Christian Delivers The Passion Melinda Needed.

I normally hate delivering the sappy gifts and trinkets between husbands and wives. Not that I am bitter or anything, I just find it absurdly ironic how much men and women light up over the delivery of gifts. If they really cared they'd find time in the day to deliver it themselves, or just give the gift when they're at home together. Of course, it's about the spectacle. All of their loved one's coworkers get to bear witness to this "grand" gesture that proves that they really love their significant other. Perhaps they do and perhaps I simply over-think the whole thing.

From time to time I get a particular brand of this delivery, a half assed effort for even a half assed gesture. Some cheap pieces of fabric stuffed with polyester in an attempt to mimic some animal that wouldn't even be fit for a WalMart claw machine, or dollar store brand chocolates along with a card that looks as though it's leftovers from a bulk set bought ages ago. Honestly a waste to spend money on the delivery service, but hey I don't take the money, I just have to hand over the carefully cared for and insured garbage to those unlucky people who have to iron on a phony smile so as to not let on their mate is an inconsiderate ass.

As I arrived at the floor the delivery was directed to, I snuck a quick peek at the surely laughable message in the card, it was as lame as I would imagine, "Hapy bday babe." Probably written absentmindedly when our desk clerk, Claire, often has to suggest to the dolts that, "A personalized message will bring a much broader smile to your loved one."

I was half way across the office space when I noticed how deserted the office was. Luckily, it made it easier to find the receiver, and would spare this woman any potential embarrassment. I spotted the small glass walled office of Melinda and gently tapping the open door to alert her to my presence. As she lifted her head from her small pile of papers, I instantly took notice of her beauty. Her short blonde hair, pale blue eyes behind her nerdy glasses, gorgeous lips, all were a prelude to the rest of her amazing body that came up from behind her desk. She was trim, but not some bean pole, maybe 5' 10" in height. She wore a loose and flowing white blouse, tucking into her crimson red skirt that ran several inches below her knees, but a severe slit that split the skirt on the left side up to her mid-thigh. When she walked toward me the slit gave me an incredible view of he black stockings that ended at the thigh where the slit ended revealing the clip for the garter belt that held the stockings in place.

I managed to glance at her wonderful body and return my gaze to her eyes without being too obvious. I introduced myself and handed over the flimsy stuffed bear and card. Recognizing the disappointed look, I offered my apologies and joked that I would understand if I didn't get a tip.

Melinda sighed and told me apologies weren't necessary, John, her husband, is like a child who gets a laugh from an adult. He gave her the cheap gift several years ago and she politely expressed appreciation, and so, he just gives her this every birthday afterward.

When she turned to discard the present in her waste bin I heard her mumble something unkind, and remarked how ripped off she was to be married to an incompetent boy. Nervously, and because my mind had wandered to sex, I offered that at least, I hear the boyish ones are only good for one thing anyway. To which she scoffed and then let out a few short burst of laughter. She then unloaded a volley of grievances with her husband's bedroom buffoonery that almost made me feel for the guy, but I quickly dismissed that as I caught her gaze. Her face was glowing with pent up passion and lust, her words, though harsh, were filled with the quiet pleadings of a woman who only achieves orgasm by way of a vibrating lump of plastic.

Something about her beauty and knowing how sexually unsatisfied she was made my heart beat faster. My mind raced with dozens of small erotic acts I'd do to her to build her lust, the words I'd whisper while I penetrate her to awaken her sexuality. I suddenly became aware of my cock pressing desperately to escape my briefs and shorts. Before I could make a move to conceal it, I noticed Melinda's eyes locked on my crotch, her mouth slightly parted as though she were going to drool.

I couldn't believe it, this gorgeous and vibrant woman, neglected by her pathetic husband, and with only the mere sight of my bulge, she looked as though she was going to drop to her knees and feast on me like she'd just been released from prison.

I certainly wasn't going to let this opportunity slip by me. I don't generally pursue married women, but when the other guy is so neglectful, their wife can be heated by a strangers bulge, the marriage was dead long before my cock got stiff. I moved my hand to my crotch and gripped the hard outline of my cock and stroked up the length.

