"Hurry the fuck up, Ral. Everyone else already went the fuck home."
She's somewhat amused by his urgency to leave the office on Mondays, as well as the expletives he applies to the least imperative of situations. She lifts her golden gaze to his of stone, a light, flirtatious smirk crossing her lips, her eyes thinning slightly in her mock smile as she sits at her somewhat organised, mahogany desk, her copper locks twisted up and pinned with an ivory, faux flower at the back of her head, dressed in a well-fitting, deep grey woman's suit, complete with an A-line, fishtail skirt, which hits just above her knees and would reveal her freckle-spiced skin should she not also adorn her intricate floral, lacy thigh-highs.
"What? Are you buying me dinner?"
Of course he was. She fucking knew he was. An irritated crinkle grows in his thin brow, which only serves to urge her further. He provides her with direct, flat syllables in response whilst she turns her attention to the cream coloured documents in front of her anew.
"Well, it is Monday."
Ah. So it was. She flicks her amber lashes at him once as she reconnects with his pale grey gaze, studying the grooves that have worsened beneath his thick, lower lash line with her teasing, which somewhat further amuses her. She pooches her pink lips slightly in a coy smirk, laying the pen in her hand down at her side and brushing back some wisps of hair at her brow that have escaped her up-do with delicate fingers, almost flirtatiously. She thus closes the manila document folder and stands, sauntering with a melodic sway to her hips to his side before perching herself atop the desk at which she's just been writing, fiddling with the end of his lavish, thin linen, cravat, rubbing its light weave in her manicured fingers.
"Maybe I had something different in mind?"
She bats her eyes at him twice as she holds his gaze before grasping the middle of his neckwear in hand, pulling him forward by it. He quirks a brow, all too pleased and surprised in one that she's alluding at such behaviour. Tch. Fuck Thai food. Deft hands waste no time, moving up to caress her face and unpinning her hair so as to allow the copper cascades to play at her shoulders in a tousled mess. He leans forward to kiss her as she sturdies herself with her hands on the lip of the mahogany and she slips one finger between their lips with a coy smile to stop him, honey orbs narrowing coquettishly, surrounded by warm, addictive copper lashes. His thin brow crinkles over barbed eyes as he hisses through his teeth, his thin jaw line clenching whilst spewing harsh words at her with a scoff.
"Tch. What the fuck is it now? More bloody paper work?"
She smiles teasingly at him from the opposite side of the finger that separates their lips, their warmths and their tastes from one another.
"No. I just thought it might be best to do this somewhere a little more... private."
In all sincerity, he could care less where they did it as long as it was somewhat fucking sanitary. They haven't had this sort of on-the-side fling in weeks.
"Fine, Petra. Where the fuck do you suggest?"
She brings a finger to her chin pensively, a sort of purring, thoughtful sound rising from her throat.
"Hmmmm. I don't know. But, Auruo often comes back after hours to correct and finish his work. I'd prefer he not walk in on us, you know?"
Sharp eyes dart about the room in consideration of her words. He can't think of anywhere in the firm guaranteed to be secure. There was no fucking way they were going to fuck in a public lavatory. Filthy. She notes the determined glint that crosses his gaze as honed, ashen orbs fall on the ornate door of Erwin's office.
"It's locked, Levi."
"Tch. Like I give a fuck."
With this, he scoops her in to his arms, bridal style, which forces a giggle from her pink lips, her still partially-pinned locks bouncing at her shoulders.
"Eager, are we?"
"Why wouldn't I be, Petra?"
Her eyes soften slightly at his demeanour, which she somehow always finds rather charming... He has no issue admitting some of the most socially awkward things. As he reaches the door and brings her back to her feet, another warning escapes her lips.
"Really, Levi. It's locked."
"Tch."
With this, he reaches up to her still half-pinned copper locks, deftly slipping a bobby pin from the woven, amber cascades, which finally forces all of her hair to settle at her shoulders. He thus kneels at the door, one of the legs of his silky, coal pants caressing the ground as he kneels, proficiently uncrinkling the bronze pin to slip it in to the hole of the curved, office door knob. She crosses her arms, staring down at him with almost an expression of mockery painted over her contours, when, after a few seconds of twisting, shifting and jamming, the door pops open. Levi returns his gaze to Petra rather flatly as he stands.
