It was the second time Sheila had drifted into the living room, a vision of domestic temptation, wearing nothing but his oversized button-down and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses that did nothing to hide the mischief in her eyes.
Alan watched her cross to the kitchen, his focus on the screen fracturing. When she reached for a glass on the top shelf, the hem of the shirt rode up; he realized then she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
The sight of the smooth, pale curve of her backside sent a sharp, familiar ache through him.
“Are you still with us, Alan?”
His manager’s voice crackled through the laptop speakers, jarring him back to reality. Alan cleared his throat, forcing his voice into a professional monotone. “Yes, I’m here. Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll have the projections finished by Friday.”
“Perfect. That’s all from me. Except you have–”
“Great. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
The moment the meeting ended, Alan snapped the laptop shut. Sheila was still there, leaning against the counter.
Through the thin fabric of his shirt, her nipples were prominent and taut. He didn’t bother with an invitation. He stood, the fabric of his shorts strained, and closed the distance between them in a few heavy strides. He caught her by the waist, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her hips as he pressed her back against the cool marble of the kitchen counter. The contrast of her warmth against the cold stone made her gasp, her breath hitching as his hands slid upward, mapping the curves he’d been staring at all morning.
“You’re a distraction,” he growled, his mouth hovering just inches from hers.
“Am I?” she teased, her voice a low purr. She arched her back, the thin cotton of the shirt straining against her nipples, which were already hard and aching for his touch. He didn’t answer with words. His hands found her skin immediately, roaming hungrily over the curve of her hips. Sheila let out a low moan, melting into his touch.
“You’re already so wet,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as his hand slid between her thighs to find her already slick and swollen. He teased her, his thumb circling her clit with a punishing, rhythmic pressure until she was whimpering, her fingers tangling in his hair.
Alan dropped to his knees, his tongue taking over with a desperate, sweeping intensity. He drank her in, his tongue working with a frantic rhythm while his fingers slid inside her to mimic the pace. Sheila was soon sobbing his name, her body vibrating with a clenching peak that left her clinging to the counter for support. He didn’t change the rhythm; he wanted to taste her trembling release. Sheila threw her head back, eyes closed, hands clinging against the marble as her legs gave way, crying out as she shattered around him.
She didn’t let him stay down there for long. As Alan stood, she pulled him in and kissed him hard, tasting herself on his lips, her hands already working at the waistband of his boxers. She freed him, her eyes dark with intent as she felt the slick heat of his desire. She pushed him back toward the couch, straddling him before he could even settle. She lowered herself slowly, her eyes locked on his as she took every inch of him, her body stretching and molding to his size.
Alan let out a low, guttural growl as she filled herself with him.
“God, Alan…” she choked out, her head falling back, arching her back as she began to move, “You feel so good…”
Alan reached up, his hands anchoring her by the waist before moving to worship her breasts, taking one peak into his mouth and then the other. He rolled her nipples with his thumbs before taking one peak into his mouth, sucking and grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth. Sheila moaned her hips moving in a slow, circular grind, testing his control. Then, she shifted gears, riding him with a sudden, desperate urgency.
“Don’t you dare come yet,” she commanded, her voice breaking. She rode him with a wild, uninhibited hunger, her internal muscles pulsing around him, her body slick with sweat.
“Alan… Fuck, I’m going to—”
Alan met every downward thrust with a powerful surge of his own, his hands bruising her hips as they raced toward the edge. She drove him faster, her body slick with sweat. When the break finally came, it was violent and all-consuming. Sheila cried out, her body locking tight as she came in waves, triggering Alan to follow her, his vision blurring as he poured himself into her.
They collapsed into the cushions, a tangled mess of sweat, while the laptop sat forgotten on the desk, the screen still glowing through the gap where he’d failed to shut it completely in his haste.