21. Natalie
21
NATALIE
I t’s been two and a half days. That’s sixty hours since the coatroom incident and exactly zero hours since I last thought about it. Images of it haunt my every waking (and sleeping) minute, and knowing I’ll see him today, my nipples tighten in anticipation.
I wanted to get the upper hand, make him lose control. But seems I’m the one who lost it.
The way he choked me with his belt while fucking my mouth—he literally had me at his feet. Fuck. He didn’t touch me, and that orgasm was still out of this world.
Still, my body feels neglected, aching for his touch, even after the rigorous self-care sessions this weekend. I tried to capture the same feeling with each and every toy I own, but no luck there. My pussy’s begging to be filled by him the way my mouth was.
Heading into work, I’m a nervous mix of panic and excitement. I would prefer to maul him the minute I enter the office, but it isn’t an option. I also how no idea how to act next to someone I need to be professional with but want to be anything but professional.
That’s why I don’t normally do this. The sex isn’t worth the complications. At least it didn’t use to be.
After Friday, I’m thinking this sex could be worth it.
I spot him the second I enter the office. He’s wearing a gray turtleneck that does more to me than I’d care to admit. His glasses are, once again, framing his handsome face, and he sends me a wicked smile from his desk. My hand lifts in an awkward wave. I have no idea where the confident, man-eater Natalie went, but I miss her. This nervous wreck is not my cup of tea.
Silently groaning, I head to my desk. I spend the morning organizing the best way to handle my team’s responsibilities for planning the gala, postponing the meeting until tomorrow. I’m not collected enough to handle leading a meeting with him in it today.
Taking a step back is the best thing for today. No matter what my body wants, I need to manage the situation.
Rina joins me for lunch in the breakroom. Once again, I’m eating a bland salad because I couldn’t be bothered to make something better.
“What’s that?” I ask. Looking at her lunch.
“Chicken pesto wraps.” She swallows a bite of her delicious looking food. “Connor made them for me.”
“Fuck, you’re lucky. I’m sick of my lunches but have no desire to start making them on my own.” In the middle of my sentence, the break room door opens and Anne steps in, Matt on her feet. They’re both laughing, and a pang of something that could only be described as jealousy hits me.
Nope, the only thing I could be jealous of is those tasty looking wraps.
They both head to the fridge. Anne comes to sit with us while Matt heads to the door.
“Why don’t you join us?” Anne asks.
“Uhm, I have work to do, so I think I’ll eat at my desk.”
He leaves and I let out a groan.
“What?” Rina asks, chewing.
“It’s awkward. Isn’t it awkward?” I point to the door where Matt stood a few seconds ago.
“What’s going on?” Anne interjects, opening her homemade salad.
Rina gives me a coy smile, and, in that moment, I know she knows.
“How?” I whisper to her.
“He told Connor.” She shrugs.
“Can someone please clue me in?” Anne asks. Rina points at me.
“Matt and I are kind of friends with benefits, whatever that means.”
As per usual, Anne squeals.
“Don’t get your hopes up.” I stop her. “It’s just sex.”
“Of course it is. But pretty good sex, right?”
“Mind-blowing.” I groan again. The fact annoys me.
“I’m not one to judge, but maybe you guys should lay off the conference room—and the rest of the office, while we’re at it.” Rina’s face contorts in disgust, but I know she’s joking. Anne gasps.
“Maybe you and your husband want to come and watch, I know you like that.” I poke back, and she laughs so hard she almost chokes on her food.
“That’s ok. But point taken.” She winks at me.
Anne, dear, sweet Anne is still in shock with the new information, so I pull my attention back to her.
“It only happened once. While everyone was already gone, of course.”
“But someone could have forgotten something and came back. You could have been caught.”
“That’s what makes it hot,” Rina adds, and I point to her, nodding my head.
“I’m sure you read worse things in your books,” I tell Anne, as she blushes profusely.
“Yeah, but books are one thing, real life is another!”
