Page 12 of Christmas Obsession

“I saw your dick.” I hold my mouth open, wondering if the snow has caused some form of psychosis. I’ve heard about this happening with the hermits that live up in the mountains, but I thought it took months to show signs, not hours. Also, I should never be trusted with a local beer ever again. “You were hard. It’s okay. We should get all this out in the open so it’s not awkward between us when all this is over, ya know?”

He nods slowly before scratching the bridge of his nose. “You want things out in the open?”

I nod. “Yeah, I think we should be real with each other. I mean, we’ve worked together for a decade. I don’t want to ruin the relationship we’ve built.”

For a moment there’s silence. Not a single word spoken. The only noises in the room are the hum of the heater and the wind whipping against the windowsill.

“Would it ruin the relationship we built if I told you I went into that bathroom, tugged my cock out, and jerked off to thoughts of you?”

My clit throbs and my panties dampen. “What?”

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, dark ink glinting against the shadowed light of the lamp. “I went into the bathroom, locked the door, and let my mind run wild with thoughts of the sounds you’d make as I bent you over my desk and took your tight, little virgin pussy for myself.”

I need a drink! I need air! I need him to do every filthy thing he just spoke of right now!

“So,” his stare meets mine heavily, “would it ruin our relationship if I told you that, ‘cause I’m thinking it would.”

Tugging on the lobe of my ear, I glance away. “I touch myself to thoughts of you too.”

Again, there’s silence as he stares toward me, and though I’m not trying to look, I see the hard ridge of his cock tighten the leg of his jeans. “Tell me. Tell me what you think about, sweetheart. I need to know.”

Sweetheart. He called me sweetheart.

My pussy tightens and my skin prickles as he stares at me, my heart hammering as I contemplate how to tell him the filthy things I think about him in the same sexy way he just spoke to me.

“Umm,” I swallow hard, “I, ugh, I think about you bossing me around, telling me where you want me, then I imagine you bending me over, sinking inside of me, spreading me wide, pulling my hair, and growling like an animal.”

“Fuck,” he moans before folding his arms over his chest as though he’s trying to restrain himself. “How often do you think that?”

“Every night,” I whisper, my gaze on his as my chest rises and falls quickly. “How often do you, umm… think these things.”

“Multiple times a day. I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “I’ve jerked off in my office watching you through the lines in the shades.”

Maybe this should turn me off. Maybe it’s weird. Maybe this is totally inappropriate and we’re making a huge mistake by saying any of this. Maybe the door didn’t get closed tight enough and some kind of gas is leaking in from the generator causing all this craziness.

“I’ve touched myself here too,” I continue.

He tilts his head back once, his body stiff. “Where?”

“At my desk.”

“How?”

“I keep a little vibrator in my bottom drawer.”

“Show me.”

“What?” My panties dampen.

“Show me the vibrator.”

Oh God! Is he really saying these things or did I slip and fall on the sidewalk and now I’m imagining all this?

“Show me the vibrator,” he says again, his tone stern.

Panties sopping wet, I stand from the chair, walk over to my desk, and pull open the bottom drawer, tugging out the little tube of lipstick that isn’t a tube of lipstick at all.

“Turn it on.” His shoulders rise and fall slowly as he leans forward.