Never Too Busy To Fuck

4 min read

photo: MetArt

My pussy respects no deadlines…

His cock flexes inside me and I miss the key I’m aiming for and type an unintelligible string of letters. Damn. Backspace. I take a deep breath and try again. This time he flexes his cock twice, a double beat of arousal sparking through me as my pussy involuntarily contracts around it in response.

I reach for the keyboard and miss it entirely as his hand slides inside my shirt and finds my nipple, pinching it in time with the next hard flex of his erection. I can feel wetness pooling around the root of his cock where it stretches me open, and it takes all my self-control not to grind down on it. My clit is throbbing with the need to be rubbed hard.

“You’ve stopped typing,” he says teasingly, bouncing me in his lap so his cock eases out of me a fraction, and then surges even deeper as he drops me back down on him. I swear I feel it swell even thicker, hot and throbbing against every sensitive spot on my sugar walls, making me feel faint with lust.

“Hold still then!” I retort; but we both know I don’t really mean it.

The past few days have been a whirlwind of super-intense gym sessions, dog’s physio appointments (she just had a knee replacement), social gatherings I committed to ages ago and couldn’t cancel, and heavy deadlines (don’t feel too sorry for me, my day job is writing porn). It’s been crazy busy, and my personal life is suffering — by which I mean my sex life.

It’s mid-morning, and I am immersed in writing smut when my best friend and fuckbuddy Tony shows up with flowers and a boner.

“I was just thinking about you, and I decided what you needed to brighten up your boring day was my cock,” he explains candidly.

“That’s a very nice thought, but I’m too busy right now, I have to get some work done,” I respond.

“Who are you and what have you done with Rose?”

“I’m not kidding,” I laugh. “I’ve got a bunch of movie synopses to write, I can’t stop to fuck.”

Tony’s face lights up, struck by an inspired notion. “I have the perfect solution,” he grins, taking my hand and leading me back to my desk.

I should have guessed his solution would be to kneel on the floor under my desk, pull off my panties and eat my pussy while I type.

He starts slowly and gently, so it’s only mildly distracting. I have to admit, getting licked lends a certain horny inspiration to my writing, and the action I’m watching on screen — a lesbian movie, two girls eating pussy in a sixty-nine — matches up with what I’m feeling quite nicely. I am definitely making more typos than usual, although I can blame that on my poor posture, my hips tilted under to give Tony’s tongue access to the groove between my smooth, plump lips.

My typing deteriorates further when he dabbles two fingers in the wetness seeping from my core and pushes them inside me, licking my clit more firmly as he seeks my G-spot. He knows he’s found the magic button when I start to squirm and shiver, little bolts of bliss darting through me. I close my eyes and realize I’ve missed several seconds of the movie; I rewind and try to concentrate, then realize I’ve done the same thing again. I pause the movie and surrender to the crescendo of sensation engulfing my pussy from inside and out, escalating until — bam! An orgasm thunders through me.

Tony is far from done.

Emerging from under the desk with his lips and chin glossed with my wetness, he frees his boner from his straining pants, lifts me from my chair, takes a seat and pulls me on top of him, neatly skewering my drenched pussy.

“Type,” he says softly, and the gravelly undertone in his voice tells me the situation is giving him a kinky thrill. I do my best to keep up the pretence that I’m absorbed in my work, attempting to form coherent sentences while the thick cock filling my pussy short-circuits my brain.

Normally I get mad if anyone reads over my shoulder while I’m typing, but then I’ve never had anyone do it while they were fucking me before. I know the sexy movie playing on my screen will be adding a frisson of excitement for Tony, too; no matter how much porn you’ve seen (and we’ve both seen a lot), watching cute girls eat pussy skilfully never loses its appeal. As one of the girls starts to have an undeniably real climax, Tony’s cock responds by doing a little dance inside me, twitching and jumping as he restrains the urge to thrust.

He can’t help rocking on the seat though, and as the underside of his rigid shaft rubs my G-spot just right, my spelling goes awry and my punctuation falls apart. I am literally.typing.one.word.sentences. His fingers find my clit and as they move more rapidly, mine move ever more slowly on the keyboard, grinding to a halt as he presses down on my mound of Venus with the heel of his hand. It’s an irresistible combination for me — external pressure plus clitoral stimulation plus G-spot massage equals unstoppable orgasm.

He starts to slide in and out of me just a fraction. Any more would require my active participation in riding him, and spoil his fantasy scenario, so I let him do his thing and keep striking the keyboard in random sequences of letters that hopefully include a few actual words. We’re barely moving, but the steady, rhythmic force against my G-spot is building like a pressure cooker, sending erratic waves of quivering convulsions through me, until they boil over into another, much more intense orgasm.

The sensation of my creamed-up cunt clutching around his cock is too much for Tony, and he stands, tipping me onto my feet and bending me over the desk as he pulls halfway out and slams back in, hard.

I shove my laptop away, fingers of one hand still somehow connected to it as I pillow my face on my forearm and enjoy the ride. Grabbing my hips, Tony hammers into me with athletic enthusiasm, the rapid thrust and slide such a delicious contrast to the slow grind of the build up that a string of orgasmic rumbles soon triggers the big explosion, a climax that would rock me off my feet if I weren’t securely impaled on Tony’s driving dick.

My gasps and the fluttering grasp of my sugar walls are finally too much for him, and I feel each distinct pulse as his hot cum pumps into me, his cock buried deep.

“Your spelling is atrocious,” he says, pulling out and smearing streams of cum and pussy juice over my upturned ass cheeks.

So, as it turns out, I’m not too busy for sex after all… I’m just too busy to write about it.

More confessions from me here — if you think you can handle it! Maybe have a cold shower first…

Rose MyErotica

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