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raised herself up until he almost slid out of her, then back down, slowly at first, then picking up the pace. She kept his hands pinned to the chair behind his head as his hips tried to increase the strength of the thrusts, but atop him, she was in command. She bounced on his lap faster, slamming onto his cock, getting closer and closer, her inner walls clenching him inside her, squeezing her pleasure from him, coming closer to climax as she rode him fervently. She felt him tense up, his fingers clutching at her forearms almost violently, and she was sure he was going to come soon. She rose up off of him, felt him slide out, her hands immediately moving to his cock, now slick with her fluids. Inside she was electrified, sensations rolled through her uninhibited. She felt herself clenching at the emptiness within her; she had come so close to orgasm. She stroked him vigorously, wanting him to come, watching the tip of his penis for the sudden eruption that she expected. He came silently, the same silence they had maintained during the entire session, his face contorted in an expression that could have been pain. Small spurts of semen jetted out, the first burst out almost straight at her face, just missing her, the next squirting onto the floor, one hit his own knee, the rest dribbled onto his pants or dripped down onto her hand. She slowed her hand until he seemed relaxed and then removed it. All she could smell was cum and her own musk. Sara stood slowly and looked down at Andy, his body slumped in the chair, reason returning to him. His expression was a mixture of satisfaction, wonder, shock, and something else she couldnt quite put her finger on. She hoped disappointment didnt show on her face as clearly as contentment showed on his. She had hoped to reach orgasm; she had been close, but didnt quite make it before he exploded. She tingled inside; she wanted it again, yearned for her release, but couldnt bring herself to prolong this already perilous interlude. She grabbed a box of tissue from the shelf and ripped it open, wiping her hands off with a wad she then discarded on the floor. She pulled another wad of tissue from the box and wiped at her inner thighs, then between her legs, her scent heavy in the air as she tossed that tissue on the floor as well. She glanced down at herself, made sure that everything was as clean as she could get it, smoothed her skirt down, adjusted her blazer and moved towards the door. Andy was wiping himself off when Sara pulled the chair away from the door. His head jerked up to see her hand on the doorknob. He zipped himself up as fast as he could, buckling his belt as Sara turned the knob. He bent down to pick up her discarded tissues, wanting no evidence left behind as she opened the


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door. He looked up, afraid someone would be in the hall listening through the door, or waiting for him outside. As she walked out of the storage room, she turned to look back at Andy, his eyes wide, something approaching terror on his face at the prospect of being caught. "Can you get me the actual quantities before the end of the day?" Sara asked. "Yeah, uh... yeah, sure. By the end of the day." Andy was flustered. He had obviously been totally unprepared for the entire episode. "Great! Thanks a lot, Andy. You really came through for me." Sara winked at him, then let the door close behind her before she could see his reaction and headed directly to the ladies room. Back in her office, arousal and guilt warred within Sara and she settled into her chair, leaning back behind the large oaken desk. She stared at the ceiling, head back, arms splayed out to her sides. She had come so close to orgasm, but felt completely unsatisfied. Her reaction to his persistent attempts to have power over her had caught her by surprise; the excitement of controlling the entire encounter was unexpected. She thought about what specifically had made her so excited. Was it that I was in control? No, that wasnt really it, because I wasnt actually in total control. He took me, pulled me down, impaled me on him. That more than anything had excited her. Maybe it was the vision of him submissive to her desires, maybe it was imagining herself in his position. That had excited her. She thought back to how she had originally imagined the episode playing out. She had imagined him coming into the supply room, seeing her leaning against the shelf and moving right up behind her, his hands instantly upon her, exploring, caressing, running over her body. She pictured his hands on her breasts, fingers unbuttoning her jacket, moving up under her shirt, rubbing her hardening nipples though the thin material of her bra. She felt his erection pressing against her from behind, grinding into her, his need so apparent, evidence of his desire urgent. She could feel his hands yanking her skirt up, his entire length driving inside her from behind, larger in her fantasy than in reality. There was no foreplay, no warning, his weight and the force of his thrusts pinning her to the shelf as he took her. As her minds eye wandered, so did her fingers, running up under her skirt, finding nothing to hinder them, her panties still wadded inside her purse. Her fingered played, slowly exploring the most familiar and intimate of terrain, imagining it was a much more aggressive Andy, a more dominating man that would take her and fuck her like she wanted, leaving her no escape, no power to stop him, taking his pleasure within her, using her pussy for his own satisfaction. Her fingers worked fervently; in her mind it was no longer him, but some mystery lover fucking her, harder and faster,