Endear You to Me, Ch. 30
Title: Endear You To Me
Part: 30 of many
Fandom, Pairin The Closer, Brenda/Sharon
Rating: M
Summary: It's all the moments in between that endear you to me.
Note: Promotion part 2. Sex ahoy.
The lobby of HQ was bustling at 10 pm on this Friday night; a knot of uniforms wrestled a trio of struggling, handcuffed men through the doors that led to holding, and Brenda noticed Sharon’s eyes flick to the spectacle, though she said nothing. When, on their way home from Sharon’s favorite sushi place, Brenda had suggested a stopover at work for a surprise, Sharon had also said nothing, merely favoring Brenda with a slightly suspicious look before steering the Jag into the turn lane that would take them further downtown.
Aside from a nod from the desk sergeant, no one paid them any mind as they clicked across the open space and into the elevator bay. Brenda leaned in to press the button to call a car, observing out of the corner of her eye as Sharon watched the steady, downward progression of the lights across the display above the door. She looked gorgeous tonight; sophisticated, confident and elegantly simple in wide-legged black trousers and a drapey, off the shoulder sweater of a midnight blue. Brenda liked that it exposed an asymmetrical piece of Sharon’s neck and back, two of many places Brenda was very fond of pressing her lips to frequently and with reverence. After two glasses of wine (Sharon hadn’t wanted any, though Brenda had offered to drive), Brenda felt full to the brim of well-being, and was more than a little aroused, standing so close to the sleek warmth of her fiancé. She shifted her feet, pressing her thighs together, hoping that what she was feeling wasn’t completely obvious to all and sundry, or to Sharon.
When the doors slid open, they stepped into the elevator together, Brenda pushing the button for the tenth floor, where Sharon’s new office was located. The head of IA and the two commanders under her direct supervision shared a suite of offices with their own administrative assistant. Although Brenda had gleefully exploited the administrative assistant’s rather impressive ditziness in setting up this surprise for Sharon, she felt a little sorry for the woman; ever the professional, Sharon didn’t handle incompetence or chattiness particularly well, and Jane (said assistant) was very chatty and even more disorganized than Brenda.
“I cannot believe I let you drag me back here on a Friday night,” Sharon groused as they made their way through the eerily silent halls of the administrative floor.
“Oh, hush. Like you’d even come if you didn’t think it would be worth your while,” Brenda contradicted with a smile, grabbing Sharon’s hand and tugging playfully on it. Sharon replied with a smirk; sometimes a little complaint was totally worth her while, because Brenda in placation-mode was completely adorable.
Discreetly, Brenda locked both the door to the office suite and Sharon’s door behind them as they entered. She ignored Sharon’s expectant stance and cocked head, and slipped around her to open a cabinet in the large bookshelf and remove a gift bag.
“Another present? Brenda Leigh,” protested Sharon, “the flowers and dinner were more than enough.” But as much as Sharon didn’t enjoy public acclaim or attention called to her accomplishments, here, one on one with Brenda, who loved her and was proud of her, she was pleasantly flustered at the thought given to the plans Brenda had made.
Earlier in the afternoon an arrangement á la Brenda Leigh Johnson had arrived at the office suite. The administrative assistant, Jane, had brought the vase into Sharon, who was unpacking the few boxes she had carted up from her old office in FID. It had been clear that Jane was curious about the flowers, going so far as to hover, as if she thought Sharon would read the card aloud and the two of them would giggle and be pals. Sharon had dismissed her with a polite ‘thank you’ and a level look, and had waited for the rather nosy young woman to leave.
In a regular vase this time (unlike the beautiful blue glass pitcher that had pride of place on one of Sharon’s new shelves), the blossoms were creamy orange and mauve with the unmistakeable lily of the valley dotted throughout. The card was simple, and not in Brenda’s hand writing. It read: Gladiolus, camellia, lily of the valley. Love, B.
The text was like a stanza of poetry, stripped down to its most basic elements and only translatable by someone who possessed the key, which Sharon did. Unfortunately, her computer had not made the move with her (she was due a new one sometime on Monday), so Sharon was left to Google on her Blackberry. Armed with a scrap of paper and a pen, Sharon had fashioned a message out of Brenda’s flowers: strength of character and faithfulness, you are a flame in my heart, I am incomplete without you.
Reminiscent of the first time she had received flowers from Brenda Leigh, and with no real work clamoring for her attention, Sharon had taken the time to sit for a bit in the slightly dim isolation of her office and revel in the fact that she was loved.
Sharon took the gift bag from Brenda and placed it on the desk, giving the other woman an flirtatious glare.
“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything else, honey,” Sharon chided, already removing the top layer of tissue paper from the bag.
