#yay finally

Mel is already on her stomach when Val shoves her down hard enough that the air leaves her lungs. Her cheek sinks into the pillow, her hands clutching at the sheets as Val spreads her open with both hands, thumbs pushing into the softest parts of her inner thighs, holding her wide.

Mel softly whines, her body trembling, rear high in the air. Val doesn’t tell her to stay still. She doesn’t have to. The first drag of Val’s tongue over her folds makes Mel’s entire body react, knees buckling, thighs shaking uncontrollably. She tries to hold herself up on her forearms, arms trembling under her weight, but she can’t because Val is eating her out like she’s trying to pull the orgasm straight out of her spine.

Mel collapses back into the sheets with a loud sigh, face buried in the pillow, hips arching back high, needing more tongue. Val groans against her, mouth slick, fingers digging into the soft cheeks as she buries her face deeper, licking just below her clit, messily tasting everything in a wild frenzy.

Mel is dripping- all wet pleasure mixing with Val's drool running down her thighs, pooling on the sheets beneath her. Every lick makes her twitch, every suck makes her gasp and bite down on the pillow. Val works her tongue in circles, then tightens her lips around Mel’s clit and suckles until Mel’s breath breaks into ragged, shaking little moans. It feels so good.

Then she stops. Mel almost whines when Val moves away. But then she feels it.

The thick, blunt tip of Val’s strap nudging her entrance. Wet from Val’s mouth. Wet from her own dripping lust. Val rubs it against her, she's teasing, pressing it in just enough to get Mel to choke on a whimper.

“Please,” Mel gasps into the pillow, lifting her hips high, offering herself without shame. “Please- please, Val-”

Val presses in slowly. Those ridges glide into her. The first stretch knocks the breath out of Mel’s lungs, a high, broken cry clawing out from her mouth. Her thighs quiver at the overwhelming sensation.  The burn is so perfect, so sweet, god, it's exactly what she needs at this moment.

Val grips her hips and pushes deeper, pleasurable waves creep down her legs, until Mel feels full to the point of shaking. She claws at the sheets, her body melting open around the thick silicone, her mind buzzing wildly, empty except for Val.

And then Val starts to fuck her. Hard.

So hard the bed frame creaks under the force, a faint beeping begins. It mixes in time with a low beep, beep, beep. Like an alarm.

Mel cries out, face still pressed to the pillow. Her whole body shakes with every thrust, her breasts rubbing against the sheets, her toes curling, the sounds coming out of her beyond language.

Beep, beep, beep

Val grips her hips and pulls her back onto the strap, over and over, groaning with each thrust, the heat of her body covering Mel completely. Mel feels her pleasure winding up, the feeling insane, unstoppable- her breath stuttering, vision going white with bliss.

Beep, beep, beep.

She doesn't come.

Mel wakes up with a gasp. Her sheets are twisted around her legs. Her underwear is hot and soaked. The throbbing between her legs is so loud and insistent, she squeezes her thighs together, moves her hips against the pillow, desperate for just a little more. Her breath is still shaking. Her thighs tremble, slick pooling everywhere she doesn’t want it.

She shoves her hand between her legs on instinct, rubbing fast, sharp circles over her panties, pressure hot on her clit. Her eyes flutter open into too-bright morning sunlight. She takes in the water on her stand, tissue box, and then, her heart drops, the clock.

She’s going to be late if she doesn't get up now. But she’s so horny she could cry.

Mel drops her head back, groaning at the ceiling, her body screaming for release she doesn’t have time for. Her hand presses harder, hips rocking once, needy and so desperate, but she yanks herself out of bed, legs weak, underwear clinging, her thighs still sticky and hot. Val’s voice still echoes in her ears.

Great. She’s useless and ruined before the day even starts. And she knows Val will make it worse.

Stumbling to the bathroom, she flicks on the shower, cranks it all the way to cold, hoping to kill some of the ache. She steps in, sucking air between her teeth, hands braced against the tile, letting the water bite at her skin. It doesn’t help, not really. No, the ache just turns into something mutable- simply there, just waiting for her to warm up again. She can still feel Val’s mouth, the phantom stretch of the strap, the taste of the dream lingering everywhere.

