Pantyhose in the Dusty Stacks

"Lena, spread your legs." I don't ask—I just take her knee in my palm, feeling the smooth mesh of her pantyhose stretch under my fingers. Rain hammers against the windows, the green glow of the lamp spills across her thigh, and I can see her biting her lip. Her blouse is unbuttoned two buttons down, chestnut hair a mess, breath ragged.

"Viktor Pavlovich..." she whispers, but she spreads her legs wider anyway, the pantyhose whispering as they strain across her inner thighs. "What if security comes?"

"Let them watch." I drag my fingers up her thigh, higher, toward the hot seam beneath the fabric. She's wet even through the nylon. "You've wanted this all night."

She doesn't answer, just watches my fingers press slowly into her cunt through the mesh. Then she exhales: "Yeah... I have."

I didn't tear them. Just pulled the pantyhose aside along with her thin panties. Her smooth-shaved pussy was already glistening with slick. I ran my tongue over her clit—slow, then faster. Lena dug her fingers into my hair.

"Oh, fuck me... yeah... deeper..."

Her thighs were trembling. I pushed two fingers into her hot, tight slit, working my tongue at the same time. The pantyhose stretched and creaked with every movement of her legs. She started grinding her hips against my face, whimpering softly.

A couple minutes later she arched hard, clamping down on my fingers, and came—loud, unrestrained. Her juice ran down my palm and soaked into the nylon.

"Enough... I need you inside me," she almost growled. "Now."

I got up, spun her around to face the desk. Lena hiked her skirt up to her waist herself. I unzipped my pants fast. My hard cock was already throbbing. I ran the head along her soaked slit, smearing the wetness around.

"Tell me what you want," I said, slapping her ass through the pantyhose.

"Fuck me, Viktor... hard. I'm your slut tonight."

I slammed into her in one sharp thrust. She gasped, gripping the edge of the desk. The books rattled. I fucked her deep, rhythmic, each stroke pulling a moan from her throat. The pantyhose stayed between us the whole time—I felt the fine mesh against my thighs as I drove into her to the root.

"More... harder... tear me apart..." She turned her head, looking back at me over her shoulder. Her eyes were almost black with lust.

I leaned in, grabbed her hair, yanked her head back. With my other hand I reached under the pantyhose from the front and started rubbing her clit. Lena shook all over.

"I'm gonna come again... fuck... I'm coming!"

Her pussy clenched hard around my cock. I couldn't hold back. I pulled out, spun her around, and pushed her down onto her knees on the old rug. Lena grabbed my cock, slick with her own juice, and started sucking—deep, sloppy, staring up into my eyes.

"Come in my mouth... give me every drop..." she whispered, licking the head.

I grabbed her head and came—hard, thick, hot streams. She swallowed all of it without pulling away, just moaning softly.

Afterward we sat on the floor among the scattered books. Lena pressed against me, still in her pantyhose, torn in half a dozen places. The wine in our glasses had long gone flat.

"You know," she traced a finger across my chest, "every time I put on pantyhose for work now, I'm gonna think about you fucking me in this library."

I smiled, kissing her temple.

"Then wear them more often. Tomorrow. And no panties."

"Deal, boss," she said with a sly grin. "But from now on, you're dictating more than just reports to me."