"Like I said, Petra. I don't give a fuck."
A curve builds in her lips anew as he deftly scoops her in to his arms, leading her to the smooth, glossy, oak desk at the centre of this room that's comprised entirely of windows, though conveniently for Levi, the blinds are already drawn. She perches atop it, one leg crossed over the other, prepared to continue the loving game they started just minutes ago with warm, ardent eyes.
He runs his hands up under her suit jacket, eventually wriggling it off of her, feeling her contours through her blouse as she knots her arms around his neck, rubbing her fingers cravingly over the shaved portion of his undercut and filling them with his silky, raven locks at intervals, which forces low groans to erupt from his mouth against her lips, searing with an enslaving sort of heat on contact. The pleasured sounds that pour from him with her touch in conjunction with the way his hands so deftly explore her body, even through silky thigh highs and buttoned blouse, arouses her as well, her face filling with a passionate heat as tender coos break her lips between kisses.
He breathes harshly into her ear before starting a trail of slow, ardent love bites over her porcelain skin, sucking roughly in areas that will surely reveal raised, splotchy, red and purple smudges that will serve to remind her later of this evening. She leans her head back, moaning softly to the ceiling as her copper fringe tosses at her brow, her cheeks enflamed in heat as he reaches the base of her thin, porcelain neck, nipping and sucking along her collar bone. What he does now will surely be difficult to cover tomorrow- though it crosses neither of their minds in the moment. She fills her hands with his silky, black locks, rasping his scalp as she pulls him further against her to usher his work forward.
And it does. Soon enough, his hands make their way over her curves to the fine buttons of her pleated blouse, slowly revealing her to him as she does the same with his stark white, cotton oxford, their lips and tongues playing games over each other's skin as longing moans and coos pour from their throats; pleasured 'Levi's and anticipatory 'Petra's, scrunched brows and clenched jaw lines. She feels a warm dampness rise in her crotch and abdomen, her caramel areolas perking, somehow managing to wriggle his torso free of its cloth confines with his cravat still knotted about his neck, but she couldn't care less, it'll serve as an excellent tether later. He gathers her into his arms, ushering her onto the daybed in the corner, leaving Erwin's desk in shambles.
His fingers; deft and searing—cause her skin to crawl and shiver even though there's a sweat building on her brow that breaks over warm, honey eyes, her hands clenching and contorting in pleasure. He lowers his mouth further down her abdomen, leaving a sporadic map of kisses and nips before arriving at the hem line of her skirt. She lays back against the plush cushioning of the velvety, corner bed, copper locks splaying about her reddened face like the rays of the sun, tender legs spread for him and he tugs and grasps blindly at her flirty, fishtail skirt to work it from her form, fondling her breasts from underneath her lacy bra, noting already how soft and full and pert and round her entirety is in his hands.
As she's now left in just her undergarments, he comes to study her form with sharp eyes; curvy and taught and soft and tantalising as she lies before him, longing for his touch. He hisses out in anticipation, nipping at the tender skin where the black lace of her panties meets in such harsh contrast with her porcelain. The moan that is drawn from her is muffled by the chilling whirr of the A/C unit; but still only serves to drive him further as he flits stone ocean orbs up to her between two thickly lidded lashes, studying what every motion does to her, what every tug of her nipples and nip of her breasts forces her lips to emit. He groans into the damp linen of her panties before nuzzling at her crotch roughly with his nose, nipping teasingly along the contours that protrude through the sopping cotton, where he can already faintly see the perfection that is to come.
He nips along her panty line anew, groaning out against her in sexual anticipation as he reaches beneath her, fondling her ass roughly, scrunching two lids of black lashes over stone ocean orbs in an attempt to control his need. There's an intense burning, longing, pressurised sensation that builds in waves, in little lines from is groin into his lower abdomen; his erection well visible through his silky, black dress pants. To avoid dealing with the complication of her garters, he slips two fingers between the layer of sopping cloth and her tender skin to shift it from his way whilst he works her. Leaning forward, he breathes in the pungently sweet scent of her crotch that causes him to grunt under his breath in anticipation, exhaling heavily through his mouth, licking gently along the tender skin where her thighs meet her torso before turning his attention back to the gap between her legs.