Melinda broke her gaze and rushed to her desk to sit down. She kept trying to make eye contact, but couldn't resist drinking in the show I was putting on for her, which I took up a notch by pressing my hand into my pants to make the entire length of my cock visible beneath the fabric of my shorts.

She muttered a weak apology, but as I moved forward I hushed her and said, "Don't apologize for John, he should be the one quelling your desire for hard throbbing cock." Melinda inhaled sharply and that's when I noticed her right hand clumsily seeking a path to her surely hot, throbbing, aching, and dripping wet pussy. Her left hand was gripping the edge of her desk, turning her knuckles white.

It was clear that this woman needed to be fucked and used, violated and abused to quench her lustful cravings. I grabbed her left arm and asked if there was a room where we could ensure privacy. She muttered, "C-copy ro...ommm."

I pulled Melinda to her feet, and when she let out a low groan of disappointment at being torn from her sexual reverie, I pulled her in close enough to feel my bulge pressed against her and kissed her deep and long. One hand still holding her left arm and the other I used to run the length of her back until it came to cup and squeeze her supple ass and spurred her into action. She made a bee line for the copy room, my hands still gripping her.

When we entered the copy room Melinda immediately closed the door and with a strength that must come from her frustration, she moved a six foot filing cabinet in front of the door. I thought it was pointless, as a blockade would be as damning as actually witnessing the unprofessional conduct we were about to commit, but clearly Melinda didn't think of it or care. She quickly dropped to her knees and nearly ruined my belt in her attempt to free my aching cock. I decided to take charge of her before she did damaged my uniform, or worse my cock, in her haste to finally satisfying the lust pent up in her.

I grabbed her by her hair and forced her to look up at me. She gave me a sad look, but I ignored it and firmly said, "Stop it, you're acting like a bratty little bitch who's so concerned with what she wants she doesn't think of anything else." She frowned and tried to look away. I held her hair and forced her eyes to me. A slight grin gave away that she liked a rough hand tempering her unbridled lust.

I continued, "Allow me to remove my shorts, and when I let go of your hair you will wait until my shorts and briefs are removed, and then you may explore my cock and balls with your hands and mouth. Don't be rough or in a hurry, if you want me to pleasure you, then you will do well to pleasure me, understood?"

"Yes," she said timidly. I yanked back on her hair and glared into her eyes, "Yes, what?" "Yes, sir." She spoke with a little more confidence. I released her hair and completed removing my clothing and without warning the electricity of sensation in all the right places made my knees quake, my head rock back, and an involuntary moan escape my lips.

One of her hands was gently caressing the length of my cock and alternately grasping at the meaty girth. Her other hand stroked my inner thigh. Her mouth seemed to be working overtime, her tongue licking, tasting and savoring the taut skin of my cock, then her mouth quickly sucking in my sack flesh and both balls into her mouth where she massaged them and moaned deeply as though she had a g spot in her mouth that only my huge, heavy testes could stimulate.

When she finally engulfed the head of my cock past her saliva smeared lips I was leaning against the copy machine to my right. In seconds she had my cock buried in her throat and she looked up at me. The look in her eyes at the moment was indescribable, and soon she closed her eyes, moaned, vibrating her throat on my cock head, then began moving her head back and forth fucking her own throat with my cock.

I wasn't sure if she was aware that I would cum pretty soon from this, so I grabbed her hair and pulled my cock from her mouth with a wet pop. I grinned devilishly and used my hips to swing my rigid member against her face several times. She feined an attempt to pull away, but I called her lie and growled, "don't deny it, you love my cock, you want it in you and near you no matter what. You'd gladly have my meat pole beat you and bruise your pretty face just so you could have a reminder of how a man's hard flesh feels to your delicate body filled with the sexual hunger of a fierce beast. She locked eyes with me and smiled wide, "Yes, sir, beat me with your cock, rub it all over me so I can enjoy the scent of you. Penetrate me and feed my slutty longing for cock, let me swallow your balls, oh fuck... fuck..."

