admin
27 Mayıs 2023, 16:09
Tick, tick, tick, the lights in the elevator passed behind the numbers, 6, 7, 8. Water dripped down the sides of Malcolm's boots, leaving slight puddles on the floor. He texted Natalie, "Missed the train be home a little later." The metal box finally let out a ding and he gave a final soft shake like a dog, before stepping out onto the wall-to-wall, hard-packed corporate carpeting.He walked in the dim light given by the twinkle of the city skyscrapers outside the windows, knowing the path with muscle memory to his cubicle. His left shin found a metal wire waste bin left in the walkway, spilling him onto the floor."Fuck, ahh fuck," Malcolm hissed between his teeth. He came back up to a knee and kicked it under a nearby desk, and rubbed his leg. Seeping through the insulation and corked ceiling tiles was music and the occasional thud of a foot from the executive Christmas party. Malcolm had an invite, but the thinly veiled elbow-rubbing of wannabe sycophants made the premise unpalatable. Recovered he finished his journey, sighing audibly with relief, there right where he left it, was the wrapped box labeled: "To Natalie, From Santa."The elevator dinged and light spilled into the entry hallway. Malcolm ducked, but questioned why he did almost immediately.Wait, there's no reason I can't be here.A pair of suppressed laughs make their way into the bullpen. "Come on," an airy voice whispered. Malcolm's arm hair stood up.No way.Peeking his head up, in ısparta escort (https://www.escorthun.com/il/isparta-escort/) the heavy shadow he could make out two figures heading to the copier/breakroom. The taller one in front set their mug down on the counter with a definite ceramic clack, while the shorter one behind found the light switch.Immediately Malcolm knew them, with his back to the bullpen was the stocky figure of Phil. You'd swear he was a gymnast when he was younger, but 20 years of sitting on his laurels and early hairline recession made him a real bastard of a manager. What caught Malcolm's eye was beyond him.He'd seen Lana a handful of times in his tenure here, but she had a way of sticking with you. Her snow-white sweater with tacky recreation of Kim Kardashian's "Break the Internet" featuring Santa may have fit the criteria of an ugly Christmas sweater, but it did nothing to tone her down.Her flirty smile seemed to reflect light right into Malcolm's eyes making him blink immediately. Her black skinny jeans made a perfect silhouette of her legs that flared out upon reaching her hips. The sweater held such beautiful contrast with her warm terra-cotta skin, it made her face stand out more.Her lips were plied open in that smile, that fucking smile. Deep purple lipstick furthered the contrast. Her chin was defined to a point where you could cut your hand on it, framed by dripping dark rings of hair. Underneath full eyebrows were hakkari escort (https://www.escorthun.com/il/hakkari-escort/) deep mahogany eyes, the kind where if you had the opportunity you'd be a fool not to fall into them.She peeled off her sweater in a fluid movement that was a blip in history but dragged for minutes in the mind. A skin tone bandeau top held her chest close. Her stomach was perfect from some sort of exercise. Phil immediately latched his hands to her, magnetically pulled, digging his fingers in where he could.Her smile felt different as she looked at him becoming mesmerized, placing a hand on his shoulder she looked around and out into the darkness which was looking back at her. She sucked air through her teeth in surprise as she locked in on the figure in the dark.Leather jacket obscuring his frame and peeking out of his pocket an employee lanyard. A faint bit of brown stubble around his chin formed an attractive goatee, black hair just long enough to sink the tips of her fingers into to get hold of curls. Staring back at her were eyes glowing with, desire? No, admiration, a more patient appreciation. He looked like he was about to jump out of his skin and bolt. "You like this," Phil asked from her cleavage.Shit. Lana looked back down, "Relax, I'm not going anywhere."She flipped a hand behind her, deftly undoing the clasps of her brassiere she slowly lowered it with her other hand. Her breasts slid to rest like dollops bingöl escort (https://www.escorthun.com/il/bingol-escort/) of whipped cream, dark areolas challenging you to a staring contest. Her eyes rose to see the figure in dark.What are you going to do now?Malcolm felt something catch in his throat.Fuck."Fuck," Phil brought thick fingers to pinch her buds and tilted his head up to kiss her. She met him halfway but her eyes remained open, glancing out to the man in the dark. Malcolm felt blood rush to his penis. She placed her hands on Phil's shoulders, "Down boy."She pushed him down to a kneeling position and with a quick flick of the wrist, the fastener and zipper were no longer fulfilling their purpose. Lana tucked her thumbs underneath the waistband and in tandem with rocking her hips inched them down over her pert backside. As the fabric rolled over the thickest part of her, it's snapped like a rubber band, landing right below to cup her ass. It gave off a subtle jiggle like Jello on a table that had been bumped. In a moment the jeans were a dark pile on the floor, black lace nestled in them. She looked down at Phil.That boyish charm had aged out of him, not to say he'd grown ugly or unattractive at all, but he'd come to expect things. Phil moved in to kiss her inner thighs, bouncing between left and right every third peck until he found her sex. Lana let out a sigh with a touch of rasp in her throat that gave it an almost purr-like quality. She tilted her head back enjoying the moment before looking out at the figure again.Good boy.A smirk crept up in corner of her lips revealing the faintest of laugh lines. She now had the best look of him all night, he'd peeled off the jacket somewhere. His broad shoulders and thick neck pushed against the fabric of his navy blue button-down.Fuck he's tall. 6'4"?