There’s something about having my dick swallowed in his warm mouth while he fingers me—we’re up to three now—that makes my head fall back, lips trembling with bliss. He’s teased about fucking me someday, and my ass contracts around him at the thought of it.
“Jamie, this. You.” He’s massaging my insides, hitting a spot they don’t teach you about in sex education. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
He pulls off, gasping for air. “You wanna fuckme?”
I glance down at him, smiling up at me, spit dripping off his luscious lips.
“Oh, Jamie. I always want to fuck you.”
We’ve talked about these midday encounters. In the interest of time, it’s probably best I only come once, so we have to be… efficient.
Jamie’s up, yanking down his pants, his perfectly sized cock springing up as he puts them on a hook. His hands find my chest, pinching and squeezing my nipples as I bend down to kiss the top of his head.
“I love you, Jamie.”
“I love you, too.” His hands leave my chest and open the vanity, pulling out the large container of lube.
I buy the industrial size that comes with a pump. It’s quicker and necessary when I’ve only got time to nut once.
Jamie sets it on the counter beside the sink and pumps a generous amount into his hand and readies himself. Usually at home, when we have more time, one of us handles the lube for both of us, but with meetings looming and lunch waiting, I reach around, pump some onto my palm, and slather it on my cock.
“Okay, Mr. Trainor.” He reaches back and spreads his cheeks wide. “Ready for my pounding.”
I’m stroking myself, making sure I’m rock hard, and staring at his hole, still ready from the rimming I gave him this morning before we were forced out of bed by the alarm. My dick throbs. Carefully, I rub the head on his opening, pushing only enough to allow a portion of the tip in.
“You want it?” I ask.
“Mags, please don’t tease me. I’ve been waiting all morning.”
Jamie slides back, taking the entire shaft, moaning as I open him right up.
“There we go.” I place my hands on his waist, letting him do the work for now. “You’re all mine, Jamie.” Eager for more contact, I lean over him, my furry stomach resting on his smooth back. “Show me how much you love fucking my dick.”
He’s up on his tiptoes, thrusting back, faster, harder as my tail curls around his thighs. He knows his horny hole makes me come quickly, and my balls begin to tighten.
“I’m close, Jamie.” I stand, grip his waist, and pull him back. “Can you jerk yourself off?”
“Mmh. Yeah.” He holds his hand out, spits on his palm, reaches under, and strokes himself.
“Let me take over.”
I drive into him again and again, each plunge a pulse of my claim, my need, my love. Every shiver, every gasp, tells me he’s mine—my mate, my heart, my everything.
“Fuck me, Mags. Harder. I’m close. So close.” His ass clenches around me, and I know he’s coming. “That’s it. Fuck me. Harder. Pound the cum out of me.”
His words guide me over the edge, my orgasm surging until pure elation takes over.
“Jamie, I’m gonna come. Now. Fuck.”
I yank him back, driving deeper, as my cock throbs inside him.
“Fill me up with your cum. Give it to me, baby.” He pushes back, and my dick entirely vanishes from view, my body vibrating with pleasure as I shoot inside him.
His hand can’t contain his load, and his ass can’t contain mine. We’re making a glorious mess in here, but thankfully the custodial staff now keeps the office stocked with plenty of wipes and towels.Note to self: put a little extra in their holiday bonus this year.
When Jamie’s had all he can take, I pull out and move to the toilet, lifting the seat. But my mate won’t let me finish alone. He’s right at my side—one hand on mine, matching every stroke, while the other slips inside my hole, fingers curling and working me until my thighs tremble as I cross the finish line.
We clean up together, moving around each other in a brisk but intimate rhythm. Our hands brush, linger, and find excuses to touch—my fingers catch his while he towels off, his hand slides along my back as I pull on my shirt, my tail looping around his thigh like it can’t quite let go. Every kiss, every nuzzle, its own conversation, soft and urgent all at once, makes getting dressed take twice as long as it should.
