Naked Sushi. Jina Bacarr

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      On the other, I was scared shitless.

      What if I disappointed him?

      This was a common problem with me. Analyzing the hell out of everything I did, even sex. I was no sleek avenger with all the right moves. I was more like the sassy-mouthed brainiac in the spy flicks who sat at her computer, tapping out answers on her fancy keyboard. Not that I’m bad looking, but I came off as an easy mark when I tried to flirt. I was too eager to please without thinking about the consequences.

      Not tonight.

      Sexually charged up, incredibly intense, I decided to go for it. I stepped out of my ordinary world and relished this escape from reality. My blue-rimmed spectacles slid all the way down my perspiration-slick nose. I didn’t push them back up.

      How could I?

      I was completely helpless in his arms when his hand dropped down between my legs, his fingers pressing against me. I wiggled my ass. I wished my jeans were off and he was pushing through my pubic hair until he found my throbbing clit.

      Just thinking about it made me moan again; the steady pressure of his fingers rubbing against the rough denim stressed me out. I sensed this man possessed an enjoyment of sex that went way beyond a casual cop-a-feel.

      A buzzing excitement slithered through me when I rubbed up against him, primal-like, daring him to tame me. I imagined him pulling down my jeans and panties and then probing me with his tongue, massaging all around my clitoris with his mouth. I growled, the low sound coming from the back of my throat.

      That aroused him more.

      I wiggled my hips, hoping he’d get the message. Something about the methodical yet sensual way he touched me set off a slow burn between my legs I couldn’t ignore.

      “Don’t stop,” I whispered, pulling on the drawstring of his sweats, but I couldn’t untie the knot. “It feels so good.”

      “You tempt me, babe,” he said, kissing the nape of my neck. “Are there cameras in here?”

      I shake my head. “Mr. Briggs is too cheap for that.”

      “Then what are we waiting for?” He kissed me again, deeper this time, his hands holding me tighter. Pulling at my jeans and searching for the zipper hidden beneath the button-down flap in front.

      “Allow me.” I unbuttoned the flap, nearly ripping it off.

      “I’m curious,” he said, drawing down the zipper on my jeans with an alacrity that set me on edge. “How did you know I was in here?”

      “I didn’t. I thought everyone had gone home.”

      “You’re sure no one’s around?” He nibbled on my earlobe and then licked all around my ear until I shivered with pleasure.

      “Yes. It’s Super Tuesday.”

      “What’s that?” he asked.

      “Poker night. The guys meet at Sam’s Bar after work and memorize cards.” A lightbulb moment flickered in my brain, making me ask, “How come they didn’t invite you?”

      “I prefer strip poker.” He ran his fingers over my bare midriff, digging them down into the elastic waistband of my panties. I moaned and instinctively pushed against him. From the grin on his face, I could see he was turned-on.

      “How about a game of Five-Card Stud?” I mumbled no louder than a whisper. Could he smell my need, moistening my panties with droplets of desire?

      I could, which meant I couldn’t wait much longer.

      “I’ve got a winning hand right here,” he said, grabbing my ass.

      What would happen next, I could only guess. Anticipation, I found out, could be as good as or better than the sex.

      I didn’t have long to wait to find out.

      He turned me around and faced me toward the copier and then slid my jeans down below my thighs. Next, he pulled down my black silky panties and then ran his finger up and down the crack in my rear, eliciting a moan from me. I wiggled my butt as his fingers moved up and down in an intimate manner so close to my anal hole I couldn’t stop panting.

      The naughty girl in me was overly excited by what was happening to me in the chilly copy room. I felt daring with my pants down in this high-tech room in an old Victorian mansion, once the seat of respectability.

      And, boy, was I turned-on.

      In spite of the air-cooled temp, I seethed with heated anticipation when he positioned himself behind me and then eased forward to push the bulge in his pants against my bare butt. I heard the snap of a condom.

      “Is that a new one?” I asked him, hopeful.

      That surprised him. “Don’t worry,” he said, laughing. “The expiration date is years away.”

      I sighed, relieved. If I were thinking straight, that would have alerted me that something was wrong. Most programmers I knew carry subprime, expired condoms. But I wasn’t thinking straight. Instead, I twisted my head around and saw him pull out his dick and slip a raincoat over it.

      Jeez.

      “Big” didn’t begin to describe him.

      I licked my lips.

      I arched my back in total surrender when I felt his erect cock push against the cheeks of my backside. He found me wet and ready for him when he inserted one finger and then two inside me. Without a word, he slid into me with ease. I rode him without fear, his cock moving in and out of me, my passion building, his breathing becoming more erratic with each thrust. I squeezed my eyes, and I swear tears escaped onto my cheeks. My feelings became so intense I couldn’t help myself.

      I moaned and moaned and moaned.

      I didn’t care about anything else then. All I could do was let go. I couldn’t believe my luck. This was me, Pepper, desired by a sexy man. Instead of always being on the outside looking at the cool people, I was having a booty call at midnight, and it was sublime.

      His hips smacked into my butt, pushing his cock into me, his breathing coming loud and fast. I could barely utter a word. My throat was hoarse from letting go of my emotions and the pent-up feelings buried so deep inside me. I couldn’t wait for release. I swear he sensed my desperation. He nuzzled his face in my hair, muttering sexy endearments in my ear, his musky, intoxicating smell overwhelming me. Then he fucked me harder, his thrusts stronger, his rhythm unchanging as his cock filled me until it was almost painful. I didn’t care.

      “Harder,” I yelled.

      The stirrings of a powerful orgasm built inside me. That delicious spiral of something intangible swirling around inside you. Promising you a taste of pleasure beyond what you’ve experienced; pleasure you will do anything for.

      I couldn’t hold back much longer.

      I leaned forward over the copy machine, pushing my buttocks up against him, urging him on. His body stiffened against me and he yelled out, his voice ragged, vibrating off the walls.

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