The little whining noises she's making at the back of her throat are driving me insane. I want to touch her. I want to lean down and hold her flushed breasts in my hands, want to see if she gasps when I rub my thumbs over her nipples. But my hands stay on the footboard. That's one of her rules. We're coworkers, working on a project together. We're not friends, not exactly. Our relationship is playful sometimes, but I have a hard time reading her. There were times where I thought she might be flirting, but I wasn't sure. What she did this afternoon wasn't flirting. It was far more direct. I'd given her a ride home because her car was in the shop. Neither of us talked much on the way. It was a long day. When we got to her apartment she looked at me and said, as if it were the most normal thing, that she needed to get out of her head if she was going to make any progress tomorrow. A good fucking usually did that, in her opinion. Was I interested? That's how we wound up here, in her bed. Well, she's on her bed (on her back). I'm standing at the foot of the bead, grasping the top of the footboard as I thrust into her. Her pussy is so tight and so wet and so creamy. I wonder if she's ovulating. I had an ex whose slick would get really thick and creamy when she was ovulating. She must be on the pill. At least, I hope so, considering she told me we didn't need a condom. I'm too far gone to care now, when she's clenching around me and making those noises. Her groans make her whole body vibrate around my cock and I have to focus to keep from cumming before she does.