Lunchtime

You can imagine how impatient I was as I sat waiting for the minutes to tick by. I’ve never been what you call a patient person, but this was making me crazy. The few stolen minutes we had a couple of times a week couldn’t come quick enough.

Tick, tick, tick. I could hear the clock on my wall clicking off the seconds until my lunch hour. As soon as it showed 11:30, I was out the door and on my way to his house. His wife was working out of town today and I intended to make the most of the hour we had together.

I looked in the rearview mirror and checked my hair and makeup. I had taken special care this morning when I was dressing; his favorite perfume, a cute new dress, the perfect heels and of course the perfect lingerie. That was my favorite part. Today I had pulled out my favorite corset. It was blue with a black overlay of lace. Little eyelets laced up the front giving me overflowing breasts. A matching thong and thigh high stocking finished off the look.

I know it won’t be a wasted effort, but there won’t be much time for him to appreciate the look before it’s lying on the floor of the bedroom.

With just 60 minutes to feel his skin next to mine, to run my hands over his body, there’s no time to waste. I pull into the driveway and he’s waiting at the door. I hurry in so the neighbors don’t see and as soon as the door shuts behind us I’m in his arms.

Our mouths lock and our tongues dance. I love the way he feels big and strong in my arms. The way I have to stand on my tip toes to devour his mouth. He breaks away and reaches for my hand then pulls me down the hall to the bedroom.

He sits on the bed and I stand between his legs. His hands travel up and down my body as I suck his tongue into my mouth. I hear his breath catch. I know he loves it when I do that, almost as much as he likes for me to bite his nipple when we fuck.

“You have on to many clothes,” he says as he reaches for the tie at my waist. Once he pulls that the dress falls open revealing the lingerie underneath.

“Did you wear this just for me?” he asks.

“I’ve felt the satin and lace all day long and thought about you,” I said as I shrugged and let the dress fall to the floor.

A low sound of appreciation came from him as I stood there. “You wore the thigh highs again, you know how much I like that,” he finally said.

I smiled and turned slowly. Making sure he took the whole package in.

He reached out and pulled me to him. I felt his lips on my back, kissing one vertebra at a time. His hand slipped around my waist and dipped lower inside my panties. I felt his mouth on the side of my neck and he felt me shiver – but not from being cold. If anything I was starting to burn from the inside out.

His fingers parted my pussy lips and his fingers began moving. Slowly at first, stroking up and down my wet slit. His other hand held me firm against him. I felt his cock against my ass. His hard length felt good against me. I pressed back while slowly moving my hips back and forth against his thickness. He slipped one finger inside me, then two. Slowly pumping, setting a lazy pace like we had all day to play.

Then he stroked up and squeezed my clit between two fingers. I thought my knees would buckle but he held me in place. Then he repeated the process again; gliding up and down before sinking back inside before toying with my clit again. Once, twice – again and again – so many times I lost count. Taking me right to the edge but not letting me come.

When I caught my breath, I slipped my hand between us and squeezed his thick cock. Wishing I could suck him into my mouth, but he held me tightly in place as his fingers continued their slow torture.

I matched his pace. Smiling as I felt him take in a quick breath. Slowly stroking up and down as his fingers glided up and down my pussy. Circling my hips and stroking as his fingers plunged inside me. Then squeezing his balls and cock as he squeezed my clit.

“You’re not playing fair,” he said.

“Two can play this game,” I say, not knowing how much longer I can take his slow, deliberate teasing.

Just a few more minutes pass before he says, “Enough!” and he flips me over on my stomach underneath him on the bed.

I feel him pull my thong to the side as he rubs his hand over my rounded hips.

I’m pinned beneath him, but I love the feel of his weight on me. I can feel his cock between my thighs right at the entrance of my pussy. If I could just push back a little he’d be inside me. His hand slips under me, lifting. Angling me. Then all at once he plunges his cock inside me. Hard and fast, just like I like it. Over and over, pumping in and out of me. It’s like he’s buried so deep in me he hits my cervix with every stroke.

His hand beneath me finds my clit again, teasing my hard nub as he stroked my pussy.
I know he could feel my pussy clench with each stroke. I had thought about his touch all morning, but nothing came close to the real thing.

He lifts his body enough for me to push up on my elbows. When I do, he manages to pull one of my breasts free from the corset. He squeezes my tit and pinches my nipple. All while never missing a stroke.

I can feel the orgasm building inside me. I know he knows.

“I can feel your pussy gripping my cock,” he says right next to my ear. “I can hear your breathing getting faster.”

His words made me even wetter.

“I jack off to thoughts of you when we can’t be together,” he said. “But nothing feels like your pussy when it grips my cock.”

A small moan escapes from my mouth. I can’t put a sentence together right now. His cock filling me, his words, his hands – all making it impossible to gather a rational thought. All I want is him.

I feel myself come apart. The orgasm hits hard and strong. In just a minute I feel him come. His hot semen gushing inside me.

He stays like that for a few minutes. His body draped over mine. Then he rolls to his side and pulls me against him.

We lay there for a little while. His hand slowly stroking along my hip and side. But we both know our time is almost up. I look at my watch then slowly push myself up. I’ve got to get dressed and head back to work.

He watches as I dress. Smiling up at me from the bed. I turn and use the mirror on his dresser to smooth my hair and adjust my dress. He stands and pulls on a pair of jeans to walk me to the door.

The goodbyes are always the hardest part. The more I see him, the harder it is to go. A quick kiss and a promise to call. Then I’m out the door.

As I drive away, I can’t help but lick my lips and smile and wonder what’s for lunch tomorrow?