His erection is throbbing and he darts his eyes up to her, already panting in need for her entrance, but knowing all too well she isn't ready yet- wanting to make her truly long for him, craving to see her face paint in crimson, her copper locks matte at her sweaty brow, the glistening sheen of her skin. He slips his tongue between her lower lips as he kneels, rubbing his face roughly in to her crotch as he glides over her clitoris in successions, sending a prickling sensation through every muscle in her body which causes her to ball her hands with his silky locks, forcing him further against her. Each time she begins to rise, her spine lifting, her toes curling, a twitching to her entire form—he stops briefly, in an attempt to keep her from climaxing and oh, for the both of them, it's such a pleasurable form of torture; she'll return the favour later.
He looks up to her as he works his tongue against her, feeling her lower lips moisten further in longing for him as stone grey orbs pierce her tender face from below; domineering, hungry eyes that so toyingly tease. He lowers one of his hands from fondling her ass to doing the same with her thighs, digging harshly in to her skin, likely to leave bruises later. Her noises and reactions and body do so much to him, forcing him periodically to hiss out in sexual need with a wince of his thin brow, his mouth slightly agape. He slips two fingers from one hand up between her lower lips, swirling them in circles at her pink entrance— without actually entering her— as he flicks his tongue roughly over her clitoris in gliding motions. Little strings of his saliva mixed with her lower liquids build and break in a web of pleasure against his tongue with each lick— his face buried in the finely trimmed, golden hair of her crotch as he kneels before her, staring up at her reddened face with hungry eyes.
He craves to see the pleasured, reddened, orgasmic look in her gaze— painted over her face, so he moves to pull back to which she lets out a sort of exasperated gasp, before her voice, so often like honey, turns to ice.
"No. You aren't fucking done."
With this, gripping his raven locks, she forces his face further in to her crotch, trying her damnedest to grind roughly against him and usher him forward anew. And oh, yet again, it does. He nips his inner, lower lip in sexual frustration before slipping his two fingers deftly within her, pressing the top of her inner walls as he glides them in and out, in time with the licks and swirls and sucking motions he places with his tongue over her clitoris. He begins to work her ever quickly, ever thoroughly, as her muscles and contours convulse and shake, moaning his name loudly to the ceiling, cracking over the purring whirr of the A/C, her hands filled with his raven hair, as her golden brow breaks in pleasure over her copper eyes and her cheeks turn ever pink, like wildfire. Her head rolls back further against the velvety cushions, her dishevelled, amber locks tossing about with her jolts and eventually, her legs come to quaver against him and he leads her through her orgasm with slick movements of his fingers against her inner walls, his sore tongue at her swollen bud.
She whimpers and coos for him to stop, calling at him to say she reached her high, she had enough, stop which turns to expletive moans and shouts with the foulest of words he's heard leave those lips; which is truly saying something... all in pleas to get him to cease such movements. And yet, he doesn't; for her hips continue to quaver and rock against him. He rubs his rigid fingers ever fervently within her, feeling the grooves of her inner walls and the room grows hot... and her brow grows damp...as she senses a heat; a searing warmth—and pressure build within her groin, sending further convulsions through her body.
"Le-Leviiii!"
She half-moans, half-screams his name... as her love honey pours out against his tongue, her female ejaculate staining the daybed with its pungently sweet scent.
He pulls back from her slick groin, panting in anticipation for her, his bangs damp with her fluids as he meets her gaze with sharp eyes. She smiles down at him before shifting from the day bed, coming to stand as does he. She kisses gently along his jaw line, breathing in her delicate scent on his lips, which only serves to arouse her more. She thus slithers her fine fingers beneath her panties; long sopping and void of purpose, if other than to give support to her lacy garters, before taking his hands playfully in her own with a coy smirk on her reddened face, guiding his muscular arms to envelope her with them; motioning that he unlatch her bra. First, he scrapes his hands down her back gently, causing shivers to roll over her spine as a satisfying zip resounds in the room, his silky, kohl dress pants gaining the slack to fall to the floor. His hands, normally so apt and deft, fumble and fiddle some with the latch of her bra and she giggles lightly, wrapping her arms lovingly around his neck to give him a better reach.
"Harder to get off than you imagined, hm? Never had to remove one before?"
