Flashy Stereotypes

Here is a little flash fiction for a hump day. 

I heard those heels click outside my office. Like darts stabbing my groin. My weakness. My fetish. Women, business women, dominant in their walk. Captivating. Intriguing. Sexy as hell. I immediately jumped from my desk and hit my thigh on the corner. I was in a rush. Can you blame me? Did you not hear those clicks go by my door. I managed a glimpse. She wore a trench coat that fell knee high. This woman was all business. Most likely wore power dress. Her muscular calf hammered another heel into the floor, my heart. Forgetting my bruised thigh, impaling my lust for more. 

Like a school kid, I double stepped to catch up. The smoothness of her leg dangled in my mind. I needed to lick the salt of her golden skin. 

She entered the elevator and spun. Her blonde hair drew attention as it flipped over her shoulders. She grabbed her over coat and ripped it open with a smile. This is where my jaw dropped. The bulge in my pants sprung to attention. She flashed me. Naked as a baby, she flashed me. Her skin glistened, demanded to be sipped. It begged for my hands, my lips, my cock. Breasts so succulently round with hardened nipples. My eyes traced slowly to her sex. The doors shut and I could see her smirk. I nearly slammed into the elevator. I watched as it started its climb upward. I dashed to the stairs and began to leap several steps at a time. Three floors later I opened the stairwell door and there she stood. Elevator doors open, awaiting me. 

She smiled. “You looking for…..this ?” 

She ran her fingers over her wetness. Leaving a trail to her cleavage until she tasted herself. I immediately entered and locked the elevator in place. My eyes devoured her body until I noticed she bit her bottom lip. “Yes….I…..” was all the response I had. 

I moved into her coat and engaged in a deep erotic kiss. I had to have this business woman. This demand for my attention. This very sexy and powerful woman. 

I tugged her blonde locks and off came a wig. I didn’t care. Her hair underneath was shorter but I didn’t care. I wanted her. I grabbed at her shortened hair. Harder and forcefully kissed her deeper. She unbuttoned my pants and pulled my shirt out. 

My hand found her breast. It felt better than it looked. My mouth found her breast. My lips sucked on her nipple. She sighed with an internal scream for more. My cock pulsated in her hand. We were two animals engaged in pure sexually energy. 

Her coat fell to the floor as tattoos painted her skin. I grabbed her ass and picked her up. I slid myself into her warmth. The heated breaths echoed as moans. They were the fuel for each other’s desire. 

She grasped at my hair. I plunged deeper inside her. Moans became groans. Grunts became growls. This animalistic urge slammed repeatedly into the fire. She tightened herself around my hips. Her fever grew. I felt like I was about to black out. My hips pulverized between her’s. She clawed her nails into my skin. The wave of emotions flooded with my manhood.  

That’s when I noticed it was the purple haired, punk rock girl from the mailroom. 

“Wow!” What an incredible body I thought. I never knew with her loose clothes and torn sneakers. 

She smiled at me and whispered “There is so much more you have been missing there mister….”

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