“It’s nothin’ big, I promise, just somethin’ I thought would look nice in here, is all.” And a little something extra that Brenda had tucked underneath the actual gift, hoping that Sharon would be willing to play along with her in the deserted office suite.
Out of the bag, Sharon pulled a handsome trifold picture frame. It was antiqued wood, a bit weathered, and Sharon unfolded it to find there were no pictures in it. She gave Brenda a strange look; not that she could display any pictures of the two of them right now, but she would have liked to have some.
“I know there are no pictures in it,” Brenda acknowledged, “but turn it over.” Sharon did, and in the back of the panels, there were three glass squares. Two of them had pressed flowers in them - a honeysuckle bloom and a sprig of lily of the valley. The third was empty.
“Are these from…” She trailed a finger across the little piece of glass.
“From the other arrangements, yea. I have a gladiolus from the one from today dryin’ in the phonebook in my office. It’ll be ready in a week or so.”
“This is beautiful, Brenda Leigh,” Sharon breathed. “Who knew you were such a romantic.” And it was romantic; a symbolic progression of their relationship that Sharon could keep on her desk in plain view. And eventually, Sharon could fill the frames with pictures of the two of them and turn the symbolic into something she displayed openly.
“‘Course I am!” Brenda exclaimed, then her expression grew sly, and she grasped Sharon’s wrist and squeezed gently. “There’s something else for you in that bag.”
Sharon narrowed her eyes at Brenda, but plunged her hand to the bottom of the gift bag. Her jaw dropped in surprise when she felt what comprised the final part of her gift from Brenda Leigh. Fighting down a laugh, Sharon schooled her face into exaggerated sternness and drew the offending object out with a facade of gravitas.
“Really?” Sharon asked, the strapless dildo bobbing self-importantly in her hand.
“Well,” Brenda hedged, “I thought we could christen your new office the right way!”
“Christen my office?” Sharon proclaimed. “What about your office? We’ve spent a lot more time in there.”
“I work in a glass bubble on an open floor, Sharon.”
“You have a point.”
“So are you interested?” Brenda looked at Sharon with hooded eyes, and stepped closer to the other woman, reaching out to cup her hip.
Sharon hummed in consideration. “What, exactly, is on offer tonight?” She asked, waggling the dick she was still, improbably, holding.
“Welllll, what’re you up for? We don’t have to use the toy - I only included it for some flavor.”
Sharon cocked her head and gave Brenda an appraising look. Brenda wouldn’t have brought the toy if it hadn’t been on her mind - and knowing the other woman’s prodigious imagination, whatever she’d dreamed up involving the dick, it was probably worth sharing.
“Brenda Leigh,” Sharon husked, hoping to prompt Brenda into telling her the truth.
“I just…the last time we used it was incredible,” the blonde said breathlessly. And that was the truth. Sharon had lucked into a toy that hit them both in exactly the right spots and had, surprisingly, thought to tuck the toy in their suitcase when they went to Santa Cruz for Thanksgiving.
In the nighttime hush of her parents’ house, as she had moved above a panting, whimpering Brenda, the bulb-end of the strapless cock pulled against Sharon in a delicious manner, to the point where she had had trouble concentrating on Brenda’s pleasure. And apparently the length and girth (a little shorter and girthier than their strap on) was precisely what Brenda wanted in a penetrative object, because simple missionary position sex had turned into something, as Brenda had said, incredible.
Dragging her mind out of the past, warmth bloomed in Sharon’s belly and coursed through her bloodstream. She shot Brenda a heated look and the other woman let out a breath of anticipation, then stepped into Sharon, bringing their bodies into contact from knee to breast, trapping the toy between them.
“So you wanna, baby,” Brenda asked, her words puffing across Sharon’s lips.
“I think that maybe we can come to some sort of accord,” mused Sharon teasingly, slanting her lips across Brenda’s for a soft, lipstick flavored kiss. Brenda whimpered, pressing even closer, her hands fisting in Sharon’s sweater, hips shifting restlessly against Sharon’s.
Sharon focused intently on these kisses, using her mouth to make Brenda sigh and melt against her. It wasn’t easy to not do the same, to keep them both upright and not lean back against the desk, but if they were going to do this one of them needed to keep at least a little cool.
“Oh,” Brenda moaned, wrenching her lips away. “Please, Sharon. Please.” She looked up at Sharon, her eyes hazed over with want, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, lipstick all kissed away.
Sharon pivoted them swiftly, then used pressure on Brenda’s hips to spin her. With sure hands, she bent the blonde over the front of the mostly bare desk, then flipped the skirt of Brenda’s dress over her hips to expose her very bare ass.
