In Which Late Night Affairs Lead to Displaced Office Supplies
Denise grunted as she pulled the stapler from its place lodged firmly between her back and Alan Shore's desk. Before she had time to place it elsewhere, Tara's hands seized her hips again and her lips found Denise's, causing the blonde to gasp and whimper and drop the stapler onto the floor. Tara's fingers quickly found the buttons of Denise's thin silk blouse, rapidly working to unbutton it as she moved one knee up between the blonde's legs. When she reached the last button, she broke contact just long enough to rip the article of clothing off and toss it aside, then resumed the task of kissing Denise thoroughly.
Denise closed her eyes and threaded her fingers in Tara's long, voluminous tresses. She had long since forgotten whose office they had stumbled into, and she was long past the point of caring if what they were doing was wrong. All she cared about at the moment was the feeling of Tara's hands on her body, the sensation of warmth coursing through her veins, the pounding of her pulse at the apex of her thighs. And the feeling of Tara's warm tongue tracing across her lower lip was enough to make her weak in the knees.
Tara didn't bother to waste time with clothing. She was stripped practically naked within seconds of removing Denise's blouse and skirt. Remarkably, her hands seemed to never leave Denise's body, wandering incessantly, her talented fingers dancing over the blonde's heated skin. In spite of the warmth that had settled upon her, Denise's skin prickled with goosebumps as Tara's mouth moved lower, down her neck and chest, across the exposed flesh of her small breasts.
Denise's hands tangled deeper in Tara's hair and she let her head loll back as the brunette's tongue jutted out to taste the salty-sweet sweat that beaded in the valley between her breasts. Tara's leg was still positioned between her own, gently moving against her inner thighs, creating a sensation that made it difficult for Denise to breathe, let alone focus on what she needed to be doing. She forced her hands to move again and gripped Tara's bare back, digging her nails into the firm muscles she found there. Tara sucked in a sharp breath, but her lips never broke contact. The brunette's mouth closed around Denise's nipple, teeth tugging gently before allowing her tongue to soothe over the pain.
Denise flexed her fingers against Tara's back, reveling in the feel of those taught muscles under her fingers. She moved her hands down, then back up again, testing, needing to know if all of Tara was as smooth and soft as she had imagined. Again, her hands glided down Tara's back, and she sighed as Tara's tongue circled around her other nipple. Denise's heart pounded in her chest, her pulse throbbed between her legs. Her skin felt like it was on fire… in a good way.
Tara moved her own hand down between them, splayed her fingers flat against Denise's stomach as she leaned up to kiss the blonde fiercely. Before Denise had time to realize what was happening, Tara thrust two fingers into her, causing the blonde's hips to buck and her eyes to shoot open in surprise. Tara's face was a scant distance from her own, their lips nearly touching, the look in Tara's eyes utterly predatory as she thrust her fingers into Denise again. The blonde let a low moan flow past her parted lips as she tossed her head back again and gripped Tara's hair in her fists, driving the other woman's lips to her chest.
Tara wasn't gentle in any way. She drove her fingers into Denise with such force that it nearly knocked the wind out of the blonde, but Denise held on tight, her fingernails digging into the skin of Tara's back. She knew it had to be causing the brunette some sort of pain, but the other woman didn't show it. She was too busy sucking at the hammering pulse point of Denise's throat as her fingers delved deep into Denise yet again. The blonde gripped the edge of the desk tight enough to turn her knuckles white and moaned deep in her throat, a low, guttural sound that rattled in her chest and sounded foreign even to her own ears.
Tara let out a little chuckle against Denise's throat and thrust her fingers once more, this time applying pressure with the pad of her thumb. Denise's scream erupted abruptly and echoed in the empty room. Tara kissed her to silence her, but it was too late. The damage was already done. Fingers nestled snug inside Denise, Tara stilled completely and turned her eyes toward the closed doors of Alan's office, waiting to see if anyone had heard Denise scream. After a few moments had passed and no one came running into the office, Tara turned her attention back to Denise, who was still clinging to her for dear life. The brunette slowly slipped her fingers from the warm wetness at the apex of Denise's thighs and trailed her fingers up the blonde's stomach, once again leaving behind a trail of goosebumps on Denise's skin.
Denise slowly opened her eyes, afraid that she would find herself alone in bed again, but Tara was still there, staring down at her with light chocolate eyes. The look on her face had softened from predatory to just plain beautiful and Denise had to blink a few times to focus. Tara leaned forward and placed a kiss to Denise's sweat-soaked forehead while her fingers worked soothing circles around her left breast. Gradually, Denise loosed her grip on Tara's back, allowing her arms to drop unceremoniously to her sides. Her entire body wrought with pleasure, she could barely hold herself upright, and was thankful for the fact that the brunette was supporting her with her other hand on the middle of her back.
"You're flushed," Tara murmured against Denise's skin.
Denise wanted to snort sarcastically, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. As her breathing finally began to return to normal, her thoughts centered around one thing alone. Slowly, deliberately, she brought a trembling hand up and brushed the tousled hair back from Tara's exquisite face. She moved the pad of her thumb across the brunette's lower lip, then leaned forward until her lips just touched Tara's in a soft kiss. She was in no hurry. There was no need to rush.
"Alan's going to murder us both if he finds his desk like this in the morning," Tara said, eyeing the mounds of scattered papers and displaced office supplies, as Denise kissed a trail across her collarbone.
"The couch then?" Denise asked absentmindedly. Her fingers were already slipping past the waistband of Tara's black panties.
Tara nodded, then groaned in protest as Denise removed her hands completely. The blonde pushed herself upright on shaking legs and brushed past Tara, sauntered over to the couch on the opposite side of the room. Tara followed close behind her and wrapped her arms tight around Denise from behind before the blonde could even sit down. The blonde let out a heavy sigh at the feeling of Tara's breasts pressed firmly against her back. The turned in the brunette's strong arms and leaned up to kiss her passionately. And as they stumbled back onto the couch, Denise couldn't help thinking that Alan would just have to get over the mess in his office in the morning…