Secretaries Perverted Secrets

Roccosiffredi

Eveline Dellai, Lucette Nice, Rocco Siffredi Pic(s)

The late afternoon sun slanted through the blinds, striping the polished mahogany desk in bars of molten gold, each one illuminating a separate particle of dust dancing in the still, warm air. Her pen, a forgotten silver trument, lay beside a stack of unsigned documents, its cold metal a stark contrast to the heat radiating from her skin. His fingers, which moments before had been tracing the crisp edge of a manila folder, now found the delicate ridge of her spine through the thin silk of her blouse, a slow, deliberate exploration that made her breath catch. A soft, involuntary sigh escaped her lips as his palm flattened agat the small of her back, pressing her forward until the hard edge of the desk met her thighs. The scent of his cologne, a dark mix of sandalwood and spice, mingled with the faint, floral whisper of her perfume, creating an intoxicating cloud that enveloped them both. She could feel the steady, powerful thrum of his heart agat her shoulder blade, a rhythm that seemed to sync with the frantic pulse now beating in her own throat. His other hand moved to her hip, his thumb stroking a slow, hypnotic circle on the sensitive skin just above the waistband of her skirt, a promise of things to come. The world outside the office door, with its ringing phones and muffled conversations, faded into an indistinct hum, a distant reality that held no power within this sanctum of shared desire. Every nerve ending was alight, hyper-aware of the weight of his gaze and the possessive pressure of his hands, as the professional facade they had maintained all day crumbled into exquisite ruin.