At the sight of Brenda Leigh, exposed and shamelessly needy, all the air rushed out of Sharon’s lungs in a ‘woosh’ - the wily, imaginative Chief was capable of surprising her over and over again.
“No panties, Brenda Leigh?” She enquired in what she hoped was a steady tone.
“I took ‘em off in the restaurant,” replied Brenda, her voice trembling just as her thighs were, with a need she was trying to keep a hold of.
“Reach down and spread your lips for me - show me how wet you are,” Sharon heard herself order, the thought rolling off her lips before higher order brain function could intervene. Brenda did as she had asked; insinuating a had between herself and the desk and using her fingers to part the lips of her pussy. Fingers glistening with arousal, Brenda fought to keep from seeking contact for her clit on the palm of her hand; Sharon could see the struggle - every muscle in Brenda’s legs was taut and quivering. Moaning, Brenda’s hips jolted once, back towards Sharon.
“Please,” she entreated. “Please, Sharon.”
Holding the dildo by the bulb end, Sharon stepped up behind Brenda, placing one hand on one smooth, warm, trembling buttock, and using the other to drag the fat head of the cock up Brenda’s slit, still held open by her fingers.
“Oh,” she exhaled, then inhaled a shaky breath. “Oh.” She spread her legs farther, tilting her pelvis up, seeking the toy out. Continuing to tease Brenda with just the tip of the cock, Sharon bit back a groan. She could smell Brenda - salt and the musky tang of female desire - and all she wanted to do was get on her knees and have a taste of all that arousal that was just for her. But she didn’t. Instead, she finally parted Brenda and sheathed the toy in her ever so slowly, watching as the other woman’s pussy stretched to accept its girth, listening to her throaty pants, feeling the burn of Brenda’s skin beneath her palm and the sharp tingle of her own want between her legs. Once the toy had sunk in to its hilt, sweaty palmed, Sharon used the bulb to draw it back out at that same unhurried pace. A few more leisurely strokes, and she took her hands away, leaving the toy sheathed in Brenda, who gave a distressed little grunt.
“Hold on to that for me for a sec, honey.” Sharon whipped her sweater over her head, dropping it on to one of the guest chairs in front of her desk. The flushed skin of her bared chest cooled rapidly without the garment and goosebumps pricked up on her arms, but a little chill was much preferable to the thought of vigorous sex in a heavy wool sweater.
Brenda shifted her lower body and tried to crane her head around enough to see what Sharon was doing. “Sharon,” she protested, sounding a bit put out.
“Just a second,” Sharon soothed, unfastening her pants and pushing them down to her ankles. Her panties followed. “Just a second.”
Though she was feeling a bit unsteady on her legs, Sharon moved quickly; sliding the thoroughly soaked dildo from Brenda’s pussy (much to Brenda’s vocal displeasure), parting her own warm, wet lips and slipping the bulb end of the toy inside herself, hissing at the penetration. Awkwardly yoked by the clothing around her ankles, she got into position behind Brenda, between her spread legs, and guided the dick home in one fluid motion, pausing at the end of her stroke. Brenda pushed back against her and wriggled in aroused enthusiasm.
Feeling oddly constrained by the position and by the puddle of clothing tangling her feet, Sharon set a steady pace, not wanting to tease Brenda anymore, using her hands on the blonde’s slim hips to give herself a little leverage.
Brenda, meeting Sharon’s every thrust eagerly, loving the scratch of Sharon’s curls against her ass, and the feel of Sharon’s fingers digging into her hips, and the persistent stretch of dick that Sharon was pleasuring her with, was a bit disappointed. Apparently their perfect toy was less perfect in this position - she had no friction on or access to her clit, and there was no delicious drag of the cock’s head against her inner walls like there had been before. And maybe, when it came to sex with Sharon, Brenda was less enamored of doggy style in general. In their bed at home, perhaps, but right now, she couldn’t see or touch Sharon and that was less than appealing. She sighed gustily and Sharon hesitated mid-stroke, then stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Sharon asked, running her fingers along the skin of Brenda’s back, up and under her dress, to skim along her ribcage and pluck at the band of her bra.
“That’s what’s wrong,” answered Brenda answered vaguely. “Not enough contact.” She arched under Sharon’s hands for emphasis.
Sharon chuckled - she had been feeling the same way, but if Brenda was enjoying being bent over the desk, she would have seen it through till the other woman came. She shuffled back a step, the dildo falling from between Brenda’s legs with a faint slurp.
“Oh, good lord,” Brenda murmured.
“Turn around, honey.”
