back arched and she slid her feet over my thighs.
I grabbed her legs and pushed them apart, her skirt riding up around her waist. Yes, this was just how I’d imagined her.
“Christ, Harper, you’re not wearing underwear.”
She tilted her head. “Is that what you imagined?”
I lifted her legs, putting them over my shoulders, and dipped my head. “Yeah, you making my desk all wet.” I breathed over her pussy. She moaned, her pitch getting higher as I licked over her slit before slipping a thumb into her entrance. “I fantasized about making you come on this desk.” I circled her clit with my tongue and she slid down onto her back as if admitting defeat, her fingers snaking through my hair. She’d come to get fucked in the office and she was about to get her wish.
Her moans got louder and louder as her pussy got wetter and wetter. For a brief moment I worried we’d be overheard, but fuck it, I was the boss and I could do what I wanted with the woman who I was going to be with for the rest of my life.
I fumbled with my fly, my erection straining almost painfully against my zipper. It sprung free and I fisted it in my hand. Eating her out here, making her crazy with my tongue, the lights of the city behind me, the wealth of Manhattan around us, made me feel like a king.
“I have to fuck you,” I said, peeling her legs from around my neck and standing. I dropped my pants and plunged into her. Jesus, she was always so fucking tight. Her hands reached behind her for the edge of the desk as she tried to resist my thrusts pushing her off the other side. She was perfect. I circled my hands around her waist and pulled her onto me harder as she began to twist her hips. She was too close, too soon.
“I think you fantasized about this too,” I said, slamming into her again and again.
She cried out. “Max.” Her calling my name was always the starting pistol for my orgasm. I thrust harder and she screamed louder, “Max, Max, oh Jesus.”
Just before I came I pulled out of her and pulled her up. “Lean over, I want to see that beautiful ass bent over my desk.” If she wanted to give me my fantasy, I wanted the whole thing.
She grinned and spun around, her heels thrusting her firm, tight ass in the air. Her arms spread across the desk, my papers flying off the edges. “You want me like this?” she asked.
I responded by parting her legs slightly and thrusting into her again. My force pushed her further onto the desk and she curled her fingers around the edge as if hanging on for her life.
“Yes,” I groaned. “This is how I wanted you, that first day you stepped into my office.” She shuddered underneath me, the start of her orgasm stirring across her skin. “And how I’ve thought about you every day since.”
“Max,” she whimpered, lifting up her head with what energy she had left. “Please, God, Max.” And she tightened and stilled and I allowed myself a final thrust before pouring into her and collapsing over her back.
We stayed there for a minute or so, panting, our clothes half hanging off us, sweaty and rumpled.
“Well, that was a nice surprise,” I said as I stood up, fastening my pants.
Harper was still wobbly on her feet as she got up from the desk and I reached out to steady her. “I thought it was weird we’d never fucked here, given this was where it all began,” she said and glanced around my office while doing up her blouse.
Bending forward, I gave her a kiss on the lips. “It doesn’t have to be a one-time deal,” I said. “I’m all for working late if this is the reward I get.” I didn’t work late in the office very often. I still only spent two nights a week in Manhattan and both those nights were always spent with Harper.
“You get plenty of rewards, my friend,” she said, smoothing her hand over my chest.
I grabbed her wrist. “I want more.”
She opened her mouth slightly and I could tell she had some sarcastic comeback and then changed her mind about sharing it with me. “More?” she asked.
I nodded. “For us, for you and me. I want us to be fucking on my desk when we’re ninety and have been married sixty years