gift just to experience this view.
“You are amazing.”
He lifts me from my knees, and before I can get my balance on my numb legs, he finds my mouth and pushes me with my back against the wall. We kiss greedily, breathlessly. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve never had a series like this with anyone. Usually after sex, my guy just went to sleep, or we went back about our business. Meanwhile, with Jan, it’s completely different. It’s as if with each kiss, I become more addicted to his hot breath, with each touch I crave his body more, with each satisfaction I strive to feel him again, and again. Our tongues engulf each other without restraint, our hands wander over each other’s shoulders, breasts, belly. Jan finds my clitoris with his fingers and the desire to be sated returns. I push against his hand, signaling him to slide his fingers inside me. But he clearly craves something else.
“I want to lick your pussy,” he whispers into my mouth, and before I have a chance to say anything, he is already bending in front of me on one knee, pulling up my skirt, putting my leg over his shoulder and devouring my slit.
“Oh yes!” I lean with all my weight against the wall and slide my fingers in his hair. The sight of his handsome face next to my womanhood, his eyes focused directly at me, is enough to make me feel a strong contraction.
Jan engulfs me, licks me, sucks me, encloses my clitoris with his mouth, before sliding his tongue inside and clamping his hands on my trembling thighs.
I wriggle, moan, I’m on the verge of orgasm, his tongue penetrates even deeper.
“Yes. Right there.” I press his head against me. I relish this moment, this caress, how immeasurably Jan craves to bring me to my climax, how strongly he desires me.
A boiling current flows out from within and consumes my entire body. The muscles of my pussy tighten on Jan’s tongue.
I’m coming. It’s strong, overpowering, euphoric.
Jan licks gently my sensitive folds; he looks at me with satisfaction. He knows perfectly well that he has brought me to unearthly ecstasy. And he’s damn proud of it.
Yes, my dear boss. You have the right to be proud of yourself as well as satisfied—and very much so.
I am suffused with a feeling of bliss, languor and some inner warmth.
Exhausted, I slide down the wall to the floor. My ears are ringing, I’m spent. More than anything, I want to close my eyes and drift off to sleep in the arms of the man who brought me to a compelling orgasm today (and for the second time).
However, unexpectedly, a little monster from within is calling for its nicotine fix.
“I need a smoke,” I sigh.
Jan frowns and puts on his pants.
I suspect he’ll soon start preaching to me about how I take far too many cigarette breaks during the day. He’ll probably launch into some moralizing rant about how smoking is unhealthy and causes cancer and heart disease. I know all the bullshit slogans and images that tarnish every pack of ciggies. That’s why I always choose the ones where an attractive gentleman is lying down covered with a sheet and looks like he’s sleeping soundly.
And honestly, I don’t give a damn what Jan says. After such sexual excesses, I need to take a good drag.
“Me too,” he replies unexpectedly, and I’m taken aback.
“Do you smoke?” I ask. I have never seen him light up a cigarette, or smelled it on him.
“I haven’t had a cigarette in my mouth in ten years. But now I want one like hell,” he announces and shakes my hand to help me get up from the floor.
*
We exit the elevator to the lobby on the ground floor. It took us a while to get downstairs (I had to freshen up again, find my panties, put on my tights, boots and jacket), so the nicotine monster that inhabits my body is already tearing its yapping hole hungrily, stabbing me from the inside with its sharp claws.
As we approach the spacious hall, Mariah Carey’s cheerful voice rings out from the radio on the receptionist desk:
I don’t want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don’t care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