Brenda stood and turned, gathering her dress in one arm to keep it out of the way and propped herself on the edge of the desk, her legs spread for Sharon, exposing the damp patch of dark blonde curls at her apex and the slightly pouting lips below. Sharon stepped back into place, Brenda guiding the cock back where she wanted it. She sighed, with pleasure this time, and clasped Sharon to her, arms sliding under Sharon’s and fingers clutching at the skin of Sharon’s bare back.
Clinched tightly to Brenda, Sharon used short strokes to chase Brenda to the edge of her orgasm, enjoying the tug of the dildo on that sensitive spot in her pussy, Brenda Leigh’s labored breathing against her neck, and the scent of sweat and sex heavy in her nostrils. She hummed her satisfaction softly in Brenda’s ear.
“This is much better,” Brenda agreed, her voice muffled by the curtain of Sharon’s hair, and they rocked together until Brenda hunched her back a bit, wormed a hand in between them to stroke her clit firmly.
“Fuck, Shari!” She gasped, and then came, pressing her face into Sharon’s chest, and curling her legs around the backs of Sharon’s thighs. Sharon fucked her through the orgasm, only stopping when the blonde slumped bonelessly against her. Brenda giggled; her orgasm had made her giddy and effusive and she wanted to do the same for Sharon, but she allowed herself a few long moments to enjoy her afterglow, wrapped in Sharon’s arms.
When Sharon’s hips shifted, causing the dick still inside Brenda to bump up against a still deliciously sensitive spot, Brenda pulled back a bit. Now was not the time to go for secondsies with the dildo.
“Alright, then,” she pronounced. “Your turn now, baby.” She grasped Sharon’s hips and pushed back gently in the direction of a chair. The brunette stumbled a bit, but managed to keep her feet and collapse into the chair, the plastic penis bobbing ludicrously in her crotch like some sort of divining rod.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Brenda murmured, and knelt to divest Sharon of shoes and clothing.
“Aren’t we sort of tempting fate here, Brenda Leigh,” protested Sharon, albeit, half-heartedly. It was hard to think logically with gleaming eyed woman on her knees between her legs, looking at her like she was dessert. Brenda paused and looked up at Sharon from under the inky sweep of her eyelashes.
“Don’t you wanna come, Shari?”
“What I don’t want is to get caught having sex in my office,” Sharon managed to say, despite the fact that she was responding to Brenda’s physical cues to scoot forward and spread her legs more. Brenda rolled her eyes at Sharon, then focused her attention on the cock standing at attention amidst Sharon’s curls.
“Hush now,” she said, and licked her lips. She leaned in, looking up at Sharon again, the most devilish smirk Sharon had ever seen playing on her lips. The pink tip of her tongue peeking out, she winked, then swirled her tongue around the head of the toy, and moaned. She broke eye contact and took the head into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks, and then releasing it with a pop.
“Jesus, Brenda,” Sharon groaned, her toes curling, she clutched at the arms of the chair to keep from burying her hands in Brenda’s hair. She felt a hand between her legs, keeping the toy steady and providing pressure on the bulb inside of her. Her hips bucked. Brenda chuckled and slung an arm across Sharon’s hips to control her movements.
With long, slow strokes of her tongue, Brenda cleaned every bit of her arousal off the shaft of the fake dick, pausing occasionally to lick her lips and grin up at Sharon, who was wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Noticing Sharon’s white knuckled grip on the chair, she said: “’S okay, you can put your hands on my head,” then went back to work, taking the toy in her mouth and using suction to pull upwards against Sharon’s g-spot. Sharon took Brenda at her word, using her hands to lift Brenda’s hair up and back so it wouldn’t get in her way.
The toy clean, and Sharon panting and desperate after the little show, Brenda popped her mouth off the toy for the last time, and grasped the shaft firmly. Sitting back on her heels, face screwed up in concentration, she gave the toy a firm tug upwards, making sure to keep pressure on bulb so it hit Sharon properly. On the down stroke, she made sure to bump the base of the shaft against Sharon’s clit.
Already on edge from the stimulation overload, it was with a pleasant sort of disbelief that Sharon realized Brenda was going to get her off with a hand job. She moaned.
“Good, baby?” Brenda asked, still intently focused on the rhythm of her hand on the cock and her hand between Sharon’s legs.
“Ohmigod,” Sharon managed to grunt. “Don’t stop.” If her eyes hadn’t slammed shut at the stirrings of her impending orgasm, Sharon would have seen Brenda cast another eye-roll her way.
Sharon came with a wail, her back arching away from the chair, hands back to clutching at the arms of the chair. Brenda hoped to god there wasn’t anyone on this floor, dropping kisses on the quivering muscles of Sharon’s thighs. She rose up on her knees, and Sharon fell forward against her.
“That was wonderful,” she whispered fondly, wrapping her arms around Brenda and resting her cheek on Brenda’s blonde head.
