Yearning for Love

Alexis Lauren

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Alexis Lauren

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I sit at my desk in my living room trying to think. My head is pounding like the heavy drum beat in a
Rammstein
song, and my thoughts keep chasing each other like angry cats. Oh, God, what am I going to do? I can’t work with Nate Drummond and maintain my sanity, let alone keep my damn dignity. Yet, I don’t want to disappoint him, either!

Here’s a description of a day working with that dynamic hunk: I can be sitting at my desk, working on spreadsheets, emails, letters, anything. Then Nate walks in and –
whoosh
– all the oxygen is sucked out of the room. I swear, he can hear how my breathing changes! And it’s embarrassing! I have to protect myself from my feelings, therefore, the only realistic option is for me to resign. It’s either that, or make a freakin’ fool outta myself, and, girlfriend, that is never on my agenda! It appears I’ve made my decision.  All I have to do is write my letter of resignation.

It’s not as easy as you’d think. Oh, it’s not the money. I’ve saved a substantial bit from each paycheck, so I can live off that while I look for another job somewhere else, preferably with someone who doesn’t have the attractiveness factor going. Yeah, that sounds like a dream: Walk in, get started working, look up to see an ugly dude, and say, “Good morning, Mr. Ugly Dude.” Then look back down, get to work, no distractions.”

Two hours later, I finish writing and signing my resignation letter. I stuff it into an envelope for Nate, which I’ll hand to him tomorrow. I’m about to melt into a puddle on the carpet right here, I’m so damned exhausted. I look outside and notice someone’s Christmas tree lights blinking through a sheer curtain. I hate Christmas! I hate the smarmy caroling, the displays that go up before Halloween, and all the insane rushing around. The only shopping I do is for food. I won’t buy gifts, and I don’t send cards out. I just do my best to ignore this holiday, and wait for the second of January to dawn, bright and cold. Time to wash off this creepy Christmas chill I’ve developed.

After my shower, I put on a warm pair of pajamas, and get into bed with my eyes drooping heavily. Maybe tonight I’ll actually sleep, and not toss . . .
I’m sitting in my office when Nate walks in. Something’s different. This time, instead of gathering papers from my desk and going straight into his office, he places his computer bag onto the low table in front of my desk, and then circles around to my side. He extends one hand to me, and I notice his eyes are burning with . . .passion? desire? My hand goes out to his automatically, and he pulls me against him. He wraps his arms around me, enveloping me in warmth and . . . yes, definitely passion.

His lips close over mine, and I taste electricity on his tongue – he wants me, and he wants me badly. I kiss him right back, as my tongue swirls in a dance with his. I moan, as I feel my insides melting like candle wax. My nipples bud against his chest, and I feel his shaft pressing and flexing against me. My arms are tight around him, partly to hold him closer, and partly to keep him from leaving. I look at the door, wondering who might walk in and see us.

“It’s locked, Corey. Don’t worry.” Nate’s voice is so gravelly and low! Did I do this to him? As he moves his hips against me, I realize I have. My own hips begin moving of their own volition, and soon, we’re moving in concert with each other. Nate begins backing up toward the love seat against the far wall. Kissing me, he sits down, pulling me onto his lap.

I look down and see . . . a sight that makes me swallow convulsively to moisten my dry throat. He is huge beneath his slacks. My hand reaches out, and I stroke it with my fingertips, causing Nate to groan.

“Don’t! Not unless you want this to end before it even begins,” he rasps. I look at his face, amazed. His eyes are screwed shut, and he’s wearing a very strained expression –
 
as if he were in pain. He grabs me again, this time beginning to unbutton my scarlet blouse. Soon, I am exposed to his hot gaze. His eyes flick over my lacy bra. I feel his gaze like a touch, and my nipples grow even harder. He watches them thrust at the lace, and he groans again. His hot hands push my blouse off my shoulders, and he places his palms over my breasts.

Now, I groan. The sensation of warmth and rough male hands is making me light-headed, and I slide further down the back of the love seat. My hands reach for Nate’s tie, which he has already loosened. With an urgent tug I pull it off, and toss it to the carpet. My fingers make quick work of the buttons of Nate’s dress shirt, and we both work to remove it from his broad shoulders. When the shirt is gone, I see a myriad of muscles.

Nate’s hands move to the waistband of my slacks. He undoes the button and slides the zipper down. I raise my hips slightly, as he pulls my pants and panties down, exposing my moist center to his hot, greedy gaze. He touches my engorged clit, and my hips undulate at the hot sparks that zing through my nerve center. I kick my high-heeled pumps off so he can push my pants off completely. Before he returns to my clit and begins playing with it, he grabs the remote control for the small stereo in my office and increases the volume of the CD that’s playing. After he drops the remote, he returns to playing with my pearl and eliciting feelings I never knew existed. My legs fall apart and my eyes close as desire takes control. My hips move sensually back and forth, trying to relieve the pressure building inside me. Too soon, I feel the heat building to a level I can’t contain, and my body shatters, flying apart in a million shimmering pieces as I come, just from the skill of Nate’s fingers. Aware of the Drummond Oil employees working beyond our office suite, I mute my cries behind my fist.

Nate is breathing quickly now, completely aroused. He stands quickly, shucks his shoes, socks, pants and boxer briefs. Before he drops his pants to the floor, he pulls a condom out of his wallet, opens the small foil packet and asks me to roll the condom onto his engorged, heavy and twitching shaft. By the time I finish, his shaft has reddened even more, growing impossibly bigger. He’s so erect, it’s pulsing against his stomach. I swallow, wondering how that will fit inside me.

“Nate . . . I’ve never . . . .” I whisper. I follow his gaze as he measures every part of my body –
 
my shoulders, rounded medium breasts and flat tummy. He looks down at my neatly groomed pussy, damp and excited.

“You’re a virgin, Corey? Are you sure about this, then?” he asks.

I laugh through a tight throat. “Nate, after what you just gave me, I am more than ready to make love with you!”

When he hears this, he kneels next to me on the soft, thick carpet and kisses me, allowing his hands to roam all over my body, from my buttocks and breasts, to my waist and back to my pussy. He pushes me back gently,and slowly inserts two fingers into my pussy. With every stroke, he goes deeper and deeper into my body, testing my hymen. He pushes the tips of his fingers gently against it, pressing slowly farther and farther into me. As I feel a slight pinch and tearing, my eyes close and I hold my breath. Once Nate’s fingers have broken my membrane, he slides a third finger inside me and begins moving inside me again. Soon, my body has forgotten the pain, and I am moaning softly as his fingers and thumb work their magic on my pussy and clit. Again, I come, clamping hard around Nate’s fingers. I hear him groan at the sensation of motion and tightness, then I feel him shifting and covering me. His lips cover mine, as he positions himself in between my open legs. Slowly and carefully he slides himself inside, pressing and withdrawing until he is completely past my membrane. All I feel is fullness, throbbing and heat, as he presses further and further into me. I moan loudly into his shoulder, not wanting anyone outside my office to hear anything, and Nate pauses.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No. It feels . . . so . . . good! Keep moving!” I raise my hips to urge him on, and he begins to grind slowly and carefully inside me. The strange sensation of his shaft moving up and down my pussy and making contact with every inch of it is  – oh, my God, so hot! My hips are moving with a need to relieve the wanting and pressure that’s building inside me again.

Soon, I hear Nate’s breathing change, becoming harsh and strained. His body trembles as he tries to hold back his own orgasm. He groans softly into my ear.

“Corey, sweetheart, I’m . . . oh, God!” His back flexes, pushing him fully inside me as he comes. I feel his cock flexing as he releases his semen. The sensation pushes me over my own cliff, and I release a high, keening note as waves of pleasure wash over me. I quiver as I thrust my hips at him, trying to maintain the pressure. Suddenly, my pussy walls begin to contract strongly, eliciting a surprised grunt from Nate. Finally, we collapse into a tangle of arms and legs.

“Corey, I’m going to the bathroom so I can get cleaned up,” Nate says. Before he stands up, he gives me a soft kiss on my swollen lips. I kiss him back ,as I feel the remaining twitches within my pussy beginning to die away. After he finishes, he comes back out and puts his clothes on. I go into the bathroom and clean myself up, then comb my hair back into the loose braid I had put in at home. Back in my office, I get dressed.

I look up. Nate is standing right in front of me, raising my chin with one finger.

“I expect that we’re going to start seeing each other. I’ve been dreaming of you . . . too damn long, he says in a soft voice. Again, he lowers his mouth to my level, and gives me a soft, searching kiss.

I turn over and wake up, realizing that I just had another one of my “hot-sex-with-Nate” dreams. Looking at my bedside clock, I realize it’s only 3 a.m. I swear softly to myself, knowing that I’m going to have to relieve the pressure my dream created. Wiggling under my covers, I pull my pajamas off. My panties soon follow, flying to the floor as my fingers find my breasts, pussy and clit. I massage myself, moaning loudly in the silent room, as I duplicate the sensations that Dream-Nate brought out of my body. I quickly reach an explosive orgasm with my legs straightening out and stiffening in bed. Wanting to completely drain myself, I strum my fingers hard and fast on my clit, and I keep coming hard, over and over. Several minutes later, my heart is hammering with sweet satisfaction. I go to the bathroom and clean myself, then decide to sleep in the nude – just in case. In bed, I drift off once again.

My pussy’s insistent throbbing wakes me once again. I look at the time – 4:30. I begin to play with myself again, rolling to my front so I can move more easily against my hand as I play with my clit. Ten minutes later, I scream Nate’s name into my thick pillow, as I come yet again. I collapse into a heap under my covers, and my heavy eyes drift shut again, until I hear the voice of the radio announcer. Stretching, I shake my head and get out of bed.

***

I’m sitting at my desk, and my resignation letter is sitting in my messenger bag, burning a hole through the leather. I force my attention to the quarterly spreadsheets, due on Nate’s desk by the end of this week. As I stare at the little numbers, they blur into a dark mess and I yawn. I grab the large cup of coffee I bought on my way in and take a huge, tongue-scalding swallow.  I just have to be alert when Nate comes in – I can’t appear sleepy at the start of my day. Oh, shit, I hear him coming! Coffee, do your work! I shift my eyes to the computer screen, and start working through the numbers. It had better be accurate.

“Morning, Mr. Drummond. Hope you had a nice evening last . . . night,” I chirp. Damn! My breath just got knocked out of me again. Or maybe I have asthma. I don’t know which one sounds worse.

“Morning, Corey. Are you alright?” Nate asked.

“Yes, sir, I’m fine. I just took a sip of coffee that’s a bit too hot,” I deflect.
Should I give him the letter now or later? Simple - later! Much as I don’t like reacting to his presence, I don’t want to be out of it either. Oh, you lovesick girl.
“I should have these spreadsheets to you by the end of the day,” I tell him.