The Good Night

The Good Night
By: Psyche Summer

The dull hum and drone of the photo-copier was giving Thomas a hard-on. Winding through his body like some sort of virus, causing his cock to expand in his lap, hardening as he watched her… the current of electricity that passed through his body, distracting him from his work, as he closes his eyes… trying to force out the thoughts of Natalie… his secretary, who stands before him, young and lithe, bent over the paper-feed, causing Thomas to clutch his desk, imagine ugly things… try… try to avoid temptation.

Thomas knew better. He really did. He was married. Happily enough. And she was getting married too. She had told him so, a month ago, confiding in him one morning over coffee, secrets shared between doughnuts and dossiers. He remembered how his anatomy had first responded to her that morning, flaring as her nimble fingers reached over him, to pluck a sugar packet from the box, her long, charcoal hair just brushing his arm… sending shivers up his spine. How she had taken him into her confidence that day… wrapped her longing around him like a sheath…. shying away at first… until she gradually let her guard down, letting him peel away the skin of her secrets, like an unfurling flower, gradually deeply. Until she is telling him of all of her fears, her hopes and her humiliations… her desire… for anal sex… she blushes as she says it… how she is so afraid that her boyfriend, her affianced will think she is dirty… a whore… so she keeps her desires hidden, blanketed under a vanilla veneer.

And now, as twilight turns to real darkness, as muffled footsteps fade into night, Thomas watches Natalie step away from the copier, watches her approach his desk, her girlish figure… so tantalizing… her warm olive skin…. her beautiful, full breasts…. So lovely. It makes him ache; she is so close… she smells clean… sweet… like daisies, as she casually begins to sort her papers, leaning against his desk, casually unaware that the sight of spandex stretched across her high, taut ass is sending her boss into seizures, raptures of desire. She is like Eve in the garden, her ass outstretched, like an apple in her trembling hand… just one bite of its sweet succulence… is all he wants: just one lingering taste.

So it is that he can hardly help himself in the end; he is an automaton, forgetting hearth and home, so seized is he by the siren’s song of her hovering, lingering ass, suspended in the air before him. So that without hardly knowing how or why, without premeditation (unless you count the hours and hours of self-induced pleasure, cumming into his hands between the sheets of his marriage bed, imagining her, down on her knees, her pleasant, yielding lips wrapped around his cock), he finds his hand, reaching out, touching down on the soft exterior, stroking the fine twin ellipses of her buttocks… feeling her muscles tense just once before they relax into the confines of his hand.

Is she surprised at his forwardness? Perhaps, but if so: not much. For instead of protesting, she bends down further, stretches her face towards his computer screen. Gently placing her hands on the desk before her.

“Don’t move.” He whispers.

Thomas is getting up, his heart is racing, but he calmly pads to the door, locking it against intruders before he returns…. And without preface, without introduction or ceremony, without any words at all, he is pulling the stretch of her pants down to her knees, running his hands over the fine, beehive of her ass, her skin, soooo smooth. He gropes the two halves of her ass, parting them like a carved melon, running his finger between the crack, letting it linger and probe along the meniscus of her hole, staring at its dark, brown kiss… savoring its unblemished innocence. With one hand he is unzipping his pants, letting his drawers fall to the floor, while his other hand feels its probing, winding fingers through the threshold, the entranceway to her ass… enjoying the shiver of her nervous excitement as the brunt of his manhood draws near. A little gasp as he grabs a fistful of her hair before pressing the tip of his dick against the flailing rim. Rubbing slick hands, wet with sweaty anticipation, against the stiff walls of his erection before testing it against the weight of her stubborn, virgin ass. Feelings erupt inside him, the death grip, tightness of her first refusal, the vice-like walls of her warm, throbbing hole as he pushes again… so that just the tip, the very tip… is slowly swallowed…. eliciting the first grit of her teeth, her first sensual, trembling moan. A moan that inspires a fever-fall of lust in Thomas such as he never knew, urging him on as he pushes further into her stain… like a hypodermic needle piercing the skin… pushing further, deeper into the well of her wiggling body. Finally, plunging beyond the collapse of resistant, heaving muscles, into the Elysium of the inner chassis of her ass, feeling the shudder of skin twitch around him, the thick warm velvet of her contracting muscles tensing with each and every wrenching thrust. Until Natalie’s scalp stings with the pain of his pull, her ass weeps as he descends upon her again and again, relentless, like a wakened beast, burying his fingers in the depths of her sopping, soaking cunt. His dick, engorged and bloated, reaching into the pinch of her loins, stretching the flesh around it, bending her bones…

She is capsized on the desk, a hailstorm of pain and joy… as moan after howling moan comes falling from her fevered lips. Thomas can feel his own dick between the walls of her cunt and her ass, sliding to-and-fro within her, his groping fingers pushing against her, increasing the pressure, the pleasure of her breaking in. His dick is fully inside her, plummeting with every heavy thud. His body. Slamming against her tender ass… over and over, until pulling out he cums… frothing all over the ridge of her pummeled, heaving bottom, smearing it over her body, the soapy, white strength of his seed. Before he releases her hair, pulls up her pants, petting her cum-stained ass one last lingering time for good measure… before kissing her once, on the crown of her head…. before, as night falls, he sends her on her way.

For my friend, Thomas