Brenda hummed in reply, smug and happy, listening to the rapid beat of Sharon’s heart calm itself. Sharon shivered in her arms. “Let’s get cleaned up, and get you dressed.”
“I don’t think I can move,” Sharon whined, but she managed it.
They made themselves presentable, and left the suite hand-in-hand, entwined fingers pulling apart only when the elevator bumped to a stop back in the lobby.
Part: 30 of many
Fandom, Pairin The Closer, Brenda/Sharon
Rating: M
Summary: It's all the moments in between that endear you to me.
Note: Promotion part 2. Sex ahoy.
The lobby of HQ was bustling at 10 pm on this Friday night; a knot of uniforms wrestled a trio of struggling, handcuffed men through the doors that led to holding, and Brenda noticed Sharon’s eyes flick to the spectacle, though she said nothing. When, on their way home from Sharon’s favorite sushi place, Brenda had suggested a stopover at work for a surprise, Sharon had also said nothing, merely favoring Brenda with a slightly suspicious look before steering the Jag into the turn lane that would take them further downtown.
Aside from a nod from the desk sergeant, no one paid them any mind as they clicked across the open space and into the elevator bay. Brenda leaned in to press the button to call a car, observing out of the corner of her eye as Sharon watched the steady, downward progression of the lights across the display above the door. She looked gorgeous tonight; sophisticated, confident and elegantly simple in wide-legged black trousers and a drapey, off the shoulder sweater of a midnight blue. Brenda liked that it exposed an asymmetrical piece of Sharon’s neck and back, two of many places Brenda was very fond of pressing her lips to frequently and with reverence. After two glasses of wine (Sharon hadn’t wanted any, though Brenda had offered to drive), Brenda felt full to the brim of well-being, and was more than a little aroused, standing so close to the sleek warmth of her fiancé. She shifted her feet, pressing her thighs together, hoping that what she was feeling wasn’t completely obvious to all and sundry, or to Sharon.
When the doors slid open, they stepped into the elevator together, Brenda pushing the button for the tenth floor, where Sharon’s new office was located. The head of IA and the two commanders under her direct supervision shared a suite of offices with their own administrative assistant. Although Brenda had gleefully exploited the administrative assistant’s rather impressive ditziness in setting up this surprise for Sharon, she felt a little sorry for the woman; ever the professional, Sharon didn’t handle incompetence or chattiness particularly well, and Jane (said assistant) was very chatty and even more disorganized than Brenda.
“I cannot believe I let you drag me back here on a Friday night,” Sharon groused as they made their way through the eerily silent halls of the administrative floor.
“Oh, hush. Like you’d even come if you didn’t think it would be worth your while,” Brenda contradicted with a smile, grabbing Sharon’s hand and tugging playfully on it. Sharon replied with a smirk; sometimes a little complaint was totally worth her while, because Brenda in placation-mode was completely adorable.
Discreetly, Brenda locked both the door to the office suite and Sharon’s door behind them as they entered. She ignored Sharon’s expectant stance and cocked head, and slipped around her to open a cabinet in the large bookshelf and remove a gift bag.
“Another present? Brenda Leigh,” protested Sharon, “the flowers and dinner were more than enough.” But as much as Sharon didn’t enjoy public acclaim or attention called to her accomplishments, here, one on one with Brenda, who loved her and was proud of her, she was pleasantly flustered at the thought given to the plans Brenda had made.
Earlier in the afternoon an arrangement á la Brenda Leigh Johnson had arrived at the office suite. The administrative assistant, Jane, had brought the vase into Sharon, who was unpacking the few boxes she had carted up from her old office in FID. It had been clear that Jane was curious about the flowers, going so far as to hover, as if she thought Sharon would read the card aloud and the two of them would giggle and be pals. Sharon had dismissed her with a polite ‘thank you’ and a level look, and had waited for the rather nosy young woman to leave.
In a regular vase this time (unlike the beautiful blue glass pitcher that had pride of place on one of Sharon’s new shelves), the blossoms were creamy orange and mauve with the unmistakeable lily of the valley dotted throughout. The card was simple, and not in Brenda’s hand writing. It read: Gladiolus, camellia, lily of the valley. Love, B.
The text was like a stanza of poetry, stripped down to its most basic elements and only translatable by someone who possessed the key, which Sharon did. Unfortunately, her computer had not made the move with her (she was due a new one sometime on Monday), so Sharon was left to Google on her Blackberry. Armed with a scrap of paper and a pen, Sharon had fashioned a message out of Brenda’s flowers: strength of character and faithfulness, you are a flame in my heart, I am incomplete without you.
