Make It a Good Story

          Oh, believe me. If I had known the type of reaction my text messages were going to invoke, I would have sent them a long time ago. It started this morning with just a little fun.

          I sat still in front of my computer. Hands were hovering over the keyboard just waiting for my commands. I stared into the back of my eyelids. Blank. My ringing phone made me jump.

          "Hello?" I asked. Relief washed over me at the chance to take a break from my work, but I didn't want to let my caller know that.

          "Hey, what are you doing?" Bryant asked.

          "I'm at work, what do you think I'm doing?"

          "I think you're probably sitting at the edge of your chair, staring at your computer pretending to work."

          "Shut up." I laughed. Damn he knew me too well.

          "I'm right, aren't I? So is it any good?"

          "What?"

          "Whatever you're supposed to be working on. It must suck if you're just staring at the computer."

          "It does suck. I don't know how they think I can fix this manuscript. I don't even know where to start."

          "Okay, well, what's bad about it? I mean is it a good story with just bad grammar? Or...?"

          "Ugh, everything. No plot. The characters are flat and one-dimensional. The grammar sucks. Words are misspelled. It's awful."

          "Damn. So then, why is it getting published? Why not just trash it and move on?"

          "Because the author happens to be the daughter of one of our top clients. So the boss is expecting us to give her red carpet treatment."

          "Ha-ha, then maybe the boss needs to be the one to read and edit the manuscript?"

          I chuckled at the thought. "Nah. He refused. I'm pretty sure he knows how bad it is."

          "Ooh. Well, I'm glad I'm not you, then. I'll let you get back to work."

          "Okay, thanks," I said. I hung up the phone and sighed. I didn't want to return to staring at this awful story.

          "I was hot. He was hot. My boobs were big. My nipples were hard. My kitty was wet." I read out loud and shuttered. Seriously? Who in their right mind would call it a kitty and expect to be treated seriously?

          I highlighted the word kitty and tapped at the keyboard. P. U. S. S. Y. "Well, it's a start," I whispered as I leaned back in my seat. One word fixed, far too many left to go.

          My smartphone chirped with a new text message.

          "What are you wearing?" I read his text over and over again.

          Bryant has always been much more adventurous than I am. To him, sending a naked picture was just fun and games. But to me, it was a big deal. I've never been as playful as he was. But sometimes I wished I were. So today, as I read that text, I decided it couldn't hurt to start.

          It had to be more fun than staring at this awful manuscript.

          I unbuttoned a couple buttons on my blouse and held my smartphone up high over my head. Then I made sure to straighten out my back to boost my breasts as much as I could. Picture one.

          Then I pulled my skirt a little higher over my waist, positioning the smartphone down near my knees. My legs were open just enough for you to be able to see the lace elastics of my stockings wrapped around my thighs and maybe a hint of my panties. Picture number two.

          I sent the pictures out to him in a text message, straightened myself out, and returned to work. After all, this manuscript wasn't going to get any better by just sitting there. And now at least I had a little inspiration in my corner. I could definitely use this text message to insert some life into this story.

          Several minutes later, my smartphone lit up. I glanced around the room and unlocked the phone. It was a photo of Bryant standing in front of the mirror with his free hand down the front of his pants.

          "Ha! You are not!" I texted him back.

          "You don't think so?" His text arrived with two more pictures: One showing the bulge in his pants and the other showing the tip of his swollen cock poking out of his unzipped pants. He really was hard.

          The idea that he was that turned on just by the couple pictures I sent him was invigorating. Exciting. I could feel my core heating up as I imagined the sounds he must be moaning.

          I checked around my office again, making sure the blinds were down. And trying to make sure none of the office staff out in the other room were staring at me. Once I was assured of my privacy, I unbuttoned more buttons on my blouse. Enough to reveal my hard nipple was poking through its lace cup of my bra. I cupped my breast in my hand, caressing my nipple and taking a new picture to send.

          Giggling with excitement, I sent the new picture and straightened out my clothes once again. He didn't need to know that I wasn't staying exposed between pictures. I returned to work, wondering what his reaction would be to that text.

          A few minutes passed, and I received the next text in our dirty game of photo tag. His pants tangled up on the floor around his feet while his hand wrapped around his cock.