“Newsflash, almost anything sexual that happens in the books is possible in real life, too.” I shrug.
She blushes even harder. “Maybe not everything,” she murmurs to herself. I want to know more, but this was already a lot for her, so I decide not to push.
“Anyway,” I continue, “this is uncharted territory for me, so this time, I’m asking for your guidance.”
“Well, one rule that is important for friends with benefits is to not fall in love. Though, I did break that specific, very important rule so who am I to say.” Rina shrugs.
“No worries here.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “You know me, and I already told him he can see other people, so he can search for the one while we do our thing. What else?”
“I don’t know, it’s up to you.”
“Not good enough. Anne? What do the books say?”
“Well, rules are definitely important.” Good, I like rules. “Sometimes, friends with benefits won’t go out to dates, but instead have a hook up spot.”
“Like the conference room?” Rina quips, and I smack her shoulder.
“God, no. Please not the office.” Anne turns to me.
“OK, OK, we’ll cross the office off the list. I guess we could meet up at each other’s places. How often can we meet?”
“There’s no real rule for that. I’m guessing it’s however often you want to have sex with each other.”
“Fuck,” I say, and the two of them laugh. Feeling unsatisfied, by my lunch and not knowing when the next time I’ll be able to have sex with him will be, I toss my empty salad package in the trash and head back to my desk.
Me:
Hey.
I hit send, not daring to look up at his desk.
Matt:
Hey.
Guess what I did yesterday?
My mind flashes with dirty thoughts.
Me:
I know what you didn’t do.
Me.
I hear his chuckle from the other side of the room.
Matt:
Yeah, I’m hoping you would remember that.
But no, I made gnocchi.
From scratch.
My stomach grumbles in protest.
Me:
Pfft! I’m sure my mom makes them better.
Matt:
I don’t know. I’d have to try them.
Me:
Or I could try yours and make an objective decision.
Matt:
It can be arranged.
I know he’s talking about the gnocchi—most likely. Probably. But my core still tingles with the dirty innuendo. I don’t care to delve deeper into why a world-class sexter is flushing over a couple of double-entendre texts. Taking a deep breath, I decide to take a risk and double-down on the flirting.
Me:
Really? And when could it be arranged?
Matt:
Oh, I have hockey practice, so I wouldn’t have time to get groceries and make them today, but maybe tomorrow?
Yes! He started rambling, probably nervous. He’s cute when he’s nervous. And I prefer being in the driving seat.
Me:
I’m not talking about the gnocchi.
Though, I would gladly try those, too.
Looking up, I see him glancing around, checking if anyone’s looking at him. Our eyes connect, and I give him a flirty smirk. That’s more like it, Nat!
Matt:
I didn’t want to presume. I have some time before the practice, I guess.
Me:
Deal.
I don’t tell him anything else. He’ll know when it’s time to know. It’s about time I’ve managed to tip the scales and make him as flustered as he makes me.
I’m not my most productive self today but taking in consideration how hot and bothered I am, I’d say I did a pretty good job. Respecting Anne’s pleas, I shoot him another text before I get up and leave the office.
Me:
Follow me.
I’m drunk on power as I sense him hurrying to get his shit together, only to exit twenty seconds after me. My head nods in the direction of his car as I enter mine, and luckily, he gets the message.
The drive to my place is an exercise of patience. I see him following me in my rearview mirror, and anticipation tingles deep inside of me.
We’ve had sex a few times before but never premeditated and never in a bed. These new circumstances could either make for another off the charts experience, or a complete disaster.
Somehow, I’m doubting the latter.
We park next to one another and walk in perfect silence to my building. The silence feels like foreplay. Unspoken, dirty promises linger between us, and my pussy’s already ready to take him in. Begging to take him in.
The elevator ride is the longest one I’ve had. His eyes are wild, but his stance shows he’s unsure of what will happen next.
Don’t worry, Mattie. I’ll show you exactly what’s going to happen.
This is the ‘me’ I’m comfortable with. The one with no shame in her sexuality. The one always in charge of these encounters.
