Ink and Afterparty

The bass from the company sound system thumped through the half-empty office floor like a slow heartbeat, but all I could feel was the heat pooling low in my belly as I watched Jax lean over the makeshift bar. Rain lashed the tall windows behind him, turning the city lights into smeared neon. He was the hired bartender for our annual office bash—tall, sleeves rolled high, every inch of his forearms covered in intricate black ink that disappeared under crisp white cuffs. I wanted to trace every line with my tongue.

I was supposed to be networking. Instead I kept drifting back for another whiskey sour, my silk blouse already sticking to my skin from the humid air and one too many stolen glances.

"Another round, Elena?" Jax asked, voice low and rough like gravel under boots. His dark eyes flicked over my cleavage, then back to my face with a knowing smirk.

"Yeah. Make it strong." I leaned on the bar, close enough to smell his cologne mixed with the sharp bite of spilled liquor. "Those tattoos… they go all the way up?"

He poured with steady hands, the muscles in his forearms flexing, making the ink seem to shift—dragons, roses, geometric patterns that screamed bad decisions in the best way. "Curious tonight, huh? Most of these suits just want to talk stock options."

I laughed softly, pulse racing. The party had thinned out; only a few clusters of colleagues lingered near the elevators. Rain hammered harder against the glass.

"Show me," I whispered, bravery spiking with the alcohol.

Jax glanced around, then rolled his sleeve higher, revealing a full sleeve of intertwined serpents and stars that climbed past his elbow. My fingers brushed his wrist before I could stop myself. The contact sent electricity straight to my clit.

"Break room’s empty," he murmured, eyes darkening. "Five minutes. You game?"

I nodded, heart hammering.

We slipped away before anyone noticed. The moment the door clicked shut behind us, Jax spun me against the wall, mouth crashing into mine. His hands were everywhere—palming my ass through my pencil skirt, yanking the fabric up. I moaned into his kiss, tasting whiskey and mint.

"Fuck, you’re soaked already," he growled against my lips, fingers sliding into my panties and finding my slick pussy. Two thick digits pushed inside me without warning, curling just right. I gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Jax… your ink… I want to see more." My voice came out breathy, needy.

He chuckled darkly, unzipping his pants with his free hand. His cock sprang out—thick, veined, the base decorated with a ring of sharp tribal lines that made my mouth water. "Then watch."

He spun me around, bent me over the low couch. My skirt bunched at my waist, panties yanked to the side. The rain outside masked my whimpers as he rubbed the fat head of his cock along my dripping slit.

"Quiet, Elena. Don’t want your boss hearing how bad you need this stranger’s dick."

"Please… just fuck me."

He thrust in hard, stretching my pussy in one smooth stroke. The sudden fullness made me bite my lip to keep from crying out. His hips slapped against my ass, the wet sounds filthy in the quiet room. Every thrust made his tattooed forearms flex beside my head as he braced on the couch.

"God, you’re tight. Gripping me like you’ve been waiting all night." He slowed, grinding deep, letting me feel every inch and every ridge of his cock. Then he picked up again, pounding faster, one hand sliding under my blouse to pinch my nipple.

I pushed back, meeting him thrust for thrust, the friction on my clit pushing me closer. The ink on his skin glistened with sweat under the dim emergency lights. I reached back, tracing a line of black down his arm while he fucked me senseless.

He pulled out suddenly, making me whine at the loss. "On your back. I want to watch your face when you come."

I flipped, legs spreading wide. Jax hooked one over his shoulder, sinking back into my soaked pussy in a single thrust. This angle hit deeper, rubbing that perfect spot inside. His free hand found my clit, rubbing tight circles while he drove into me.

"Look at me," he ordered. Our eyes locked. The slap of skin, my muffled moans, the distant thunder—everything blurred into raw pleasure.

"I’m gonna—Jax, I’m coming," I gasped.

"Come on my cock. Let me feel that pussy squeeze."

My orgasm crashed over me, walls pulsing around his thick length. He groaned, hips stuttering, then buried himself deep and spilled inside me—hot pulses of cum flooding my cunt. We stayed locked like that, breathing hard, his tattooed chest heaving against my breasts.

After a minute he pulled out slowly, watching his cum drip from my well-fucked pussy with a satisfied smirk. We straightened our clothes in silence, exchanging shy, heated glances.

Morning light filtered through the same rain-streaked windows as I nursed coffee in the now-quiet office kitchen. Jax had stayed to help clean up; he poured himself a cup, forearm tattoos on full display again. Our eyes met over the rims. A slow smile curved his lips.

"Same time next quarter?" he asked quietly.

I bit my lip, heat blooming low once more. "Only if you show me the ones on your back."

CATEGORIES: [Tattoos, Office Party, Big Cock, In the Office, Mature, Rough sex, Creampie]