Naked Sushi. Jina Bacarr

night. The guys meet at Sam’s Bar after work and memorize cards.” A lightbulb moment flickered in my brain, making me ask, “How come they didn’t invite you?”

      “I prefer strip poker.” He ran his fingers over my bare midriff, digging them down into the elastic waistband of my panties. I moaned and instinctively pushed against him. From the grin on his face, I could see he was turned-on.

      “How about a game of Five-Card Stud?” I mumbled no louder than a whisper. Could he smell my need, moistening my panties with droplets of desire?

      I could, which meant I couldn’t wait much longer.

      “I’ve got a winning hand right here,” he said, grabbing my ass.

      What would happen next, I could only guess. Anticipation, I found out, could be as good as or better than the sex.

      I didn’t have long to wait to find out.

      He turned me around and faced me toward the copier and then slid my jeans down below my thighs. Next, he pulled down my black silky panties and then ran his finger up and down the crack in my rear, eliciting a moan from me. I wiggled my butt as his fingers moved up and down in an intimate manner so close to my anal hole I couldn’t stop panting.

      The naughty girl in me was overly excited by what was happening to me in the chilly copy room. I felt daring with my pants down in this high-tech room in an old Victorian mansion, once the seat of respectability.

      And, boy, was I turned-on.

      In spite of the air-cooled temp, I seethed with heated anticipation when he positioned himself behind me and then eased forward to push the bulge in his pants against my bare butt. I heard the snap of a condom.

      “Is that a new one?” I asked him, hopeful.

      That surprised him. “Don’t worry,” he said, laughing. “The expiration date is years away.”

      I sighed, relieved. If I were thinking straight, that would have alerted me that something was wrong. Most programmers I knew carry subprime, expired condoms. But I wasn’t thinking straight. Instead, I twisted my head around and saw him pull out his dick and slip a raincoat over it.

      Jeez.

      “Big” didn’t begin to describe him.

      I licked my lips.

      I arched my back in total surrender when I felt his erect cock push against the cheeks of my backside. He found me wet and ready for him when he inserted one finger and then two inside me. Without a word, he slid into me with ease. I rode him without fear, his cock moving in and out of me, my passion building, his breathing becoming more erratic with each thrust. I squeezed my eyes, and I swear tears escaped onto my cheeks. My feelings became so intense I couldn’t help myself.

      I moaned and moaned and moaned.

      I didn’t care about anything else then. All I could do was let go. I couldn’t believe my luck. This was me, Pepper, desired by a sexy man. Instead of always being on the outside looking at the cool people, I was having a booty call at midnight, and it was sublime.

      His hips smacked into my butt, pushing his cock into me, his breathing coming loud and fast. I could barely utter a word. My throat was hoarse from letting go of my emotions and the pent-up feelings buried so deep inside me. I couldn’t wait for release. I swear he sensed my desperation. He nuzzled his face in my hair, muttering sexy endearments in my ear, his musky, intoxicating smell overwhelming me. Then he fucked me harder, his thrusts stronger, his rhythm unchanging as his cock filled me until it was almost painful. I didn’t care.

      “Harder,” I yelled.

      The stirrings of a powerful orgasm built inside me. That delicious spiral of something intangible swirling around inside you. Promising you a taste of pleasure beyond what you’ve experienced; pleasure you will do anything for.

      I couldn’t hold back much longer.

      I leaned forward over the copy machine, pushing my buttocks up against him, urging him on. His body stiffened against me and he yelled out, his voice ragged, vibrating off the walls.

      The room swayed in front of my eyes, the steady rhythm of sex, sex, sex beating in my brain like frenetic drummers with ceaseless energy. A surge much like an electrical charge gripped us both, racing through his body and into mine.

      Then he came.

      His explosive climax set off an out-of-control response in me. I went wild, crying out, thrashing about and slamming my hands down on the platen glass of the copy machine. Crazed, frantic, lost in whirling abandon, I slid my sweaty palms all over the machine. Wild, pawing, and scratching like a wolf in heat.

      Oh, my God, it was good.

      It didn’t last.

      In a wild moment, I pushed the copy button by mistake. A powerful white light flooded into my face as the light bar moved back and forth, blinding me.

      I hit another button and a blaring alarm went off.

      Oh, shit.

      I was a goner.