CAM4 Erotic Stories #3: Lunch Break Lust

Erotic Stories combines written storytelling, narrated video, and social discovery. Each week we will publish curated stories authored by real content creators from CAM4.

Lunch Break Lust
by Laura Desiree

I’m not one to take a lunch break. All my life I’ve always powered right through my day, and if anything, left my post a little earlier than everyone else. It’s just how I stay productive: push through each day until breathless with exhaustion. But sure enough, in the middle of a seemingly predictable week and the middle of a perfectly average day, lunch hour came as it always did. I was seated at my desk with every intention to type right through it. My phone buzzed, and the screen lit up with the name I gave him to live anonymously in my phone. It wasn’t that we shouldn’t be texting each other; it was that he was famous. Small talk and friendly correspondence were never our thing. We didn’t perform routine “check-ins” from opposite coasts between encounters. But we always shared with each other the very second we caught ourselves reminiscing about the sex we’ve had in the past. Flashbacks we would relive in vivid, descriptive detail. We were committed bodies and oh-so-smutty souls to the vow of always meeting for a rendezvous of carnal extent.

This text hit like a bat signal to the night sky. I knew it would be rough. I knew we might endure injuries in the act and injuries in the aftermath; no one fucked us like we fucked each other. There’s an inevitable withdrawal each time we survive it. His text was brief. The name of the hotel, the room number, the time his car would arrive for his event, and that he desperately wanted to hear that sound I would make in his final thrusts.

After washing off my pussy in the sink of the office bathroom, I fastened my hair into a ponytail in the back seat of the taxi. We’d be getting right to work the second that door opened, and I was ready. I breezed past the front desk, taking that leap of faith when entering an unknown hotel you aren’t staying at, unaware of where to find the elevators while desperately trying to avoid being stopped for questions. I guessed right and was inside of the mirrored elevator travelling to the penthouse. I pushed my hand down the front of my slacks to find it was already slippery in my panties.

I made it to his door. Before my knuckles reach the wood, it opens. I’m inside now and catch my breath while slumped with my back against the back of the door and my hips pushed out toward him. We stare at each other. No words. I smirk with my jaw dropping open, still panting hard, and slowly raise my wrists above my head and intertwine my fingers. I’m locked onto his eyes while my tits rise and fall with each breath. At the top of an inhale, his mouth seals itself to mine. His right hand around my wrists and left hand on my ass, lifting my hips into his. Our mouths know exactly how to work each other; they fit perfectly. I suck on his bottom lip and let my teeth dig in as I pull away. We’re starving for each other. He grips me tightly, his fingers digging into my hip bones as his mouth trails down my neck onto my chest. I’m moaning from the sheer thrill of it all. Everything is happening so quickly. My trousers and panties are across my shins as I lay my hands around his shaved skull and shiver. His tongue drags heavy over my clit with a wet, hot friction. He feasts like a lion, teeth and snout buried deep into me, his steamy, sopping prey. We don’t have much time. I stand him up to feed me the flavor of my pussy through a kiss. I can feel his cock in his pants. My hand squeezes it with pulses all the way to the tip. I need it out of his pants. On my knees, I greedily release it and begin to devour it. There’s no teasing in how we touch each other. I stare up at him while he drives his cock to the back of my mouth, into my throat. I let him get away with a few deep slams and sneak my tongue out past my teeth to lick his balls while he’s this far in.

The hotel phone rings. We ignore it. He could easily finish in my throat in a matter of seconds, but instead he tears open a condom from his pocket and rolls it onto his cock. The band feels tight at the base of his cock; if it swells up any thicker, this thing would snap right off. With his fingers he scoops out the saliva from my mouth and paints himself with it; a string of my spit hangs from the tip of him.

I bend over the counter we’re up against and hike my knee on top of it. Standing behind me, he slaps my pussy with his hand, making a splashing sound. He pulls his cock all the way into my pussy. No teasing, no slow, shallow pumps. His cock has the most perfectly sculpted head at the top of it that rubs over every curve and ripple inside of me on its way in and out. The phone rings again. He has two fingers in my mouth, stirring up the spit, and two fingers on my pussy, grinding on my clit. I can feel the veins in his cock through the latex; there’s a buzz and hum in them as he stiffens rock solid. My pussy is choking his cock with how tight I’m gripped to it. I’m holding my breath as he builds up to the very edge of climax. We’ve made it to those final, exploding thrusts. I’m gasping and aching with the feeling of heat, clench, and vibrant release as my clit rolls around his fingertips. There’s that sound he likes. His cock gurgles inside me, and I know he’s emptying a load that’s been building up for too long. His cellphone rings.

We’re both catching our breath, he answers and assures them he’s on his way down. We made a mess. He peels off the condom, washes his hands in the sink, and laps up a couple of mouthfuls of water, rinsing the smell of me off him. I’m still dripping. He kisses me and tells me to stay for a hot bath and room service. I decline and suit up to head back to the office.

We will always find each other when we’re close and do this. The best sex of my life was just that—just sex.

~ x ~

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