社内パーティーの秘密

The music was so loud I could feel the bass thumping in my chest. I'd caught her eye across the room three times that night. The waitress named Lada slid past my table, her hip brushing lightly against my knee. Heat shot straight to my dick.

"You again, Dima?" she whispered, leaning down to set a glass on the table. Her breath burned against my ear. "Stop looking at me like that, or everyone's going to notice."

"And what if I want you to notice?" I murmured, letting my fingers trail across her wrist where no one could see. Her skin was hot, slightly damp from working the room.

The office party had already turned into a chaotic hive—colleagues shouting toasts, someone dancing on the floor, and me and Lada continuing this game we'd started three months ago at my favorite café. But tonight, everything had to stay a secret.

She came back a minute later, pretending to check if everything was okay. This time, her hand found my thigh under the tablecloth.

"You're especially bold tonight," she breathed, her fingers creeping higher. "What if I can't hold back and I drag you out of here right now?"

"Then drag me," I challenged, locking eyes with her. My cock was already hard, straining against my dress pants.

Lada glanced around, grabbed my hand, and pulled me through the crowd toward the service hallway. The door to the storage room clicked shut behind us. It was dark, smelling of coffee and her perfume. She pressed me back against the wall, her palm immediately landing on my bulge.

"I've wanted to touch this all night," she whispered hungrily, unbuckling my belt. "Your thick Russian cock, the one I still remember the taste of."

I slid my hands under her short waitress skirt, found her thin panties, and pushed them aside. My fingers dove straight into her slick heat.

"Fuck, Lada, you're already soaking..." I groaned. She let out a low, dirty laugh.

"You think? Every time you order coffee and stare at my tits, I'm picturing you fucking me."

She dropped to her knees on the cold tile floor. Her skirt rode up, exposing her firm ass. Lada wrapped her lips around my cock, slowly taking me all the way to the base. I groaned, gripping her hair. Her tongue worked me so skillfully my knees went weak. She'd speed up, then pause, looking up at me and whispering:

"You like how I suck it? Say it... tell me you want me harder."

"I want all of you," I rasped, pulling her to her feet. I spun her around to face the table, bent her over it. Her palms hit the wooden surface, her tits pressed flat against it. I hiked her skirt all the way up and slammed into her wet pussy in one hard thrust.

Lada arched her back, letting out a quiet moan:

"Yes... just like that... deeper, Dima. Fuck me like we're not at a company party."

I started slow, savoring every inch of her hot walls clenching around me so tightly. Then I picked up the pace. The sound of our bodies—skin slapping against skin—filled the tiny room. I leaned down and whispered into the back of her neck:

"Imagine all your coworkers right outside that door... and here you are, bent over, taking my cock."

"That makes me even hotter," she gasped, pushing her hips back to meet me. "Cum inside me... I want to feel you pulsing in there."

I grabbed her hair and sped up. Her moans grew louder, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming. Suddenly Lada's body tensed, her pussy clenching hard around me. She came first, trembling all over, whispering my name.

I couldn't hold back. Hot cum shot into her in powerful waves. We froze, both breathing hard.

A minute later, she turned around, kissed me on the lips, and laughed—light and playful.

"So, is the secret still a secret?" she asked, smoothing down her skirt.

"For now," I said, grinning and kissing the tip of her nose. "But I already want a repeat."

We both laughed, straightening ourselves out. The tension was gone, leaving only a pleasant exhaustion and the anticipation of the next time.