As she dries off and walks to her drawers, there’s a soreness between her legs, a bruise on her hip in the shape of Valentina’s hand. In the middle of her blurring thoughts, she can't help but think about the dismissal of yesterday. Of Val putting her back at arms length. She can't expel the disappointment right out of her. Of course she can't. It settles in the morning glow of the sun on her white walls. Burns into the cerebral of her mind.

Yesterday, she let Valentina fuck her in the back seat of the company car. She still can’t believe it happened. She’s replayed it a dozen times. The feeling of Val’s hand gripping her hips, the growl in her voice, the way she guided her up and down on her strap- it all dances in her memories.

But then- there's the after. When Val's hands were gently caressing her back. Letting her settle. None of her usual icy demeanor. Just a calm existence where it was just her and Val.

Then it ended.

Val fixed her hair, reapplied her lipstick on the way back. The car stopped and then they both went back inside like nothing happened. Mel even got Valentina tea, fingers still shaking.

All normal. But Mel’s new revelation presses against her skin, maneuvering in her bones, tapping on her chest. Her nerves are tired, too worn out. She knows what this is, what’s knocking deep in her ribs, and it terrifies her.

She likes Valentina. Not just wants her like yesterday but, genuinely, really, deeply- likes her. Badly.

Mel hurries through her routine, body buzzing, nerves stretched thin. She barely remembers her makeup, nearly forgets her ID badge. Everything feels off, tight, too bright, her clothes a little wrong, like nothing fits her right, like she's a schoolgirl who wants to impress the older girls. It's ridiculous. Stupid, maybe. She's a grown woman. And a crush shouldn't impede upon her daily routine.

But it does.

She grabs her bag and rushes out the door, hair still damp, heart pounding in her chest. The city morning is loud and unkind, sunlight slicing between buildings, the world going about its business while Mel’s insides are chaos.

By the time she steps into the high-rise lobby, her pulse has calmed but it picks right back up when she thinks about getting her boss's coffee. The elevator ride is too slow, the glass walls making her dizzy as the city drops away beneath her feet. Her reflection hovers beside her, blurred in the sunlight, mouth still parted from dreams she can’t shake.

Twenty-eighth floor. The office is as muted and cold as ever, covered in black glass, matte chrome, the city stretching out in every direction from the large windows, and the air's full of corporate jargon. Mel’s office sits beside Val’s, so close, she has to pass by everyday. Today she can see Val’s shadow through the opaque glass, already at her desk, working early.

Mel drops into her chair, slacks still feeling like it's riding wrong, pulse echoing in her ears. She types out her password, opens her inbox, pretends to be a person who didn't fuck her boss then have a sex dream about said boss.

But everything in the office reminds her of yesterday. When she brings her coffee she notices Val still has on that same dark ensemble of a black skirt and dark grey top. Every time Mel happens to glance up, Val is there, her presence impossible to ignore, her silhouette cutting against the city light.

She thinks about the sound Val made when she came, the sharp inhale in her voice every time she ground into her strap. Thinks about the bruise on her hip, the ache between her legs, the ache every time she looks at Valentina and can’t say a thing.

She’s haunted. Frustratingly restless, waiting for something, anything, to break.

And she knows it will.

The hours crawl by. Mel tries to focus- but everytime Val speaks to her, Mel jumps. Her cheeks flush, heating her up, causing her to pull at her collar. She catches herself staring at Val. The curve of her mouth, her throat, the way her blouse sits tight at her waist.

At lunch, Mel doesn’t eat. She just sits at the table, staring at the way sunlight pools across the tiled floor. Her stomach twists with a different kind of hunger. She props her chin on her fist, tuning out the voices of colleagues in the break room, letting her mind drift.

She thinks about yesterday. How Val broke the seal on the condom with her teeth like she's done it a thousand times, eyes never leaving Mel’s face. She squirms in the chair, barely chewing. Then she rolled the condom down the new pink strap. "Don’t worry, darling. I intend to fuck you safely.”

