Not Just A One Night Stand (7 page)

So he didn’t, and the initial thrust was deep enough that he nearly seated himself to the taut sac beneath the root of his cock.

“Chandlerrr-rr!” She slurred in the high pitch of a soprano and rocked her hips against his in jerks, fits and starts of motion that only served to reduce his non-existent will to ashes.

“Oh yeah, Taylor.” He oscillated his hips back and forth. “Fuck me back.” He couldn’t ask for more than that.

She milked him nearly dry with her undulations alone. Not to mention her cunt slurped with every thrust and the rude sounds of sex echoed around him deliciously. It would take so little for him to erupt that he was nearly ashamed of himself.

He tried to take his control back and grabbed her hips tightly with an attempt to slow his excitement. But it didn’t work and she only rebounded with suckling at his cock with the walls of her cunt instead.

“Fuck! Taylor stop!” He slapped her ass with his hand and she quivered, the smack changed the cadence within her pulsing walls to an erratic rhythm that only brought him closer to surrendering his seed.

He slapped her again and again, as her hips jerked and wobbled.

She called out throatily. “Oh yes!”

He grunted, leaned over her bowed spine and rocked harder. If he spoke, it was all going to be over. He could only give his energy into their next merger and separation of flesh.

“Fu-cck! Chandler!” her head bumped the table and her hair slid over the slick desk to lazily skirt the floor.

He gritted his teeth and felt his nostrils flare as he exhaled hot air onto her newly bared nape.

“Please don’t stop-pp!” Those were the last words she called out before she exploded around him and he erupted inside her.      

They laid there for long moments, not as long as he would have liked.

But they were in the office.

Chapter Five: Drunken Desk Dance

When he looked around the scene framing their lust, the world seemed to be in a state of inebriated sprawl. Every item seemed akimbo and out of place. The desks were still clustered together but their lovemaking had splayed the tables askew from their natural orientation into a drunken diamond. Papers cluttered on the desks now rested in the floor in a large confetti configuration.

As she whipped her locks forward, he saw that she had accumulated a few items. Namely, post it notes although she had held onto the wonky placed pencil, and the poor lead writing implement was in limbo, half-way into her hair and half-way out. He wasn’t sure why, but the woman covered in sticky notes was even more dangerous that the woman that he originally met those weeks ago.  

It might be because he knew exactly who she was beneath the sensual exterior. Before, all he had to deal with was the impulsive chemistry, the desire to get his hands on her, and the intense yearning to hear her scream. Now on the other hand, it was so much more than that. Now it was the need to find out how she liked her eggs in the morning and the desire to know her for the woman she was beneath the beautiful packaging she was wrapped in.

He finally moved away from her, and saw that her attention was on the typhoon of mess around her. Yeah, they had made quite the path of destruction.

He contemplated the merits of walking away from the damage, but her expression said she would fret about the office until it was as neat as it was left in their care. Chandler shucked the limp, used rubber from his cock and hesitated to toss it directly in the trash.

There was an envelope just a few feet away, he picked up the stamped and addressed empty paper casing.  Then he placed the sticky latex inside and wadded the entire packet in his hand before he tossed the mismanaged correspondence into the trash.

“I’ll bet that the Anderson’s would really appreciate not getting that in response to their franchising request.” She said, and he laughed. That would blow over quite well with the family friendly firm.

He cleaned the disaster area with Taylor, helped her to make certain that no one knew what they had been up to after hours.

“I told you to come to my office.”

She chuckled and grinned. “You may have been right.”

He was at a loss as to where the papers belonged, but he stacked them into the bin at the top of her filing cabinet anyway. At least it was neater than the document’s prior home on the floor, Chandler thought. He quickly ushered the desks back into place and the various sticky paper stubs dotting Taylor’s limbs were reattached to her desktop PC and table top.

That weekend went exactly as Chandler planned. They tooled around the city as if two love-drunken tourists. The city had plenty to see and much to do. And he planned to show her as much of it as was possible to absorb in the forty-eight hours they had together as a couple. Friday he chalked up as a loss, as the not-so quickie sex in the office ensured they missed their dinner reservations.

But he showed her a few etchings in his bedroom.

Saturday was about the idea of having grown up fun. He took her to the movies after a romantic meal pond side. The only problem was the fact that the ducks were worse than ants there, and Taylor was too soft heated when she took pity on the creatures. She made the mistake of feeding the first one and it only took moments before they had a gaggle of the waterfowl around them in circles. The quacks were loud, boisterous and angry once the bread was gone.

After the ducks ran them off, he took her back to his place and they slept in each other’s arms that night. The next day was devoted to kid fun and he took her to the theme park where they rode numerous rollercoasters.

The park was crowded and when finished with the bungee jump, they opted to take a breather. As they passed the stall filled with stuffed cartoon characters, Chandler knew he had to win her one of the humongous animals and sadly, he ended up spending way too much money with his attempts to do so.

He could tell that Taylor had given up on him long before, but his masculine pride refused to let him quit until he got what he wanted.

And he wanted to give her the pink three foot tall bear.

The bear was only worth a fraction of what he had spent in the attempts to win it.

But it was the principal of the thing now.

When he had broken his fifth twenty, even the carnie youth that manned the booth appeared to feel sorry for him.

“Chandler?” She asked, and he could see she was exhausted with their exertions of the day. Her face was covered in a thin film of grime that she made adorable with the smile she plastered on and he knew she wanted him to stop.

“Hmm..?” He looked at her.

“May I try?”

He handed her the ball and she stared at the milk jugs stacked atop one another. The goal was to sink the ball into a jug. The higher the jug, the better the prize.

Taylor looked at him and winked. The ball left her fingers and even he could see the angle was perfect.

