"Yes, sir."
I push through my office door, round the corner, walk into my restroom without thinking because it's my office restroom and I've never once had a reason to knock.
The devil herself is standing at my sink.
Naked from the waist up.
She doesn't even see me. She's facing the mirror with her back to the door, both hands scrubbing something under the running water, and I stand there like an idiot watching her reflection because my feet have stopped cooperating.
The wet garment she's working on requires effort, and the effort requires movement, and the movement is making her breasts do things I'm going to need to actively not think about for the foreseeable future.
I breathe out sharply.
My cock did not get the memo and is standing at full attention like it has somewhere to be.
Absolute traitor.
"Why thefuckare you in my office naked, Mrs. Monroe?"
"Oh god!" She screams, yanking the wet garment up against her chest and spinning around to face me in one motion. "I — fuck. I'm so —" She blows a strand of hair out of her face and tries again. "I bumped into someone in the hallway and spilled my coffee down the front of my blouse. Leslie brought me here to wash up. She said you wouldn't be back until afternoon."
But she's topless. Is she not wearing a bra today? I don't need that fucking information. Did I do something horrible in a previous life to deserve this specific Friday?
Her breathing is uneven, her face flushed, and the blouse she's pressing to her chest is doing precisely nothing to erase the image that is now permanently seared into my brain.
I look at her for exactly five seconds longer than I should.
Then I grab my laptop off the desk and walk out without a word, doing my level best to arrange my jacket in a way that preserves what remains of my dignity as I make my way down the hall to the conference room.
"Claudia." I slow at her desk without breaking stride. "Please reschedule my appointment with Dr. Amara. As soon as possible."
"Of course, Mr. Sullivan."
Fuck Blaire Alexander.
***
The moment my apartment door shuts, I sink into my couch and start jerking my cock at a rapid pace. Precum slicks my palm as I drag it over my length.
I knew the moment I got home tonight; I had to find release. I didn’t care how, but I needed it.
Tonight is my first official public outing with Blaire and I have been in a deteriorating mood since I walked into my own restroom this morning and found her standing at my sink without a shirt on, and the mood has not meaningfully improved over the course of the afternoon that included one meeting I barely tracked, two calls I half-listened to, and a rescheduled therapy appointment that cannot come soon enough.
I needed to take the edge off before tonight. I pull up a video on my phone, suddenly registering that my entire library is blond-haired, light eyed women with similar features. That is going to need unpacking in a future therapy session, because right now I am hard and already close to the edge in an embarrassingly short amount of time.
I'm not usually like this. I've never been some sex-crazed, constantly-needing-release guy. But my balls started tightening the moment I walked into that restroom this morning, and the image of Blaire at my sink has been burning a hole in my brain every single minute since. All I've been able to think about all day is hate fucking her over that sink, getting my mouth on those gorgeous tits, making her moan loud enough for the whole floor to hear and...
"Oh....fuck," I groan as I squeeze my cock, my orgasm right on the edge.
I hate her for reducing me to this. Some primitive, desperate man jerking off to nothing but the memory of her perfect tits. Fuck, she's so goddamn hot. Eighteen-year-old Blaire has nothing on the woman I saw today. Her full lips, the little weight she's added to her frame. Fuller in all the right ways.
I feel frenzied. Out of my mind. Ready to fucking lose my shit with the electricity bouncing through me.
I let go of the base of my cock and pump hard, up and down, over and over until my cock swells and I curl forward, coming all up the front of my stomach, groaning the entire time. "Fuck....oh fuck."
Holy shit, it’s been too long since I’ve done this.
I fall back on the couch, let go, and stare up at the ceiling, finding my breath one slow pull at a time.