Her body thrums at the memory. She can still feel the phantom ache between her thighs, the blissful burn of grinding into Val, the stretch, the fullness, the sharp sweet sting of fingers gripping her hips. She remembers the taste of Val’s mouth, the sound of her heavy breathing.

She squeezes her thighs together under the table, heat blossoming in her chest. Her fingers tap her fork, craving another touch, something to anchor her to that memory.

It all feels impossibly close, like if she closes her eyes, she’ll still be there. Val’s soft hands guiding her up and down, her little pitchy moans, hot against her ear.

Mel swallows, throat tight, body alive with want. She tries to shake herself out of it, tossing her head back and forth. She needs to focus on her screen, her tasks, anything. But it’s hopeless. Every bit of sunlight, every passing shadow reminds her of the day before. 

Lunch ends, but Mel hasn’t touched half her food. She just sits there, dazed and hungry, mind replaying every second Val gave her.

Mel’s skin continues to prickle with memory, even after she tosses her food and walks back into her office. She tries to write a memo, but the words melt away into the memory of Val’s nails biting in, the blunt stretch deep inside her, the slow pull of the ridges coming out and in that turned Mel’s bones to water.

She shifts in her seat. Her thighs press tighter. This isn't working. She has to cross her legs. It’s a humiliating experience. Different from yesterday. Because at the time, all she needed was relief. And today isn't about relief because all she can think about is Val.

She answers an email wrong. Then fumbles a phone call. Val comes in to ask her a few questions. It's difficult to exist currently, now that she knows what her boss's naked body feels like. How she sounds.

Nothing is different. But everything is.

Then Val calls her in for a meeting. Mel stands too quickly, almost dizzy with frustrating need, and nearly collides with the doorframe.

Val doesn’t even blink. She just sighs, flips a page in her file. “Come on, Mel. I thought fucking you yesterday would at least clear your head.”

Mel flushes hard. The word fucking lands between them, large and unnecessarily mean. Her brain flashes back like flickering lights, Val’s mouth at her ear.

There’s a pause. Mel tries to collect herself, clutching her tablet like a lifeline, but her pulse is roaring in her ears. She stands in front of Val’s desk, exposed in an office widened by the large windows overlooking the city. The memory of Val inside her so sharp now that she's less than ten feet from her. For a moment, she wonders if Val can see her nerves by the way she’s trembling, could smell the want on her skin.

She can barely look at her, and it doesn't help that Val is perfect as usual, calm in her movements. Her pen gliding across the page, flickers of blinking eyelashes over the rims of her glasses. She doesn’t offer softness. Doesn’t even look up to smile. For Val, it might already be history she realizes. Business as usual. Which is unfortunate for Mel because it’s her entire day, the moment of them is stretched thin into the rising and falling of the sun.

The silence stings. Mel wants to speak, to joke, to reach for anything that might bridge the distance. But her voice stays locked in her throat. She fidgets where she stands, thumb lightly tapping her tablet. Outside of what they did, this is who they are to the world. A boss and her assistant. She’s reminded, cruelly, of the line they shouldn't have crossed.

But they did.

Val glances up, glasses on her nose. “Try not to embarrass me in front of clients today.”

The words are a final brush-off. That was it. Mel nods, her mouth dry, and escapes, leaving the office with conflicting feelings. Caught between two intense needs, one that's slick between her thighs, desperate for relief that won’t come and the need to ask Val what this all means now.

The rest of the day blurs with memory. The slap of skin in the car, Val’s lips at her throat, the sound she made right before she came, her soft hands. All of it echoes as she works, thumping heartbeat between her legs, a loud need.

At her desk, Mel presses her thighs together, fighting all the thoughts. But she can’t look at Val. Can’t stop thinking about the way she leaned back, invited her onto her lap. And, unashamedly, how she’d do anything, anything, to see Val do that again. Where it lasts longer.