The small group of people gathered at the stall snickered, almost as a single organism, and Chandler felt his ears turn red.

The carnie used the hook to tug on the pink bear hanging from the stall ceiling.

“No, I don’t want that one.” She piped in. “The zebra please.”

The employee complied and handed her the huge zebra with a smirk. Taylor handed the stuffed bicolored giant to Chandler.

“For you, honey.” She addressed him. Then she took the remaining two balls from his limp fingers and tossed each casually into the highest jug one after the other. Then she addressed the stall employee once more. “Now I would like the pink bear and the green frog please.” The carnie complied as if he couldn’t wait to get her away from the table.

Taylor took the two animals and handed two children, he vaguely remembered the youths walking over to watch during one of his many attempts, patiently waiting next to the stall each a toy. The boy and girl appeared to be no more than six, and each beamed with their newly acquired plaything.

“Mom, dad!” the kids called out and Chandler watched as a portly man and his svelte wife came into view.

Strangely enough, he knew who the man was. It was Benson.

“Well, hello Chandler! Fancy seeing you here.” Benson’s smile stretched impossibly wide when he looked over at Taylor.

It had to be interesting as the fact that he and Taylor were there together was very apparent. They even matched clothing. They both wore white tee shirts and black shorts, hers were a cotton blend and short enough to show off her thick middle thighs, his were his favored basketball ones worn low at the hip, and each of them wore tennis shoes. Her hair was bound back into a thick braid that draped mid-way down her back.   

She visibly cringed as she attempted to distance herself from him and Chandler used his free arm to tug her to back at his side. He wasn’t shamed, nor should she be. They were two consenting adults who just so happened to share the same office space and a mutual attraction for one another. 

“Hey Benson, so this is what you do with your weekends?” Chandler tried to lighten the mood with a quip.

The older man shrugged, and sighed heavily as if he was sorely put upon, although a twinkle in the man’s eye belied his gruff demeanor. “I got roped into coming here. I’m too old to be wandering around this park all day and night. But I promised the kids that we would, so here we are.” He leaned in and lowered his voice to a mock whisper. “And you’ll find out when you have your own of course, but you can’t make a promise to the heathen tribes. If you do, they aren’t going to let you forget about it.” Apparently, Benson was willing to go along with the jovialities as always.

“I’ll bet.” Chandler chuckled and wondered what that would be like. To have kids that ran amuck and a wife that would tend to all of them as he took care of her.

Taylor was dumbfounded. Chandler had made it a point to make sure that she had as much fun with him as possible that first weekend together. Not that she imagined that his company would be horrible, but she would have never conceived that they could have so much… fun together either.

When she realized that his terrible form and poor hand-eye coordination would keep him from ever winning the prize he was obsessed with winning at the theme park, she couldn’t resist showing off.

But pride goeth before a fall and she learned that lesson quickly when the two children that she gave the other toys to belonged to her coworker. Taylor was chagrined at the fact that she was caught with her hand in the company cookie jar.

And to make matters worse, Chandler refused to let her slink off somewhere to dissociate from her disgrace alone.

But the kicker was that Benson seemed to care less and actually appeared to approve.

That one weekend became another and yet another until almost two months passed in the blink of an eye. The weekdays were spent hands off while at work, a policy that Taylor implemented after Chandler had called her into his office for an impromptu meeting. Even with all the ways they had experimented on each other, that day was special.

Taylor remembered the way she walked into his office. She knew what he wanted, but she was just as determined to not give into it. If he wanted access to her body, he would have to wait until quitting time.

But when she stepped foot inside of his space, he was waiting for her. Not at the well-polished mahogany desk, but leaned against the wall. He closed the door and locked the handle, the nearly simultaneous clicks a death knell to her plans to keep this professional.

She tried vainly to stick with her plan and told him in no uncertain terms that he would have to wait. That was her first mistake.

He wasn’t having that.

Chandler whispered in her ear. “Don’t
ever wear that shirt again.” When Chandler was angry, the accent was so much stronger. And that particular tone never failed to make her pussy wet.

She knew that he was mad about the VP ogling her during the quarterly report. The odious man was married and had at least one mistress that the entire office knew about. And it wasn’t as if the VP in question, Carter Pearson, could get anything more than the time of day from her.

When Carter brushed against her for the third time, Chandler claimed the light was bothering him and traded seats with the man. But she ignored the fact that he was there, only her body betrayed her and the fat buds of her nipples showed against the thin silk of her blouse. She had to put on her jacket and the addition of the light wool seemed to satisfy him to no end.

                “You know I would never give him the time of day, Chandler.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want him looking at you. He’s lucky that I didn’t sock him a good one.” He growled.

Taylor chuckled at his jealous nature and he seemed bristle up at her amusement. That was her second mistake.

Chandler whipped her to face him fully and captured her mouth with unconcealed lust. The press of lips was hungry and destructive. When he lifted her up and unzipped his pants, she didn’t even think about it. Her skirt would show every wrinkle from their exertions, but she didn’t care. Even when he rasped his thumb over the side seam of her panties, she only groaned, instead of the fight she promised that she would give him every step of the way.

Her legs wrapped around his hips. All she felt was the hot press of his cock and she rocked into the familiar pressure. He shuttled her north and south over and over again, the only reason she didn’t cry aloud was the buffer of his tongue in her mouth.

When he came, she realized what they had done. In broad daylight at the office and sans protection.

He cleaned her soapy cunt with a bottle of spring water and a handkerchief that he stuck in his pocket with a wink and smile. “Now I want to see you walk out of here and pretend like I’m nobody.”

“Fat chance of that.” She snorted, but she was nervous as hell.

That was the first time she had ever fucked without protection.

Chapter Six: How the One Nighter Became an All Nighter