I was concerned for a moment at her loss of composure, until she blurted out, "FUCK, I'm cumming, holy fuck..." She grabbed my hips tight as her body quaked and trembled and she continued, "FUCK! How am I cumming, oh my god, oh my..."

I interrupted, "I suppose your pussy has been unattended so long that the taste of cock, the feel of its rigidity, and my firm words and hands triggered something in you that's been yearning for someone like me." Melinda gasped, and weakly agreed and fell to the floor on her back. Her skirt parted at the slit and without hesitation I moved as my own sexual urging commanded and lifted her skirt away and in one movement I pulled aside her juice soaked panties with such aggression that the fabric ripped allowing even better access to what my cock was longing to invade. I ran my cock over her pussy lips both teasing her still contracting twat and lubricating my eager member. Slowly I pushed into her womanhood, gaining more access to her quivering core between the convulsions when the muscles would relax, until, finally I was buried firmly in her.

Her eyes widened, her mouth froze agape, and her body trembled once more. Our eyes met and I told her, "Your pussy is doing its best to milk my cock, I may not have time to pull out."

Without hesitation she put her arms around me and began moving her hips, fucking my cock, then shouted, "Please, sir, don't pull out, my pussy needs that hot fucking cum load. Please, sir, give me that sticky icky. I want to feel your sticky load warm and soothing inside me the rest of the day."

With a beautiful, sexy, slutty, naughty office girl begging with an urgency as though life would end if I denied her, I aggressively thrust my shaft in and out of her its full length. Of course with such an intense build up to this moment, I lasted maybe over a minute. I composed myself enough to lean to her ear and whispered with a quiet confidence that, no doubt, turned her on even more knowing I can keep my composure even under intense pleasure, "You're making me cum, baby, your pussy is milking my cock, keep milking, get every drop, you've earned it you sexy fucking cock slut."

I then unleashed the first of many hot, sharp torrents of fluid deep inside her long neglected pussy. "Fucking god, it's so fucking warm, you're filling me so full, yes, yes, fuck you're still shooting in me. Drown my fucking uterus with your hot thick load. I never want this to stop... ugghnnnn."

Still hard, but feeling rightly drained, and presumably so did she. We lay holding each other on the floor of the copy room for quite some time, until a small voice urged our weak and sated bodies into action. Quickly, I dressed and with only a cursory glance at Melinda, I deftly moved the filing cabinet away from the door.

I was about to open the door, when Melinda called out, "No, no.... sir." I halted and after she checked herself over that her clothing was in place and using her ripped panties to dab any stray cum that might show, she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me with renewed vigor. "You're amazing," she softly spoke into my ear and I returned the compliment. At which point she broke our embrace, opened the door and spoke aloud, "Thank you for your help with those boxes, sir. I'm sorry to have kept you." I shrugged and insisted it was no bother as her coworker, Susan came up to us with a barrage of incessant complaints about a call that Melinda had missed.

I didn't want to leave just yet, I wanted to get her number, arrange for another rendezvous, but I could see no rational excuse to hang around. Thankfully, Melinda wanted more too and before I left she called out to me, "Umm, sir, I didn't sign the release form for the delivery? Did I?" Excitedly, I produced an old delivery slip I had in my breast pocket (our company didn't require signatures for small deliveries, especially not the garbage I brought Melinda) and pointed to an empty space on the slip.

I took one more long look at my beauty, face flushed, lust quelled, and vagina filled with my seed. I then looked at the slip, on which was written her phone number and a note, "Best birthday ever, I'm off at 6 this evening, John works all night, please give me more, sir."

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This will be the first part in a series of erotic stories. The two main characters will be Christian (Narrator and Master) and Melinda (Submissive slut to her Master and trapped in a loveless, sexless marriage). While I do have plenty of writing experience, this is my first foray into the world of erotic literature, and it may show in this first part. Alas, the only way to hone this craft is to simply, write. It is my sincere hope that you, the reader, truly enjoy these stories, but my only true goal in this en devour is the entertainment and approval of one person. Happy Birthday, my sweet, I dedicate this to you on your special day.