          Oh God. I could feel my juices dripping.

          I bit my lip and debated about what to send next. Should I just end the game now? No harm no foul? Or should I keep it going? He couldn't get too mad at me for ending the game. He knew how shy I was. I could just send a text saying "ha-ha, just kidding" and that would be the end of it.

          Or....

          I leaned back in my chair and propped my foot up on my desk, ensuring a good shot of my soaked panties. Then I took a deep breath and dipped my fingers into my panties. Just enough to feel how wet I was. And to get a good picture.

          I giggled again and shook my head as I sent the picture. Once the picture sent, I readjusted and tried to calm myself down. That will have to be the end of it I told myself. No matter what he sends me next, no more.

          I went back to work and waited.

          And waited.

          Several minutes passed and nothing.

          I checked my phone again. Still nothing.

          I grabbed the office phone and called my smartphone. It rang.

          It worked.

          But still nothing.

          I checked my text messages. No error message. And the timeline showed that it had been delivered and read.

          Nearly 45 minutes went by and still no reply.

          Oh God, I thought. He's mad at me. Or embarrassed.

          I was getting ready to send an apology text for taking things too far when the door to my office flew open.

          "Mrs. Daynes, I'm sorry. I tried to stop him."

          "It's fine, Justin," I replied to the lanky assistant.

          Justin nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him. Bryant walked over to my desk as I stood up. He cupped my face in his hands without a word and pressed his lips against mine. I pushed my tongue past his lips. Grazing against his tongue and inviting it to follow back into my hot mouth. Moaning when it did. His tongue played with mine inside my moist mouth.

          Bryant flicked open the buttons on my blouse easily. Practiced. His large, warm hand caressed my breast. Igniting a fire along my every nerve as he squeezed and rolled my sensitive nipples between his fingers.

          I threw my head back as his lips sucked the flesh along my neck. He finally sucked my other breast into his mouth. Moaning as his tongue pulled my nipple against the roof of his mouth. I tangled my fingers in his black curls as he suckled and fondled my breasts.

          His moans grew louder.

          My needs grew deeper.

          I lifted my leg and wrapped it around him. Grinding my hips against him in a silent beg for his attention.

          I was dripping. I was aching.

          Bryant responded by gliding his hand down my curves and lifting my skirt. He played with the top edges of my stocking. Driving me insane. Each tickle shot new lightning straight to my core, releasing a new moan.

          "Oh God, you're wet," he whispered as his fingers found my soaked panties.

          All I could do in reply was to moan.

          His fingers danced and swirled along my panties, soaking them with more of my juices. I rocked my hips against his fingers. Pushing my breast further against his tongue as shivers traveled along every nerve ending.

          He slid my panties to the side. His hot fingers gliding over my opening. Teasing. My moans were beginning to sound more like whimpers. Bryant smirked. Knowing full well what he was doing. "What do you want?" he whispered. "Huh?"

          I couldn't answer. I could barely breathe. His lips grazed against mine. His hot breath making my hairs stand at attention.

          Finally, he plunged his fingers deep into my core. He groaned as I threw my head back, reveling in my reaction to his touch. He pulled his fingers out slowly.

          In again. He twisted his wrist around. I arched my back and dug my fingernails into his broad shoulders. His fingers danced inside me as I thrust against them.

          Out. My stomach clenched as the heat of my orgasm started to build inside. He knew I was close. He chuckled and plunged his fingers back in.

          Out.

          In.

          "Oh God," I whispered.

          Out.

          Without warning, he twirled me around in front of him. I bent over my desk, and he lifted my skirt higher, admiring me from behind. He gripped my hips with one hand as he unzipped his pants with his other. The heat emanating from his cock warmed my skin even before it touched me.

          He grabbed his cock, rubbing its edge slowly up and down my opening. Pausing at my clit as his hips swayed gently behind me. My pussy trembled, waiting for his next move. He leaned over me, his lips grazing my ear as his hard manhood grazed the lips of my pussy.

          "Is this what you want?" he whispered. "Tell me. Is this what you want? You want me to take you right here?"

          I hated talking dirty. But listening to him talk, got my juices flowing even more. My hips rocked beyond my control. Grinding against him as his cock teased me.