The sun’s gone down by the time the last emails are sent. Mel lingers at her desk, waiting for… what? A look, a word, a hand at her wrist pulling her up like yesterday. Instead, Valentina steps out of her office, purse in hand, dark purple coat over one arm.

Her heels echo in time with the sudden uptick of her heart as she briskly walks around the desk. Stops in front of Mel. Time seems to slow as she reaches, the smell of her perfume fills the air. Val tilts her chin up with two fingers, she immediately straightens, unsure how to receive another whiplash. Merely blinking up at her. That purple strand tucked behind her ear. Face a little softer.

“Go home,” Val says, voice bored- a contrast to her expression. The next set of words sends adrenaline down her body. “Use that vibrator you mentioned.”

Mel frowns.

Val's nails softly scratch the bottom of her chin, "Oh, don't look at me like that. I don’t have time tonight. I may have time tomorrow. But not tonight.”

She leans down, face so close and for a moment she thinks Val will kiss her. Mel leans in, ready but this one little action only makes her boss smile.

Val leans in even closer, lips brushing Mel’s ear, her breath warm.

“When you get home, I want you on your back. Legs spread. Use two fingers at first, get yourself nice and wet. Then use that vibrator. Press it all the way in before fucking yourself. I want you to come for me, just like you did in the car. Picture my hand between your thighs, picture my mouth. And when you finish- you say my name. Capesh?”

Mel’s mouth parts, but no sound comes out. Her throat closes, voice lost to a rough, breathy gasp. All she can do is nod, dizzy and lightheaded, wetness already there between her legs, her whole body clenching just from the sound of Val’s voice in her ear.

Val chuckles, there's a smug smile like she knows exactly what she’s done. She pulls away, hand still under her chin.

“And tomorrow? Try not to embarrass yourself any further.”

She lets the moment linger- thumb rubbing softly on her chin. Then her touch is gone as she turns. Sharp heels clicking and fading down the hall, leaving Mel frozen, throat tight, heart thrashing in her chest.

A large part of her wants to feel angry. Maybe go after her but for what? Why?

She squirms in her chair. Knows the reason why. Quickly she shuts down her computer, grabs her coat and bag, and rushes out.

--

She barely remembers the journey home. Val’s voice on loop, use that vibrator, followed by her other orders. She’s already wet, and feels it all the way to her building's front door. The stairs are quicker and it doesn't help her breathing. The hallway feels long as her flats glide along the dark carpet. Finally, her door comes into view.

Quickly, she moves, unlocking it, throwing her keys into the bowl. Mel’s a mess by this point- she drops everything, nearly tearing her pants down in the hallway, stumbling into her bedroom in the dark. Her hands shake as she rips open her drawer, the vibrator almost slipping from sweaty fingers. She’s so wet her underwear clings, peels away with a sticky feeling. Her inner thighs shine with it.

She throws herself onto the bed, legs spread, body so, so needy.The red dildo is small and curved. She does as Val asks first. Two fingers circle her clit, the glorious pressure makes her moan. Finally, finally something to relieve her.

She decides she's wet enough before grabbing the vibrator and jamming it inside with a gasp. She's so tuned on to even use lube. Her cunt sucking it in with how wet she is, satiating the gnawing hunger. It's smooth, hard, the vibration turns on inside. The stretch burns, perfect, but it's not quite enough, not without the woman on a loop in her brain- but she fucks herself anyway, hips bucking up, the wet sound loud in the quiet room.

Her mind fractures into Val. Finally free to fully embrace those moments- her breath heavy in her ear- “You look so fucking beautiful like this. Don’t stop, darling. Keep going."

The slap of Val’s hips as Mel rode her, grinding down, whimpering, chasing the delicious friction. Oh and Val’s nails digging crescent moons into her hips, leaving bruises she’s still wearing now. “Look at you… So desperate all day, and now you’re taking what you want.”

Mel shoves the toy deeper, grinding her clit against the base, crying out. A filthy need filling her up, almost sobbing Val’s name. She can smell her still, everywhere- perfume, sweat, leather seats, sex. It lingers. She wants to crawl out of her own skin, wants Val to fill her, wants the strap they chose, maybe even her voice saying something against her ear, making her come.