The lock on my door is as loud as alarms while I close the door behind him. Dragging my gaze down his body, I notice I’m not the only one whose nether regions are eagerly expecting what happens next.
My lips pull up into a devilish smirk as my hand glides over the hard bulge. He sucks in a breath, his eyes rolling as he lets out a low moan. I grab him harder before pulling his lips to mine.
His hands waste no time finding their way into my hair as his tongue slips into my mouth. I open for him, and he grabs my hair firmer, sending tiny zings of pain straight to my core. Our tongues fight in a delicious rhythm as my hands travel his muscled chest, down his abs, all the way to his pants. He groans as I unbutton his pants and slip my hand inside of them.
He’s already thick and hard. I glide my hand over his velvet length, slowly caressing him. Pulling my head back, he continues exploring me with his tongue, lowering to my neck. My skin prickles with goosebumps, my nipples begging to be let out and sucked. As if hearing my thoughts, he travels to my collarbone and lowers his hands to grab the bottom of my shirt, lifting it up over my head. The tight sweater slips off, leaving me in a purple lacy bra. He pauses, gazing at me with eyes darker than I’ve ever seen.
It leaves me vulnerable, so I take charge by pulling his shirt and walking backward. I stop when my back hits the kitchen island and pull up his shirt, wanting to even the odds. His naked torso makes my mouth water at all the smooth planes and hard ridges. The pause obviously takes too long, because in a second, he’s unclasping my jeans and sliding them off me. He lets out a hiss when he notices my matching lacy thong. This time, he slides his hands beneath my ass and pulls me up, seating me on the island. His lips go back to kissing my neck while his hands explore my body.
His touch burns my skin as he grabs my waist and travels his finger up my back to the clasp of my bra. The cool air hits my aching nipples, but only for a second before his hot mouth latches onto one of them. A loud moan echoes in the otherwise silent room. His hand grabs my other breast, matching the tempo of his licks with his fingers. He switches sides and the need in my clit gets too painful to take. I grab his hair, lifting his head and smirk.
“You owe me,” I say, guiding his head lower. His growl sends another spark of pleasure as my clit pulses in anticipation.
He works fast, taking off my panties, and before I know it, his mouth sucks on my clit, hard.
“Fuck, yes!” I moan, grabbing his head once again.
His fingers join the action, dipping into my wet heat. My moans mix with his as he eats me out like I’m a buffet spread out on this kitchen island.
“I’m close, fuck,” I moan as I use the hand in his hair to ride his face. Pure need pulses through me, and not even an earthquake could stop me from coming on his tongue. Though, I’m pretty sure this orgasm could cause an earthquake.
It takes exactly one more pinch of my nipple and bite of my clit before I’m groaning out my orgasm. My body shakes, as he slows down his tempo, licking me through it. Climbing down from the high takes me forever and it takes even longer to get my breathing back to normal.
When I finally open my eyes, he’s staring at me with a look that screams devotion.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he says, shaking his head.
“Yeah?” I’m unable to form a better response.
“Here.” He presses his lips to mine, letting me taste myself. The kiss turns passionate, and fire returns to my blood.
“Follow me.” I get down from the counter and head to the bedroom.
“It paid off the last time,” he jokes as he pinches my ass.
I sit down on the bed and get to work on his pants.
“It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything else.” He stops my hand.
“I’ve been dreaming about this cock since Friday. Six dildos tried to replace it but failed spectacularly, so you better not back off now.”
“Fuck, that’s quite the image. You better show me how you did it.” The perverse idea from his mouth makes me ache all over again.
“Next time. Today, you’ll fuck me,” I whisper into his mouth and drop his pants.
This is the first time I’ve seen him completely naked. Anything I imagined in my mind wasn’t giving him justice. His carved out of stone torso, his long, thick cock waiting for me, his strong thighs—every part of him is perfect.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” He groans as I spit on his cock. Nice Guy Matt likes some dirty, dirty things, and I’ll be happy to help him figure it out.