And just like that, as if her irritable words had given him the ability, the three pronged challenge is finely dropped to the floor and his sharp, grey eyes lower to her breasts, full and round and palely visible with the light from the lamp in the far corner. He lowers his mouth to her tender mounds, caressing and sucking and nipping and biting and taking the full of her into his hands whilst tugging and tweaking her nipples in tandem; which sets her face further ablaze and forces cooing moans from her lips. His erect cock; hot and twitching springs forth as she wriggles his undergarments from his hips to the floor before reaching down and tracing along the tender, fuzzy area at his base.
She meets his gaze rather tauntingly, her lips pooched slightly as she thus takes over this game of kisses and love marks and tongues, starting at his taught neck and laying a sporadic trail of splotches that will serve later to remind him of this evening. Not that he minds. He moans out lowly at intervals, as she travels from his collar bone to his pectorals to his rigid abdomen to his tender hip bones, to the base of his member. Each kiss she lays over his body, each lick and nip, burns and sends shivers over his spine, pleasured purrs and hums from his lips, beads of sweat over his scalp, heavy breaths from his lungs. She lowers herself to her knees, staring up at him with coy, copper eyes as she takes his member in to her hands, running her tongue up his shaft, which causes his breath to hitch with the pleasured, tingling sensation that overcomes him.
"Been a while, hm?"
Her inquiry is truly meant to irk him, as it does; though he's so overwhelmed with each progressive movement she makes on his erection that he has not the capacity to argue. Though it's true, it has been a while.
She proceeds to suck at the base and down to his balls, rolling her tongue along one in her mouth to which he hisses with arousal through his teeth, biting his lower lip as he stares down at her longingly. Her copper gaze in return is domineering, playful, knowledgeable, surrounded by thick, amber lashes and a honey fringe; the warmth of her being, the lustful red of her cheeks and the libidinous glint in her eyes only serves to arouse him further as he feels her run her tongue over every groove and ridge of his swollen member; hot and wet, before arriving back at his head, which twitches with excitement. Just as he teased her so thoroughly, elevated her to the brink only to allow her to fall again and again, she returns the favour now. She licks her lips before sliding them slowly over his cock, feeling the warmth of his pre-cum leak into her. She pulls off, threads of his clear, pre-ejaculate breaking against her tender, pink lips, quirking a brow with thinned eyes and a coy, playful smirk.
"So soon, Levi?"
He hisses out a response with thinned, painfully pleasured eyes, staring down at her rather messy form; his pre-seed staining her lips and tongue, her freckle-spiced porcelain cheeks aglow with lust, her eyes, hungry and longing, her hair dishevelled from the service he just supplied her with.
"F-ffuck, Petra."
She leans forward over his head anew, kissing the erect, reddened head with swollen, pink lips before pumping him; bobbing her head up and down in successive motions over his cock, pausing at intervals to pull off and kiss and lap at the inside of his dip, which sends his thighs shaking.. his lungs begging... his thin brow breaking to the ceiling in a growing sweat of arousal as he balls his hands with her messy, copper locks. She thus takes it in, all the way to the base anew, feeling his warmth fill her mouth in successions. She begins to rock her hips in arousal for him as she kneels on the floor at his feet; she's ready to ride him dry, love honey dripping from her lower lips to the floor; the very thought that she craves him so only pushes him further. She pulls off, looking up at him with a coy glint in her amber eyes, her lips swollen a deep shade of pink, allowing his erect member to raise against his torso as he stands in just his cravat.
"Petoraaa."
He breathes heavily, panting for her, biting his lower lip with a longing narrow to his thin, pale grey orbs as she repeats herself; riding her tongue along all of his ridges, taking his entirety to the base into her mouth, only to pull off suddenly to allow his burning erection to spring back against his toned abdomen—if only to further the sexual tension between them.
"Levi?"
She teasingly responds to his moan of her name with his own in inquisition, her lips placed at the head of his cock, strings of pre-cum swirled with saliva building and breaking with each syllable. He stares down at her longingly, piercing her gaze with such arousal, so engaged by her powerful, toying demeanour, his mouth slightly ajar and brow lightly furrowed at her in sexual frustration. She simply smiles in response to his hiss of her name in pleasured groan, the balling of his hands with her amber locks, and the twitches of his cock. However, when he comes to thrust sharp hips at her, she pulls back, enveloping his erection in her hands, pumping him a little if only to hear that sharp grimace of anticipation break the barricade of his normally so-rigid lips a final time. However, just as before, she stops before he gets too far, making herself to her feet, stark naked if not for the intricate, floral patterns on her lean legs, leaning forward as she tugs on the last piece of clothing that remains on his chiselled contours. She yanks him over to the daybed, coercing him to sit, as he imagines she'll finish working him with her swollen lips. Rather, she touches his chest lightly, walking fingers from his toned abdomen up to his collar bone, at which point she pushes him back against the velvety contours, working his cock in her hands as a further warmth builds in her groin. He gasps out, roughly grasping her lacy thighs as she positions herself to mount him, her panties pushed to the side, his cock in tender grasp at her entrance just to build the sexual anticipation, allowing drips of her wetness to drizzle onto his warm erection.
