Night shift - Sex Stories

Night shift

Once again it was night and she was alone. The office was sinking into darkness the color of ink. The only thing that was disrupting it was the twinkling screen of her laptop. A thick fog was covering the windows and the moonlight could hardly break through the smoke black clouds. The moon beams were casting peculiar shadows on the floor. However, the young lady who was supporting herself on her elbow over the comfortable couch couldn't care less about them. All one could see of her was her obscure, long and shady silhouette – long hair, long legs and fragrant cigarette smoke. Recently she had developed the habit of satisfying her nicotine addiction by rolling her own cigarettes. She was already hooked on cherry flavored tobacco and carried that compelling scent everywhere she was going, even when she wasn't smoking. It was interwoven with the thread of her clothes, stuck to her eyelids and her eyelashes. It was following her everywhere she went. A specific kind of drug. She was passing that addiction to everyone she touched with her tongue that tasted like fruits. The bittersweet saliva was spilling in a lustful way down her lips. Nevertheless, right now she was most certainly not in the mood for cigarettes. She closed her eyes and let the darkness take complete control over her senses. She could reach out and illuminate the space around her with the tedious fluorescent light whenever she pleased. But what for? Everything is much sexier in the dark. She doubted that there ...

... was someone awake after midnight at the neighboring residential building. They switched the last lights off about an hour ago. Still she wasn't burning with desire to have some late insomniac person observe her in her disheveled state as she had remained in that lingerie "for special occasions". With her hand shamelessly shoved into the transparent, damp panties. She tossed her head back and rested it on top of the soft pillows arranged on the floor. When the woman stretched her white neck and removed her hair the white flesh was accentuated was highlighted by the darkness at the room. She licked her lips and bit them lightly. Then her fingers deprived the cigarette of its last moments of life and trampled it down at the ashtray. She ran her available hand across the veil of her mane and used the other one to explore how deep her greedy vagina could be. Some people were amazed at the eagerness with which she was ready to take the night shifts. They presented their reasonable arguments before her as cleverly aligned chest figures over the black and white board of daily life. You lose your normal sleeping rhythm. Your biological watch falls into a strange state of schizophrenia. Nothing could replace the night hours of sleep. She would smile and ask them if the nighttime sleeping could possibly make up for the daytime vexation. Can you allow yourself to relax in such a way during the light of the day, even if you're locked behind the thick door of a private office. Can you really ...