          "Say it," he repeated. "Say this is what you want."

          "Mm," I whispered. "Yes."

          He smiled and lined the tip of his cock up with my opening and plunged deep in.

          Filled at last.

          He pressed himself deeper, moaning into my ear as he pulled my hips back against him. His entire cock sank into me. Slowly. Inexorably. When he stopped pushing, he waited for my walls to adjust and accommodate. I moaned and rocked my hips against him.

          Then he pulled his swollen cock back out, leaving only the tip inside. He paused, breathing heavily and staring at my back. He plunged back in again. All the way in.

          Harder.

          Faster.

          His hand slid around my hips and found my throbbing clit. Swirling and dancing around my clit as he pounded his cock into me. I held onto the edges of my desk for support as he filled me again and again.

          And again.

          My body shivered and quaked beneath him, unleashing ripples of nerves that seemed to suck the thrust out of my hips. I pushed back against him, taking his cock deeper into me as I crumbled under the power of my orgasm. I bit my tongue to keep from screaming out his name. One orgasm blended into another. He continued to ride each one.

          His cock stiffened, and his grip on my hips tightened. He shoved his cock deep into me and held it there. Long and hard as he released his seed. When I could finally bring my body back under my control, he smiled and pulled himself back out of me. I melted to the floor and watched as he pulled his pants back and fastened his belt.

          "You okay?" he asked.

          "Oh yea," I said as I slid my panties back into place and buttoned my blouse. "But what brought that on?"

          "Are you kidding?" he asked.

          I shook my head and rolled my neck, massaging my shoulders while he sat down in the other chair. I reclaimed my own seat and gazed at Bryant. "I mean it couldn't have just been the pictures. Could it?"

          "I just wanted to give you some inspiration. Really help you get your work up to the next level. Make it a good story."

          I smiled and pointed to the door. "Mission accomplished. So now, I've got to get this finished because I am on deadline. So...."

          "Hate to fuck and run?"

          "Something like that, yea."

          "Okay. Will I see you tonight?"

          I smirked and cocked my head to the side. "Maybe. Let's see how long it takes me to get this all settled and done."

          Hours later, I saved the manuscript and sent it to the printer for its final review with the boss.  Up in his office, I watched the clock while he filtered through the pages.

          "I don't think so."

          "You don't think what?"

          "This just doesn't seem real. I don't think this is very believable."

          "Which part?"

          "Right here. Page 13."

          I grabbed the paper and skimmed over it. Then I circled to the back of his chair and bent over, pressing my cheek right behind his ear.

          "But I don't think you really want me to stop," I whispered the words from the story. My breath made his nerves stand at attention. I watched waves of goosebumps travel down his arms as he squirmed in his seat.

          His pants tightened.

          I slid my hands around his broad shoulders and down his chest and let out a deep sigh.

          His breathing quickened. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists, fighting his every urge. "Okay, I get your point," he whispered.

          I reached down between his legs and applied gentle pressure to the growing manhood in his pants. "I'm not sure you do." I was amazed at how well his conversation fit in with the story. Nearly anything he said I could reply with the dialogue from that manuscript.

          "No, I do. But I'm not sure this is appropriate. I really do think you need to stop now."

          "What if I told you I didn't want to stop?" I lifted my leg over his lap and sat down facing him, pressing down with my hips as I rocked my core against his throbbing cock.

          "Oh God," he closed his blue eyes and moaned. "Seriously, Monica. I can't tell if you're kidding or not."

          I smiled and stood up again. "Don't worry. I am just kidding. And proving a point. The dialogue might not be a deep sonnet. But it is believable enough to get the point across. It's better than what was there, in the very least. I'm sure the author will be happy with it."

          He smirked and filtered back through the pages. "All right. Fine." Let's get it boxed and ready to send for her approval." He stood up and grabbed his briefcase and started shutting down his computer.

          "You ready to go home?"

          "Yea I just need to lock up my office and grab a few things."

          "All right, I'll see you there," he leaned over and kissed me. "And, uh, maybe we can continue our...conversation? Once we get there?"

          His kisses always melted me. Leaving me weak in the knees and wanting more. Still, though, I can't help but wonder how Mr. Daynes would react if he ever found out about Bryant?

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