Mariah sat there for a second, stunned, not really believing that he'd leave her there without her clothes. Then she dashed for the door, opening it just in time to see Jamie walk around the corner. She stared after him for several moments, waiting for him to return. When she heard the bell for the elevator sound faintly in the distance, she closed and locked her office door.
"You son of a b***h!" she yelled out loud. Then she caught herself. She needed to be quiet in the event that someone came into the office. It was unlikely this late in the day on a Saturday, but you never knew.
She paced her office like a caged animal, unable to sit for more than a moment or two, unable to stand still. She cursed herself for taking her sweater home last month, but she hadn't worn it at work in months. Who knew that she'd end up stranded in her office without a shred of clothing?
She looked at the clock every few seconds, wondering why time was standing still, and then she paced some more.
After pressing the button to call the elevator, Jamie turned around and went back to the employee lounge. The agency took up the majority of the third floor of a six-story office building in the suburbs. There had been two other people in the office that morning, but they'd left hours ago and it was highly unlikely that anyone else would come in now. If they did, however, the lounge was located halfway back to the art department, and anyone heading towards Mariah's office would have to go right past him. Despite appearances, he had no desire to see any harm come to Mariah. He just wanted a small payback for the 90-day review she'd given him.
So he sat back on the sofa and grabbed a magazine. And he waited.
It had been an hour and 15 minutes since Jamie had left her, and still Mariah waited, still she paced the floor of her office. What if he didn't come back, she thought. What would she do then? She thought about calling a friend, but which friend would she want to rescue her in her present state? And how would they get into the building? The doors were always locked on weekends. Who'd let them in? The only people she knew with keys were employees, and that was out of the question.
So she paced.
And then there was a noise. Someone was out there. She rushed to the office door, stopping suddenly before she reached it. What if it wasn't him?
Then there was a knock on the door. "Mariah? I'm back. Open the door."
She flew to the door and threw it open. She glared at him as he entered, carrying her clothing with him. "You bastard!" she screamed as she threw herself at him, forcing him against the wall. "You son of a b***h!" she hissed as she threw her arms around him and pressed her lips against his, sucking wildly at his tongue and lips, rubbing her body against him like an animal just brought in from the wild.
She grabbed his T-shirt and jerked it over his head. She grabbed his shoulders, turned him, and pushed him backwards to the table, until it was him on his back looking up at her.
"Did you miss me?" he asked, a wry smile on his face.
"You bastard," she hissed back as ripped open his trousers and pulled them down to his shoes. She bent over and quickly removed and discarded his shoes, and then removed his pants.
Without wasting any time, she hopped onto the table, straddled his manhood, and impaled herself upon him, falling forward and into his arms as she pumped her p***y on his meat.
Jamie quickly answered her desperate call, thrusting his c**k into her as she shoved herself onto him, knowing that he wouldn't last long.
But she came first, moaning loudly, her face hanging above his. She tried to open her eyes, wanting to watch him watching her. But her orgasm was too intense, and too sudden. When it finally passed, she collapsed on top of him. And slowly, they caught their breath.
She raised her head just enough to look at him. "You bastard," she whispered, lowering her lips to his.
For a while, they just lay there, recovering from the passion that had consumed them. "We should be going," he said at last.
Reluctantly, she sat up and looked down on him, his limp p***s having long ago slipped from her p***y. She eased herself off the table, took his outstretched hand, and helped him to his feet.
"Where did you go?" she asked as she peered into his eyes.
At first, he smiled, and then he started to chuckle softly. "I was sitting in the lounge reading magazines."
She looked at him, a puzzled look on her face. "But the elevator. I heard it," she questioned.
"Yeah, I figured you might be listening for it, so I called it up before I went to the lounge." The smirk on his face stretched nearly from one ear to the other.
She hesitated for a moment, and then laughed. "You bastard."
They got dressed in silence, neatened each other up as best as they could and left. When they reached the lot where they'd parked their cars, she hesitated. "Whose car are we taking?"
He looked at her before responding. "Both. Tonight, you go to your home, and I'll go to mine. I'll call you in the morning."
"But," she stammered. "I thought . . ." She left the thought unfinished.
Jamie reached out and gently stroked her hair. "You'll need your rest tonight. I've got plans for you tomorrow," he said.
They walked to her car in silence. He held the door open for her and waited while she got settled and started the car. She looked at him one more time, before slamming the car into gear and peeling out of the lot.
Jamie stood and watched until she was gone from sight. "Wow," he said softly, almost reverently, as he turned and made his way to his car.