He bites his lower lip, his trim jaw line and sharp eyes harshly piercing her curvaceous, coquettish contours from his laying position on the daybed as she almost mounts him. He hisses with anticipation, attempting to slide into her entrance with rough thrusts as he can't hold out any longer, digging rugged fingers in to her thighs, which cause little holes to break and tear in her stockings to reveal her ivory skin... and will likely result in bruises later. She moans out with his coarse touch, her brow upturning as she feels her body heat further and he slams her tight walls over him at which point they begin to rock each other in unison; his hot cock twitching and thrusting within her whilst she grinds her hips over his taught contours, feeling a mix of her honey and his pre-cum seep out of her with each motion, dripping down the back of his shaft to his ball sack.
He moans out, rocking her ever slowly on top of him, reaching up to fondle her breasts at intervals; plump and warm and sensitive—as she rakes her nails over the skin of his chest, causing a cinching sensation to spread over his spine and up the back of his shaved neck. She rolls her head back, calling and moaning ever louder to him, her tender mounds and copper locks bouncing with the timed thrusts and grinds they each make. He reaches down, rubbing over her moist clitoris whilst she rides him. This new sensation makes it feel as if he sets her face ablaze, her copper fringe and his silky, black bangs growing damp with the sweat that beads over their entire bodies as they both grow to moan and pant and gasp heavy breaths during their intercourse. She grows ever wild with the way she rides him, truly grinding her crotch in to his groin; the pressure she applies over his swollen member prickling the both of them and they can feel the tight stretch and pull of her pussy on his erection with each thrust; each jointly performed in-and-out motion, the head of his cock lightly caressing her cervix. The room comes to wreak of sweat and sex and its almost as if he can taste the salt of her skin in the air as she comes to lift herself off of and then replace her vagina, sticky with a web of their intimacy, over his member, which forces him to roll his head backwards, roughly filling one hand with her taught, ripped-lace, thigh, the other rubbing fervently over her pleasure bud.
He grits his teeth, his brow breaking as he rolls his head back further, pulling her roughly down on to his member a final time, her name breaking the barricade of his lips in exasperated, pleasured groan, which only adds to her arousal and fluster. Her freckle-spiced cheeks feel like fire as she moans his name to the ceiling, her honey locks and pert breasts bouncing at his physical command, every crevice of her vagina filling with his seed. With his release, the heat sends a pleasant, searing feeling into her groin and up her abdomen, forcing her to clench further over him, her body convulsing as her toes come to curl beneath the crook of his knees. He reaches up, fondling her breasts and sliding her slick, dripping cunt over him, slowly, grinding, several times in succession though he's already completed his cycle; to be certain she's ridden through hers. And oh, it is wonderful: the spreading tingle that rolls over her spine and up her neck and causes her toes and fingers to clench and curl as his name comes to her swollen, tender lips; a heavy, sudden sweat radiating over her like wildfire. As she completes her orgasm the third time, she collapses forward on to him, copper locks splaying about his toned, damp, salty pectorals, their bodies panting, breathing and caressing one another as one; she doesn't bother to dismount him. He comes to brush a hand through her dishevelled, somewhat matted, amber locks, staring down at her reddened form as she looks up into his longing, worn, softened, stone grey orbs, her body rising and falling with the heavy heave of his chest. She reaches up, stroking the side of his sharp jaw line starting at his cheek with light fingers and... smiles coyly, holding his gaze with hers of honey; now soft and sweet with exhaustion. Playful words erupt from her lips.
"Better than Thai food?"
He finds the question almost comical, and would likely scoff had she not just broken him to the core.
"Much fucking better than Thai food."
Levi likes Mondays.