Midnight in the Supply Closet

"God, Sarah, you really shouldn't be here this late," I whispered, my voice barely cutting through the hum of the empty office. The open-plan floor was dark except for the glow from my monitor. I'd been finishing the quarterly reports when Lisa, the external auditor, had shown up with that wicked little smile.

She leaned against my desk, her blouse unbuttoned just enough to show the lace edge of her bra. "Couldn't sleep knowing you were all alone with these numbers, Emily. Besides, your husband's out of town, right? No one waiting up for you."

I felt my cheeks burn. "He's... yeah. Conference in Chicago. But we're married, Lisa. This is crazy."

Her laugh was low and throaty. "Crazy's what makes it hot. You've been staring at my ass every time I bend over your desk for two weeks. Don't think I didn't notice, shy girl."

I swallowed hard, glancing around the silent office. "Okay, fine. Maybe I've looked. But we can't... here."

She took my hand, tugging me toward the supply closet at the back. "Then let's not be here. In there. Come on."

The door clicked shut behind us, plunging us into a tiny space that smelled like paper and warm toner cartridges stacked on metal shelves. A dim emergency light buzzed overhead. My heart hammered so loud I was sure she could hear it.

"Relax," Lisa breathed, pressing close. Her breath was warm against my ear. "No one's coming. Just us. Fuck, Emily, you're so pretty when you blush like that. Those big doe eyes... I bet your pussy's already wet for me."

"Lisa!" I gasped, but my thighs clenched together. "You can't just say stuff like that."

"Why not? It's true, isn't it?" Her voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Tell me. Are your panties soaked thinking about what I might do to you?"

I nodded before I could stop myself. "Yeah... they are. This is so wrong. I'm married. But god, the way you flirt with me every audit... I touch myself thinking about it sometimes."

Her soft moan filled the cramped closet. "Mmm, that's my good girl. Hands at your sides, okay? No touching me yet. Let's make this hands-free. Just words and that pretty mouth of yours."

I pressed my back against the shelves, toner cartridges digging into my shoulder blades. "What do you mean?"

"Watch." She stepped back a fraction, her skirt riding up as she widened her stance. One hand braced on the wall beside my head, but she didn't reach for me. Instead she started rolling her hips in slow, filthy circles. "Look at my body moving for you. Imagine my clit rubbing against my thong right now... getting all swollen and slick."

"Fuck, Lisa..." My own hips twitched in response. I could feel my nipples tightening against my conservative blouse. "You're so bold. I wish I could be like that."

"You are," she panted, eyes locked on mine. "I see how you squeeze your thighs when I lean over you. Bet your married little pussy is throbbing. Tell me how wet you are. Describe it."

My breath came faster. The air between us felt electric. "I'm dripping, okay? My panties are clinging to me. Every time you call me pretty my clit pulses so hard it hurts."

"Good girl. Keep talking. Rub your thighs together for me. No hands. Just like that... yeah. Fuck, look at you grinding. I want to taste that shy married cunt so bad, but this is hotter. Getting off on just our words in this dirty little closet."

I whimpered, pressing my legs tight and rocking. The friction was maddening, not enough but perfect at the same time. "Lisa, your tits look amazing when you breathe like that. I want to suck them. I fantasize about burying my face between them while you call me your good little bookkeeper."

She laughed breathlessly, grinding the air like she was riding an invisible cock. "Oh shit, yes. Keep going. My nipples are so hard for you. Imagine me pinching them while I watch you come undone. Are you close already? Such a needy slut under that good-girl act."

"God, yes... I'm close," I gasped. My voice cracked. The smell of toner and her perfume mixed with the unmistakable scent of our arousal. "Your voice is driving me crazy. The way you say 'slut' like that... I'm rubbing my clit against my panties just from squeezing my legs. Fuck, Lisa, I'm gonna come if you keep talking dirty."

"Do it then," she urged, her own hips jerking faster. Her skirt was bunched up, and I could see the wet patch on her lace thong. "Come for me, Emily. Let that married pussy cream itself while I watch. No hands, just like good girls who sneak into closets should. I'm right there with you... my clit is aching so fucking bad."

My knees shook. I stared at her flushed face, at the way her breasts heaved with every panting breath. "I'm coming... oh shit, Lisa, I'm coming so hard. Your eyes... the way you're looking at me... fuck!"

My orgasm hit like a wave, sharp and sudden. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, thighs clamped tight as my pussy spasmed and soaked through my panties. Juices trickled down my leg.

"Fuuuck, yes... me too," Lisa moaned, her body shuddering. She didn't touch herself either, just rode the air with desperate little thrusts until her eyes fluttered and she let out a long, shaky groan. "Coming... oh god, your voice when you come is so hot. My pussy's pulsing so much... dripping all over my thighs."

We stood there for a moment, breathing hard in the tiny space, foreheads almost touching. The toner cartridges rattled softly as I sagged against the shelf.

"Wow," I whispered, a shy laugh escaping. "That was... intense. I can't believe we just did that."

Lisa grinned, still catching her breath. "Told you it'd be hot. Next time maybe we actually touch. Or maybe we do this again tomorrow night. Your husband won't mind if the books are extra accurate, right?"

I smoothed my skirt, cheeks burning but feeling more alive than I had in years. "Maybe. But only if you promise to keep calling me your good girl."

"Deal," she whispered, stealing one soft kiss before cracking the door. "Now get back to those reports, bookkeeper. Before someone wonders why the supply closet smells like sex."