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She tried to look anywhere except at him, but he commanded the room with his personality, and demanded her attention. A secret fear tingled throughout her body, one she'd come to recognize well these past two years. No way she could deny it anymore or the thrill she got from it. Risk. That's what it was really about, that almost giddy surge, the reckless abandon--the risk.
She imagined that big, warm body of his, spread like a feast ... She knew exactly what she'd do. Pull off that ridiculous tie and button-down shirt--maybe rip the shirt, popping buttons everywhere. She'd push him onto the conference table. Next, she'd take off her blouse and rub her breasts over the coarse hair on his flat belly. Then she'd slide lower, undo the buckle of his belt, unzip those slacks and let the bulge of his magnificent cock spring free.
Would he taste as good as he looked? She wanted to find out. She licked her lips and clenched her thighs as heat pooled low within her. He'd be stiff and ready for her pleasure. The door would be open only enough for a sliver of light to escape. Someone could walk in at any minute and see them.
He'd beg her to straddle him, ride him hard. She'd climb onto the table and ever-so-slowly ease herself down over his cock, watch that steel-like rod disappear from view.
A noise outside would cause them to look at the door. Wonder if they had been caught. But she wouldn't stop. No, she'd slide him in deeper, make him call out her name and risk exposure.
It was her favorite fantasy, her constant desire.
