Although he had been the one to issue the ultimatum, Parson was shaking a little as he entered the seldom-visited equipment room. It was the very same room Dontae had mentioned in the first story he’d read. There was not a lot a space to maneuver, but there was a table against the back wall, about waist high. Looking at it now, it was impossible not to imagine Dontae spread open for him there. Soon she would be. How strange a day that’d started out like any other had twisted and turned, bringing him the opportunity of a lifetime. He was bound and determined to make it count.
Glancing at his watch, he noted she had a little less than a minute to show. Would she? What would he do if she didn’t? The answer wasn’t really forthcoming, but he wasn’t going to ignore this thing between them. So much wasted time believing the other person wasn’t interested. Perhaps it was his fault. Maybe if he had pushed a little more, been a little more forthright. But then, he had a feeling Dontae would’ve run from that. In the end, maybe this was better. Now there was no doubt they wanted each other, and from what he had read, Parson was sure they were compatible.
Because the door only opened with a key, Parson heard Dontae long before the door pushed slowly open. She hesitated a little before stepping through, looking over her shoulder as she did so. There was no point in locking the door; the only way a person could get in was to have a key, and there were only two keys. He had a set as a section leader and the other hung in the main office, which Dontae had used to come in. Parson had to smile at that. She’d considered that when she wrote out her little fantasy, no doubt.
“You’re thirty seconds late.” Parson wasn’t really upset about it. However, he had been scared she might run. Now here she was, nervousness etched plainly on her face.
Parson wasn't sure whether it was fear or uncertainty that kept her hovering by the door as if she might dash at any moment. While she played with the hem of her sweater, there was still underlying heat in her hesitant gazes in his direction.
“Are you going to keep me waiting?” It was pushing, but he was sure she needed that.
“I’m not sure about this.” Dontae looked at him, down to the floor, then back at him. “Why are you doing this?”
He didn't answer. Wouldn’t. He could show her a hell of a lot better than he could tell her. Stalking to her until his body had pressed hers against the door, he grasped her hand and placed it on rock-hard proof of how badly he wanted her.
“This has lasted for three long fucking years, and it has been all for you.” He was growling, but fuck if he could help it. His cock pulsed with hunger, wanting her, needing her. Brushing his lips against the soft cushions of hers, Parson breathed her in. Whatever the hell perfume she wore was light, clean. Not overly floral or sickeningly sweet like so many women favored. The way she smelled made him ravenous. “Do you have any idea what finding out you have been hiding your true self from me is doing to me right now?” As he had wanted to do for so long, Parson took advantage of her stunned silence to move back, just a hair, but only to strip that goddamn bulky sweater from her. Her clothing fucking offended him. Everything keeping her from him offended him.
And just as he had long suspected, underneath all those clothes she liked to wear, she was stunning. Although the overly voluminous skirt still shrouded the lower half of her body, the top made his knees damn near buckle. Underneath the most conservative packaging, Dontae wore a lacy push-up bra pressing her breasts up to almost overflow the delicate cups. The crescent-shaped tops of her areolas were clearly visible, her nipples standing tall and pressing out against the fabric trying to contain them.
Parson sucked in a harsh gulp of air as his hands cupped them, his fingers rolling the puckered nubbins between his fingers. As Dontae’s mouth opened, Parson lowered his own to take the kiss he had been dying for. She offered no resistance as he took her mouth ruthlessly, demanding entry, which she gave without a fight. The moment of her surrender was tangible, the way her body melted against him at first contact. Unabashedly Donate rocked against him as he lifted her against the wall. There was too much fabric between them, damn it. He wanted to feel her, all of her. Gathering yards of material from her hated skirt, he lifted it out of the way to bunch around her waist. There! That was what he wanted to feel. Reaching down between them, Parson groaned against her lips when he found the crotch of her panties hot and wet for him. Dontae wrapped her legs around his waist, welcoming him between her thighs. There was nothing he could do to stop his hips from grinding into her, letting her sweetness soak through his jeans. He felt the wet spot growing on his own crotch, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was the here and now.
His arms snaked around her waist as he lifted her away from the wall to the workstation against the back wall. Perching on the edge, Parson yanked the skirt, then the panties down and away. Dropping down so that he was face to face with her sweetness, he had to fight not to plunge inside her without delay. Oh God, that had to be the most beautiful pussy in the world. Neatly trimmed, the skin reminded him of a decadent truffle on the outside, all bright pink and beckoning on the inside. Spreading the lips of her labia, he ran the flat of his tongue against the entire length. Her sweet honey flavor burst on his tongue, eliciting another belly-deep groan. Fuck, she tasted so damn good! It was addicting; he knew he would never get enough of the way she tasted, the way she groaned and rolled her hips against his face. Parson drove his tongue deep inside her as far as he could, thrusting in and out, then moving quickly upwards to swirl her clit before sucking it between his lips.