“I need to feel you inside of me.” I pull him by his shoulders, but he turns me around, grabbing the back of my head and lowering my chest toward the bed.
Before I know it, a slapping sound fills the room and a stinging sensation spreads across my left ass cheek. I can’t stop a moan from escaping.
“Fuck, sorry.” He winces. “I just can’t help myself around you. You make me lose control,” he whispers to my back.
“Lose it. I need you losing it with me.” I push my ass out more. He groans when it connects to his throbbing dick.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, Matt.” I turn my head around to look him in the eyes. “I want it.”
He gulps.
“You say stop, I stop, OK?”
“I say stop, you stop,” I repeat.
He lands two more slaps in succession, and my moans turn to desperate whimpers.
He wastes no time before guiding his cock into me. Our moans are almost harmonious, mine higher and his lower as my soaked pussy takes all of him.
“You feel so good,” I coo.
He grabs my shoulders and pulls me back up. My back arches as he positions a hand around my neck. Another whimper escapes me.
He pumps into me from behind, slapping his hips against my ass while applying pressure to my throat. My hands are on his hips, holding on for dear life, and I’m hoping I’ll leave nail marks.
His other hand travels down to my clit, stroking it a few times before bringing it back to my nipple.
Cum soaked fingers circle and pinch my nub as inevitable pleasure builds within me.
“Yes! Yes!” I yell.
“You like it? You like my cock fucking you hard? Fuck, you take it so well. This soaked pussy will make me come so hard.” His dirty words push me closer to the edge.
“You want it harder?” I nod my head eagerly, ready to explode.
Breath escapes me as he groans loudly, tightening the grip on my throat. Every sensation expands tenfold. Every inch of my skin is hot and prickled, and my clit pulses with the need to come. Darkness starts to creep up in my vision and he takes his hand away.
“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop!” I beg, thoughts of tipping the scales long gone.
His hand comes back to my throat, squeezing, adding the perfect amount of pressure. My mind grows fuzzy, but his cock pumps faster inside of me.
Just as the lack of breath becomes painful, he releases my throat. The hit of oxygen triggers my orgasm and I spasm around him, my hoarse voice filling the room.
“Shit, you’re gripping me so good,” he says before groaning out in pleasure. I feel his cock twitch inside of me, filling me with his cum. The moment freezes as we try to catch our breath, our bodies slick with sweat.
He lays a gentle kiss on my shoulder and a shiver runs through me. His cum drips down my thigh as he exits me slowly.
I’m not sure what this was, but sex is an understatement.
A soft hand trails my neck. “Are you ok?” he asks, his voice soothing.
“Pretty good.” My lips turn up and his mouth stretches into a lazy smile.
“The bathroom?” I show him the door to the right.
“Hope it’s okay I use this,” he says, returning with a damp towel.
“Sure,” I reply as he drags the towel over my oversensitive pussy.
Apparently, I hiss, because he says “Sorry” with a boyish smile.
A chuckle escapes me, a sound so unlike my typical laugh. My mind is still blurry and my body weighs a ton. It’s my stomach’s turn to ask for attention, and I realize I’m starving.
“Fuck, I’m hungry.” It’s his turn to chuckle.
“How about we order some takeout?” I continue. He pauses, looking up at me before gazing at his watch.
“I’d love to, but I have to get home and get my stuff for hockey practice.” His shoulders slump.
“Oh, of course.” I get up, putting my clothes, at least the pieces I find, back on. He follows my lead, and in a minute, we’re back in the open concept living room and kitchen, where we started our undressing journey.
“Here.” I hand him the turtleneck.
“Thanks.”
He’s already at the door when he turns around.
“I’m really liking this ‘friends with benefits’ thing.” He winks before leaving, leaving me flustered once again.
I find my phone and order some pizza, hoping to fill at least a part of the emptiness I’m currently feeling.
There are a lot of unknown things in our new arrangement, but one thing I definitely wasn’t expecting was for him to be the one leaving, and me being the one disappointed by it.