Reminiscent of the first time she had received flowers from Brenda Leigh, and with no real work clamoring for her attention, Sharon had taken the time to sit for a bit in the slightly dim isolation of her office and revel in the fact that she was loved.
Sharon took the gift bag from Brenda and placed it on the desk, giving the other woman an flirtatious glare.
“You shouldn’t have gotten me anything else, honey,” Sharon chided, already removing the top layer of tissue paper from the bag.
“It’s nothin’ big, I promise, just somethin’ I thought would look nice in here, is all.” And a little something extra that Brenda had tucked underneath the actual gift, hoping that Sharon would be willing to play along with her in the deserted office suite.
Out of the bag, Sharon pulled a handsome trifold picture frame. It was antiqued wood, a bit weathered, and Sharon unfolded it to find there were no pictures in it. She gave Brenda a strange look; not that she could display any pictures of the two of them right now, but she would have liked to have some.
“I know there are no pictures in it,” Brenda acknowledged, “but turn it over.” Sharon did, and in the back of the panels, there were three glass squares. Two of them had pressed flowers in them - a honeysuckle bloom and a sprig of lily of the valley. The third was empty.
“Are these from…” She trailed a finger across the little piece of glass.
“From the other arrangements, yea. I have a gladiolus from the one from today dryin’ in the phonebook in my office. It’ll be ready in a week or so.”
“This is beautiful, Brenda Leigh,” Sharon breathed. “Who knew you were such a romantic.” And it was romantic; a symbolic progression of their relationship that Sharon could keep on her desk in plain view. And eventually, Sharon could fill the frames with pictures of the two of them and turn the symbolic into something she displayed openly.
“‘Course I am!” Brenda exclaimed, then her expression grew sly, and she grasped Sharon’s wrist and squeezed gently. “There’s something else for you in that bag.”
Sharon narrowed her eyes at Brenda, but plunged her hand to the bottom of the gift bag. Her jaw dropped in surprise when she felt what comprised the final part of her gift from Brenda Leigh. Fighting down a laugh, Sharon schooled her face into exaggerated sternness and drew the offending object out with a facade of gravitas.
“Really?” Sharon asked, the strapless dildo bobbing self-importantly in her hand.
“Well,” Brenda hedged, “I thought we could christen your new office the right way!”
“Christen my office?” Sharon proclaimed. “What about your office? We’ve spent a lot more time in there.”
“I work in a glass bubble on an open floor, Sharon.”
“You have a point.”
“So are you interested?” Brenda looked at Sharon with hooded eyes, and stepped closer to the other woman, reaching out to cup her hip.
Sharon hummed in consideration. “What, exactly, is on offer tonight?” She asked, waggling the dick she was still, improbably, holding.
“Welllll, what’re you up for? We don’t have to use the toy - I only included it for some flavor.”
Sharon cocked her head and gave Brenda an appraising look. Brenda wouldn’t have brought the toy if it hadn’t been on her mind - and knowing the other woman’s prodigious imagination, whatever she’d dreamed up involving the dick, it was probably worth sharing.
“Brenda Leigh,” Sharon husked, hoping to prompt Brenda into telling her the truth.
“I just…the last time we used it was incredible,” the blonde said breathlessly. And that was the truth. Sharon had lucked into a toy that hit them both in exactly the right spots and had, surprisingly, thought to tuck the toy in their suitcase when they went to Santa Cruz for Thanksgiving.
In the nighttime hush of her parents’ house, as she had moved above a panting, whimpering Brenda, the bulb-end of the strapless cock pulled against Sharon in a delicious manner, to the point where she had had trouble concentrating on Brenda’s pleasure. And apparently the length and girth (a little shorter and girthier than their strap on) was precisely what Brenda wanted in a penetrative object, because simple missionary position sex had turned into something, as Brenda had said, incredible.
Dragging her mind out of the past, warmth bloomed in Sharon’s belly and coursed through her bloodstream. She shot Brenda a heated look and the other woman let out a breath of anticipation, then stepped into Sharon, bringing their bodies into contact from knee to breast, trapping the toy between them.
“So you wanna, baby,” Brenda asked, her words puffing across Sharon’s lips.
“I think that maybe we can come to some sort of accord,” mused Sharon teasingly, slanting her lips across Brenda’s for a soft, lipstick flavored kiss. Brenda whimpered, pressing even closer, her hands fisting in Sharon’s sweater, hips shifting restlessly against Sharon’s.
Sharon focused intently on these kisses, using her mouth to make Brenda sigh and melt against her. It wasn’t easy to not do the same, to keep them both upright and not lean back against the desk, but if they were going to do this one of them needed to keep at least a little cool.
“Oh,” Brenda moaned, wrenching her lips away. “Please, Sharon. Please.” She looked up at Sharon, her eyes hazed over with want, cheeks flushed, lips swollen, lipstick all kissed away.
