So here we are again, me introducing a one-shot while my MC languishes due to the writer's block.

This is decidedly MATURE, NOT for under agers, and probably not for anyone turned off by less traditional forms of sex play. You have been warned.

Please read and review.

The phone hadn't rung in exactly 47 minutes.
She knew because this is what her day had become: waiting for the phone to ring, transferring the call, then going back to appearing busy with the paperwork that would take all of ten minutes but that she managed to stretch out for hours at a time. The job was brutal in that she got yelled at for various things she did wrong when she didn't even know in the first place what right was. Also, working with two other women and their various character quirks was never a picnic. She tried to keep her head down, her mouth shut, and do her work so that one day she could move on to bigger and better things.
Her cell phone vibrated twice, signaling a text had been received. She got glares whenever her phone went off but didn't understand why; everyone else had their cell phones blowing up all day and took personal calls whereas she only sent texts and had it on vibrate. The politics of the small office were strange indeed.
What r u doin?
She smiled. The texter was someone she had grown dependent upon to pull her out of the workplace boredom.
Working. U? It was mere seconds before the phone vibrated again.
Nothing much. Was thinking of lunch. U game?
Her smiled became even more pronounced. This could be interesting.
Maybe. When? Where?
"Could you scan this, send it to me, then file it where it goes?"
"Sure," even though you have the ability to scan it and save it on your computer and the file is in the room you had to walk past to get to me and you know that, you're just making up shit for me to do.
I'm 5 minutes from your building. Usual place?
Abso-fucking-lutely.
After informing the office she was going to the bathroom, she went out the door and into the one down the hall marked, Powder Room. It used to be a lawyer's office until the rents went up and his business went down. Now it was a small room without windows that had an old and suspect looking couch pushed against one wall and a door that locked. Nursing women in the building used it as a private place to pump and sometimes during April the newest associates at the accounting firm down the hall used it as a place to sleep. It mostly was a place for the industrious (or insane, you be the judge) to change before going jogging after work. She turned, locked the door behind her and waited.
Knock, knock.
"Who's there?"
"Orange."
"Orange who?" she said, as she unlocked the door and opened it enough to let the person on the other side in.
"Orange you glad I'm here?" he asked, smiling slightly at his horrible joke.
"You have no idea," she answered, shutting the door, locking it and pushing him against it.
"What? No chit chat? No banter?" He asked, smile turning to a smirk as he noticed how desperate she was.
"You want chit chat you go for coffee," she made a show of looking around the empty room, "I don't see any coffee here."
"Well, business it is then," he said, grabbing her and tugging on the tie of the wrap dress she was wearing. It parted, hanging off her shoulders, to reveal a rather unique situation.
"A bra and no undies?" he asked, again smirking at this woman's contradictions.
"I started the day with a lovely light yellow thong—it got caught on the stupid drawer pull on my desk and ripped."
"You should invest in sturdier clothing."
"You should shut your damn mouth or do something constructive with it," she replied, fists on hips, a dangerous expression on her face.
He knew her enough to know when to keep pushing and when to leave well enough alone, so he did what he knew would take the scowl off her face.
"Oh fuck! Warn a girl won't you?" she sighed as his tongue licked the freshly waxed skin of her pussy.
"Damned if do, damned if I don't," he muttered, not really that upset with her sniping, as he pushed a finger, then two, inside, and spread her open with his thumb. She was already wet; he adored that she could get herself ready for fucking with just her mind, thinking dirty thoughts. Too bad not every woman was like that.
She grabbed onto the doorframe as his tongue circled her clit then pressed on it with enough pressure to make her eyes roll back. While this wasn't really one of her favorites on the menu, sometimes the activity just hit the spot, both literally and figuratively.
He knew they didn't have long, so he raised up, without removing his hand from between her legs, and escorted her over to the couch; she frantically undid buttons and tugged on zippers during their journey. She was left wearing black four inch stilettos and a silver bra with a slight snakeskin print on the satin while his jeans and boxers were pooled around his ankles and his t-shirt on the floor.
She stopped short before he could get her on the couch, "I'm not sitting on that filthy thing."
"Looks clean to me—you're telling me you've been in here with one of those Dateline lights that show all the stains?"
"I'm telling you that if we're doing this here, who knows who else has decided this is the perfect 'lunch' spot."
"I don't care."
"I do!" she said, turning her back to him and making to cross the room and get dressed.
"Fine," he said, sitting down and bringing her with him as if she would be sitting on his lap, but instead her wet pussy was impaled on his dick.
She moaned in pleasure and his hands snaked around to fondle her clit.
"Need warning that time?" he whispered in her ear, licking the sensitive spot behind it, making her shiver and his dick get harder.
She started the rhythm, grinding on his cock and into his hand, panting in reaction to the sensations and exertion. His position allowed him to quickly remove the bra and while one hand continued to work with her between her legs, the other pinched already hardened nipples. He vaguely wished there was a mirror somewhere in the room, as he knew her tits were bouncing enticingly, but wasn't dissatisfied enough to change the position—the way she was sitting made her pussy oh, so tight.
The small noises she was making weren't her usual cum noises, but she better hurry the fuck up because he didn't want to wait forever.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I'm pissed off and I can't quite get there—which makes me even more pissed off!"
He had an idea of what she might like, but this certainly wasn't something one sprang on a person.
"Want me to try something?" he asked.
"What?"
"Something that will help you cum. You trust me?" he questioned, knowing damn well the answer if she was willing to be here in a "Powder Room" down the hall from her office bouncing away on his dick.
"Yeah. What do I need to do?"
"Lean over a bit," he said, and when she complied he used some of the wetness making her pussy heaven for his dick, coated a finger with it, and eased it in her ass.
"Wha—oh fuck! OH FUCK!" she said, at first rather surprised by his actions then more surprised at how fast and hard she came.
With her pussy squeezing tight around his dick and knowing her ass was even tighter, he came hard too, mentally giving thanks that her job sucked so bad and that she was the type of girl to cum with a finger in her ass.