Silk and Shutter

The empty office smelled of stale coffee and printer ink, but all I could focus on was Lena’s long legs as she leaned against the conference table in nothing but a sheer white blouse and tiny black panties. My cock was already half-hard behind my camera. Tension crackled between us the second the last employee left and the locks clicked.

“These are the panties you wanted me to wear, right?” Lena asked, voice low and teasing. She hooked a finger under the thin waistband and tugged it up so the fabric cupped her pussy tighter. “They’re soaked already, Mark. You like that?”

I swallowed, lens fogging slightly from my breath. “Fuck yes. Don’t move.”

The camera clicked as I dropped to one knee, framing the way the silk clung to her trimmed lips. She parted her thighs wider, letting me see the damp patch spreading. My free hand slid up her calf, then higher, until my thumb brushed the wet crotch of her panties. Lena shivered and let out a soft moan.

“Touch me properly,” she whispered, eyes locked on mine. “I’ve been thinking about your fingers all week.”

I set the camera on the table, stood, and cupped her mound through the silk. She was burning hot. I rubbed slow circles over her clit until the material was drenched and her hips rocked against my palm. “You’re such a dirty little model,” I murmured, slipping two fingers under the edge of the panties. Her slick folds parted easily; I pushed inside her tight pussy, curling them deep.

Lena gasped, grabbing my shoulders. “Yes… like that. Deeper.” Her voice cracked as I pumped faster, the wet sounds echoing in the quiet office. She reached down and stroked my cock through my jeans, squeezing the thick ridge. “I want this inside me. Take the panties off or fuck me in them, I don’t care.”

I spun her around, bending her over the polished table. The city lights glittered through the windows but no one could see us up here. I yanked her panties to the side, not bothering to remove them, and freed my aching cock. The head nudged her slippery entrance. With one thrust I buried myself balls-deep in her dripping pussy.

“God, you’re tight,” I groaned, gripping her hips. I started pounding her hard, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room. Each stroke made her panties tug against her clit. Lena pushed back, moaning loudly, her tits pressed to the cool wood.

“Harder, Mark… fuck my pussy like you own it.” She reached between her legs and rubbed her clit furiously while I railed her. Her walls fluttered, then clamped down as she came with a sharp cry, juices soaking my balls and the crotch of her ruined panties.

I pulled out, spun her to face me, and lifted her onto the table. She spread her legs wide, panties still hooked to one side, glistening with her cum. I drove back in, this time slower, watching her face twist in pleasure. Her hands clutched my shirt as I ground deep, hitting that spot that made her tremble.

“Fill me up,” she begged, voice husky. “I want to feel you cum inside me while I’m still wearing these.”

That did it. I thrust faster, chasing my release. Her pussy milked me perfectly. With a low growl I buried myself to the hilt and erupted, thick ropes of cum flooding her spasming cunt. We stayed locked together, panting, my seed leaking around my cock and soaking into the black silk even more.

Finally I eased out. Lena slid off the table on shaky legs, the panties now a sticky, cum-stained mess clinging to her swollen pussy. She gave me a wicked smile and snapped the waistband.

“Next shoot,” she said, voice still breathy, “we do this with the red lace ones. And you keep the camera rolling the whole time.”

I kissed her hard, tasting her lipstick and the promise of more filthy nights in empty offices.