Sharon pivoted them swiftly, then used pressure on Brenda’s hips to spin her. With sure hands, she bent the blonde over the front of the mostly bare desk, then flipped the skirt of Brenda’s dress over her hips to expose her very bare ass.
At the sight of Brenda Leigh, exposed and shamelessly needy, all the air rushed out of Sharon’s lungs in a ‘woosh’ - the wily, imaginative Chief was capable of surprising her over and over again.
“No panties, Brenda Leigh?” She enquired in what she hoped was a steady tone.
“I took ‘em off in the restaurant,” replied Brenda, her voice trembling just as her thighs were, with a need she was trying to keep a hold of.
“Reach down and spread your lips for me - show me how wet you are,” Sharon heard herself order, the thought rolling off her lips before higher order brain function could intervene. Brenda did as she had asked; insinuating a had between herself and the desk and using her fingers to part the lips of her pussy. Fingers glistening with arousal, Brenda fought to keep from seeking contact for her clit on the palm of her hand; Sharon could see the struggle - every muscle in Brenda’s legs was taut and quivering. Moaning, Brenda’s hips jolted once, back towards Sharon.
“Please,” she entreated. “Please, Sharon.”
Holding the dildo by the bulb end, Sharon stepped up behind Brenda, placing one hand on one smooth, warm, trembling buttock, and using the other to drag the fat head of the cock up Brenda’s slit, still held open by her fingers.
“Oh,” she exhaled, then inhaled a shaky breath. “Oh.” She spread her legs farther, tilting her pelvis up, seeking the toy out. Continuing to tease Brenda with just the tip of the cock, Sharon bit back a groan. She could smell Brenda - salt and the musky tang of female desire - and all she wanted to do was get on her knees and have a taste of all that arousal that was just for her. But she didn’t. Instead, she finally parted Brenda and sheathed the toy in her ever so slowly, watching as the other woman’s pussy stretched to accept its girth, listening to her throaty pants, feeling the burn of Brenda’s skin beneath her palm and the sharp tingle of her own want between her legs. Once the toy had sunk in to its hilt, sweaty palmed, Sharon used the bulb to draw it back out at that same unhurried pace. A few more leisurely strokes, and she took her hands away, leaving the toy sheathed in Brenda, who gave a distressed little grunt.
“Hold on to that for me for a sec, honey.” Sharon whipped her sweater over her head, dropping it on to one of the guest chairs in front of her desk. The flushed skin of her bared chest cooled rapidly without the garment and goosebumps pricked up on her arms, but a little chill was much preferable to the thought of vigorous sex in a heavy wool sweater.
Brenda shifted her lower body and tried to crane her head around enough to see what Sharon was doing. “Sharon,” she protested, sounding a bit put out.
“Just a second,” Sharon soothed, unfastening her pants and pushing them down to her ankles. Her panties followed. “Just a second.”
Though she was feeling a bit unsteady on her legs, Sharon moved quickly; sliding the thoroughly soaked dildo from Brenda’s pussy (much to Brenda’s vocal displeasure), parting her own warm, wet lips and slipping the bulb end of the toy inside herself, hissing at the penetration. Awkwardly yoked by the clothing around her ankles, she got into position behind Brenda, between her spread legs, and guided the dick home in one fluid motion, pausing at the end of her stroke. Brenda pushed back against her and wriggled in aroused enthusiasm.
Feeling oddly constrained by the position and by the puddle of clothing tangling her feet, Sharon set a steady pace, not wanting to tease Brenda anymore, using her hands on the blonde’s slim hips to give herself a little leverage.
Brenda, meeting Sharon’s every thrust eagerly, loving the scratch of Sharon’s curls against her ass, and the feel of Sharon’s fingers digging into her hips, and the persistent stretch of dick that Sharon was pleasuring her with, was a bit disappointed. Apparently their perfect toy was less perfect in this position - she had no friction on or access to her clit, and there was no delicious drag of the cock’s head against her inner walls like there had been before. And maybe, when it came to sex with Sharon, Brenda was less enamored of doggy style in general. In their bed at home, perhaps, but right now, she couldn’t see or touch Sharon and that was less than appealing. She sighed gustily and Sharon hesitated mid-stroke, then stopped.
“What’s wrong?” Sharon asked, running her fingers along the skin of Brenda’s back, up and under her dress, to skim along her ribcage and pluck at the band of her bra.
“That’s what’s wrong,” answered Brenda answered vaguely. “Not enough contact.” She arched under Sharon’s hands for emphasis.
Sharon chuckled - she had been feeling the same way, but if Brenda was enjoying being bent over the desk, she would have seen it through till the other woman came. She shuffled back a step, the dildo falling from between Brenda’s legs with a faint slurp.
