Ben looked at Sabrina lazily, even caught red-handed—maybe because caught red-handed—and absently continued to stroke himself.Barefoot, Sabrina padded over to him. He looked up at her, and continued to caress himself–faster–a silent plea in his eyes. Reaching behind her back, she unbuttoned the top of her skirt, unzipped it and pulled it down her hips. Her movement was animalistic, as she turned her back to him and squatted. She grabbed his shaft from his hand, and slipped it into herself. Her eyes closed as he filled her. As she had wanted him to fill her all of this time. Her lazy and active daydreams were about Ben, wanting him inside of her. Sleep was impossible because naked under her sheets, she kept spreading her legs and using her fingers to simulate what she thought Ben would be like between them. And remembering what he looked like in his suit, and where she wanted to touch his body.
How often had she fallen asleep with her fingers inside of herself? And dreams that culminated in monsoonesque orgasms, that flooded her dreams and her awakening?
But now, Ben was in her–and it was not only her that had wanted this apparently. He clutched her tight around her waist, and pulled her to his hard chest. He was not happy with just her bottom bare on his lap, so he unbuttoned her blouse, and kneaded her breast with raw abandon until it voluntarily slipped out of her bra cup. He kneaded and thrust up into her, in tandem with her own movement. Sabrina’s eyes were first closed with bliss, and then she saw the reflection of their rutting bodies reflected in his all glass office from several angles over and over again, until it all blurred together like a kaleidoscope and she came so suddenly and sharply that she whistled out a startled gasp.
She pressed her hands on his thighs, saw their bodies still reflected throughout his office, and basked in their oneness.
For the moment.
More Masturbation Monday here: