1. It's All About You...


    Date: 11/21/2017, Categories: First Time, Hardcore, Mature, Author: sexorbit69, Source: xHamster

    You look at the card with some degree of curiosity and a quiver in your belly, just north of your lonely clit. It is a brilliant white business card, with gold lettering and a professional, elegant border in the same color. It’s perfectly centered on your desk, mutely beckoning you, and you lift it from the desk, almost sorry to move it, so perfectly it was placed. Peering furtively inside three or four adjacent cubicles, you see nothing similar there, then look more closely at the tiny message. The letters are a fancy, bold serif font, massive and…masculine, you realize. The message is tantalizing in its brevity, and what it hints at. “It’s All About You. No Names, No Commitments.” The number warns it’s for texting only, and you think about what the card’s message means, certain that you already know what its intent is. Who left it? Likely a friend in the office, or someone setting you up for a cruel prank. No-one would ever have a card like this, dare to creep in and put it on your desk, carry through with the unspoken promise. It must be a joke, you decide, and put the card in your desk hurriedly as your co-workers file into the office. Throughout the morning, you work at your reports and e-mails, pushing the mysterious note almost but not entirely out of your mind. No-one seems to be watching you, no-one is waiting for you to peer inside your desk for the card, no-one seems to be snickering to themselves at their cleverness, or contemplation of your deep embarrassment ...
    when you discover it was really all a trick. At lunch, you barely taste your salad, savoring the thought of what you think that card might lead to. The rest of the day goes more slowly, but you doggedly press on, forcing your thoughts away from your wants. At the end of the day, you pull the card from your desk, and conceal it in your black leather wallet, a gift from the last man you slept with, nearly two years ago. ******** In your room that night, you hike your oversized shirt over your breasts, and touch yourself, massaging your tits the way he used to, feeling the nipples harden and curdle beneath your palms. Now you rub your clit, and pop your dildo inside the waiting warmth, but you feel as empty as always. Your orgasm is almost a reflex, but you have no-one else yet to bring that out of you. To tell the truth, you haven’t really been looking. So, why the card? You drift off to sl**p thinking about its origin, whatever that might be, and who it was that placed this temptation for you. The more your drowsy thoughts turn to the mystery of it, the more you convince yourself that it is only a joke. You pull down your nightshirt, pull up the covers, and sl**p. ******** The next days are crisp and cool, and you feel the air whip past you, your nipples stiffening with each fresh Northern gust. You’ve gotten yourself off every night since you discovered the card on your desk, and still feel unfulfilled. Determined not to be the butt of what you know now must be some elaborate ...
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