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Having sex – especially good sex, is distracting and dangerous. Because you’ll be at work, a place that relies on your “attention to detail” and you start to think. HARD. About the silhouette of him undressing, and the anticipation of feeling his body against yours. You think about him getting into bed, climbing on top of you, and making you feel so warm and safe.

You remember how he kisses, and begin to wonder how someone so manly could be so gentle and soft. You remember how his sensuality caught you off guard. Especially when he put his hand on the small of your back, and pressed down as if activating a button you never knew you had. You remember his hands gliding across your body – slowly. While kissing you – slowly. 

The phone is ringing, but all you can think of is him reaching over to his end table and you knowing what’s going to happen next. You think of how you had to hold your breath momentarily as he let himself inside of you for the first time. You think of how tight it was, and how you wished you could freeze the feeling of that moment in a “Break in case of emergency” glass case.

People are filing into the office now, but all you see is his dick sliding in and out of you (I love watching). You smell his masculinity. You taste his neck. You hear his heavy breathing. You run your fingers down his chest. He picks you up effortlessly, and in a single swoop you’re now on top of him while he’s laying on his back.

Then, all of a sudden you wonder if you’re the only one that thinks the temperature is too high in the building. Because you think about how hot it is that he knows exactly what to do, and when to do it. You think of how he’s the first person to ever make you cum in that position. And now all you can think of is finding a conference room you can go hide out and masturbate in.

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