Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 An Oral Encounter

   by Knight of Passion

   Story Codes: M/F, oral

   ----- My stories are works of fiction, and should not be interpreted as
condoning illegal acts.  Be smart.

   Please send comments, feedback, questions or criticism to
x.knightofpassion.x@googlemail.com, or check my blog at
http://knightofpassion.livejournal.com.

   Knight ----

   They met at the elevator, as they did every Friday night: always the
last to leave, always alone.  It had become something of a ritual, and it
was his private torture.  God, he wanted her so much.  The prospect of
another lonely evening, his mind filled with images of her, loomed before
him.

   But not this time, he promised silently.  This time will be different.

   He steeled himself as she approached, trying not to stare at the
voluptuous figure beneath her formal black business suit, the enticing
curve of breast visible beneath her crisp white shirt.  Her lips and
fingernails were scarlet, her only concession to colour.  Her legs were
long and elegant, her skin the colour and purity of fresh milk.  She stood
next to him and pressed the already-illuminated button for the elevator,
just as she always did.

   He cleared his throat.

   "Oh, hey," he said hesitantly.  "I was hoping I'd see you."

   She turned to regard him with a cool, calculating look.  "Oh?" she
breathed.

   "Yeah, I was wondering if you'd maybe like to go out or something. 
Y'know, maybe dinner?  I thought you could give me your number, and I could
-"

   "You could what?" she interrupted with something approaching a sneer,
then looked him up and down and smiled wickedly.  "Come with me."

   She turned and walked away.  Glancing at the elevator, he swallowed
nervously and followed after, watching her long legs and round, pert
buttocks.  She stalked these corridors like a goddess, bewitching but
untouchable.  He had tried to ask her out every night for the last year,
and now he had finally found the courage, she was - she was what?  He
swallowed nervously.

   She stopped outside the staff bathroom, and he blinked.  "Well?" she
said, and he hurridly pulled open the door for her.  She swept past him,
his nostrils filling with her intoxicating scent, and he followed after.

   Suddenly, dizzyingly, she was on her knees in front of him, her fingers
squeezing the bulge of his penis, her tongue pressed against her top lip,
hot pink flesh against blazing scarlet lipstick.  Without a word, she
deftly unzipped his trousers and pulled out his hardening cock.  She
inspected his modest seven-inch length clinically as he fought for breath,
then, slowly, tantalisingly, ran her tongue along the underside from his
balls to the swollen head and back again.

   He gasped as she started to pump his cock in her fist, her tongue
lashing the sensitive glans, her sensual mouth twisted in an expression
that was half desire and half contempt.  He almost found the words to
demand an explanation when she licked her lips and took the head of his
cock into her mouth, and his eyes rolled up into his head and any coherent
thought was impossible.  Harder and harder she sucked him, caring little
for the duration of the encounter, fixated instead on his inevitable
orgasm, that dark, exhilarating heat that was already building inside of
him.

   Her lips tightened around his cock, leaving a smear of scarlet lipstick
on his swollen shaft.  He groaned and fought the urge to thrust deeper into
her mouth, but she bobbed her head eagerly and he felt the tip of his cock,
slick with pre-cum, touch the back of her throat.  A series of hard sucks
that took him to the very brink of orgasm, then she withdrew a little,
relinquished her grip on his balls and licked the tip lovingly.

   The sight of her pink tongue and hot red lip sat work on his tumescent
prick was too much for him.  His senses overwhelmed, he surrendered himself
to the pleasure, and embraced the fiery lust detonating in his stomach. 
His cock straining and twitching, a hot gush of sticky jizz splashed on her
tongue, quickly followed by another.  He groaned in pleasure and pulled
back, oozing a creamy trail of cum across her scarlet lips.  A thick
droplet slipped down her chin and fell, slowly and sexily, into her
heaving, glistening cleavage.  She grasped the thick shaft of his penis and
rubbed the slick tip against her lips, milking it of every drop of precious
fluid.

   Reaching up, she curled her fingers around the collar of his shirt and
roughly pulled him down to her level, then their lips met in a long, hot
kiss, her cum-covered tongue pressing deep and hard into his mouth, her
lips slippery and hot with his salty wad.  He moaned and pulled her tightly
against him, his fingers cradling her buttocks as his tongue sought out
every droplet of delicious cum from her mouth.  She broke the kiss with a
breathless gasp of desire, and his eager tongue licked the thin ooze of cum
that had run down her chin.  She smiled wickedly, then tilted back her head
and opened her mouth.  He leaned over her, and slowly allowed the thick
mouthful of spunk to slip between her lips.  She swallowed eagerly, her
tongue catching the errant droplets that dribbled over her pouty lower lip,
her eyes closed, her expression one of sinful indulgence.

   A final kiss, and they parted.  He got to his feet, straightening his
clothing, zipping up his fly, watching her as she scooped up the last of
his cum from between her breasts and sucked on the finger.  He smiled.

   "So, do I get your number now?"

   "No," she replied coolly, moving to the mirror to reapply her lipstick.
"But I'll be here next week."

   "Well, alright," he murmured, watching her straighten her make-up and
prepare to leave.  "I'll be here."

   "Good.  Oh, and next time?" she said, breezing past him to the exit. 
"Bring a friend."



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