Damaged goods - Sex Stories

Damaged goods

... clicking of each measured step like tiny gunshots ricocheting from the walls. She squeezed through a gap into a storeroom of some description. Ryan approached and peeked in after her. Shafts of light cut through the holes in the brickwork and roof, casting half of her in shadow. "Come on, Mel, we shouldn't be here, this is trespassing." "Did you see the sign?" Ryan admitted he hadn't. "Then no problem, right? Thought you liked risk-takers." She stepped towards him, reached through the gap and yanked him inside. "I love this room. Think it was the manager's office or something back in the day." Ryan noted he had been wrong about the room's purpose. A huge solid wood desk dominated one wall. Odd that it hadn't been removed when they asset stripped the place, but as he got closer and ran his hand along its dry surface could see why. It was riddled with tiny holes. "Guess they didn't have Ronseal back then." Mel smiled and the furniture complained as she turned and perched against it, angelic as if the beam of light in which she stood had transported her from above. Ryan stood aloof at one end of the table. "You been here before then?" She nodded. "A good place to think. No distractions. A place time forgot. Kind of romantic in a way." Ryan stepped towards the centre of the room and turned, regarding the layer of dust on the table between Melody's manicured fingernails. She went on. "Can you imagine what it would have been like when this place was operational? A bustling ...

... workforce. The excitement of the industrial revolution still in its infancy. And the noise out there the perfect shield for workplace indiscretions to take place in here. Like the boss standing right where you are, the eager worker girl summoned to his office for a-" she traced one finger in the dust "-briefing." Ryan just watched her performance, silent save for his heart beating ever faster. He sensed she was already well on her way to the bottom. Vivre la descente. "She knows why she's really there, of course. She's not stupid. And inside she can't wait. The manager stands there, appraising her figure and tells her to leeeeean back like this-" she tipped her head back, traced her hands up her sides to just under her breasts and exhaled, "-the handsome boss biding his time, undressing her with his eyes." She ran her hands back down her hourglass. "And as the heat overwhelms her, she slides her dress up to reveal her panties… oops." She brought her hand to her face in a coy Betty Boop pose. "She doesn't appear to be wearing any." Ryan stood there, pulse quickening beyond what he thought possible at the glimpse of the neatly trimmed triangle before him, the convergence of which plunged between pliable thighs. But he showed no other outward signs of his elevated want. Decided to push her to see how far she'd go. A final challenge to make her his. "Uhhh, Mel, we should leave." "Melody Kramer to you," she scolded. "And I saw you looking up my dress earlier, you dirty man. You are just ...