She fucks herself faster, messier, the bed sheets crumple, her leaking arousal runs under, legs trembling as the orgasm builds, punching out rapid moans. She thinks of Val watching her, wonders if she'd look bored, maybe with one eyebrow raised, but then- there were those few moments yesterday- when Val lost it, groaning deep every now and then.

Mel moans Val's name as she slips over the edge into her orgasm, cunt spasming around the toy, so far in, her slick gushes out, soaking her hand, her thighs, the sheets. It feels so good, that insatiable scratch blurring between her legs. She can’t stop shaking. Her breath comes in broken gasps, pillow warm where she buries her face, muffling the sound.

She sits in the bliss. Throbbing around the vibrating dildo. She turns it off. It doesn't take long to crash back into her body.

The second it ebbs, the pleasure gone, Mel is empty. She pulls the toy out with a shudder, wetness dripping down her inner thighs. Her hand shakes, thighs still trembling, when she moves the slick of her orgasm sticks to her backside. The sheets need to be washed. It's this small detail that turns her bliss into something annoying.

She turns her face into the pillow, clutching it tight, face hot and likely red, the hollow ache flaring back tenfold. She wants Val. Needs her in such an intense way. Needs her weight, her mouth, her laugh, even her cold indifference.

Mel lies there, still faintly throbbing with need, lost in Valentina’s shadow. The room is silent except for her shaky breathing. She stays like that for a long time, wishing for sleep, for relief, for the woman who will never stay.

Then she decides she can't stay here forever. Mel rolls out of bed, out of the damp sheets. She walks into the adjoining bathroom. Turns on the bright lights, throws the toy in the bathroom sink and grabs a towel to wipe herself down with. The sheets are ruined with her wetness and she yanks them off, balled up, then tosses them into the laundry.

She shuffles into the kitchen, pulling on a white loose tee and clean underwear, skin humming with aftershocks. She’s starving and sick at the same time. The fridge light is harsh, groceries sparse, but she doesn’t care. All she needs is eggs and bread. Something for her stomach. She cooks in silence, the spatula stiff in her hand.

Everything she does is half a memory, on autopilot. The sharp scrape of her nails as she cracks an egg, and she thinks about the way her heart beats in her chest every time she sees Val now. The sizzle of oil in the pan is drowned by the echo of Val talking in the meeting. The breakfast made dinner is bland, tasteless and she realizes she forgot to use salt and pepper. She eats standing up, not really hungry, not even full, just lost in her thoughts.

She tries to focus on her routine- dishes, shower, skincare, packing her bag for tomorrow. She lets her mind dip into the easy steps, because it won’t quiet. Every minute- Val is there. The way she smelled in the elevator, the roughness of her voice when she ordered Mel to use that vibrator.

Mel brushes her teeth, stares into her own reflection, searching for a sign, a way to say it out loud. I want you. It’s all too much. It would be too much for Val, too. She's a woman who won’t give anything away, who takes what she wants and walks away perfectly unbothered. It's in her record. Mel wouldn't stand a chance.

She runs a brush through her hair, tries to picture it- just saying the words. Telling Val how she feels. The fantasy splits. Would Val smile before dismissing her? Or worse- Would if she laughed. That'd make her feel more alone than she is right now.

She tries to imagine a world where Val listens, lets her get close, even just a little. But it’s hard. Valentina is a fortress, all high walls and iron doors. Mel’s just her employee who let her boss and her own needs get in the way of professionalism.

She finishes cleaning up, turns down the bed with fresh sheets, taking the time to smooth every wrinkle out. The smell of fresh laundry and warmth calm on her hands. She sets out her clothes for tomorrow, already dreading the feeling that will start all over again the moment she sees Valentina in the office.

Then she clicks off the lights and settles under the covers, curls up small, hands between her knees. She closes her eyes, but Val is there- and it is so annoying. The odd ache, the want, the impossible hope that maybe, maybe she might be receptive. Or maybe that's just wishful thinking.