“Oh, good lord,” Brenda murmured.
“Turn around, honey.”
Brenda stood and turned, gathering her dress in one arm to keep it out of the way and propped herself on the edge of the desk, her legs spread for Sharon, exposing the damp patch of dark blonde curls at her apex and the slightly pouting lips below. Sharon stepped back into place, Brenda guiding the cock back where she wanted it. She sighed, with pleasure this time, and clasped Sharon to her, arms sliding under Sharon’s and fingers clutching at the skin of Sharon’s bare back.
Clinched tightly to Brenda, Sharon used short strokes to chase Brenda to the edge of her orgasm, enjoying the tug of the dildo on that sensitive spot in her pussy, Brenda Leigh’s labored breathing against her neck, and the scent of sweat and sex heavy in her nostrils. She hummed her satisfaction softly in Brenda’s ear.
“This is much better,” Brenda agreed, her voice muffled by the curtain of Sharon’s hair, and they rocked together until Brenda hunched her back a bit, wormed a hand in between them to stroke her clit firmly.
“Fuck, Shari!” She gasped, and then came, pressing her face into Sharon’s chest, and curling her legs around the backs of Sharon’s thighs. Sharon fucked her through the orgasm, only stopping when the blonde slumped bonelessly against her. Brenda giggled; her orgasm had made her giddy and effusive and she wanted to do the same for Sharon, but she allowed herself a few long moments to enjoy her afterglow, wrapped in Sharon’s arms.
When Sharon’s hips shifted, causing the dick still inside Brenda to bump up against a still deliciously sensitive spot, Brenda pulled back a bit. Now was not the time to go for secondsies with the dildo.
“Alright, then,” she pronounced. “Your turn now, baby.” She grasped Sharon’s hips and pushed back gently in the direction of a chair. The brunette stumbled a bit, but managed to keep her feet and collapse into the chair, the plastic penis bobbing ludicrously in her crotch like some sort of divining rod.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Brenda murmured, and knelt to divest Sharon of shoes and clothing.
“Aren’t we sort of tempting fate here, Brenda Leigh,” protested Sharon, albeit, half-heartedly. It was hard to think logically with gleaming eyed woman on her knees between her legs, looking at her like she was dessert. Brenda paused and looked up at Sharon from under the inky sweep of her eyelashes.
“Don’t you wanna come, Shari?”
“What I don’t want is to get caught having sex in my office,” Sharon managed to say, despite the fact that she was responding to Brenda’s physical cues to scoot forward and spread her legs more. Brenda rolled her eyes at Sharon, then focused her attention on the cock standing at attention amidst Sharon’s curls.
“Hush now,” she said, and licked her lips. She leaned in, looking up at Sharon again, the most devilish smirk Sharon had ever seen playing on her lips. The pink tip of her tongue peeking out, she winked, then swirled her tongue around the head of the toy, and moaned. She broke eye contact and took the head into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks, and then releasing it with a pop.
“Jesus, Brenda,” Sharon groaned, her toes curling, she clutched at the arms of the chair to keep from burying her hands in Brenda’s hair. She felt a hand between her legs, keeping the toy steady and providing pressure on the bulb inside of her. Her hips bucked. Brenda chuckled and slung an arm across Sharon’s hips to control her movements.
With long, slow strokes of her tongue, Brenda cleaned every bit of her arousal off the shaft of the fake dick, pausing occasionally to lick her lips and grin up at Sharon, who was wide-eyed and slack-jawed. Noticing Sharon’s white knuckled grip on the chair, she said: “’S okay, you can put your hands on my head,” then went back to work, taking the toy in her mouth and using suction to pull upwards against Sharon’s g-spot. Sharon took Brenda at her word, using her hands to lift Brenda’s hair up and back so it wouldn’t get in her way.
The toy clean, and Sharon panting and desperate after the little show, Brenda popped her mouth off the toy for the last time, and grasped the shaft firmly. Sitting back on her heels, face screwed up in concentration, she gave the toy a firm tug upwards, making sure to keep pressure on bulb so it hit Sharon properly. On the down stroke, she made sure to bump the base of the shaft against Sharon’s clit.
Already on edge from the stimulation overload, it was with a pleasant sort of disbelief that Sharon realized Brenda was going to get her off with a hand job. She moaned.
“Good, baby?” Brenda asked, still intently focused on the rhythm of her hand on the cock and her hand between Sharon’s legs.
“Ohmigod,” Sharon managed to grunt. “Don’t stop.” If her eyes hadn’t slammed shut at the stirrings of her impending orgasm, Sharon would have seen Brenda cast another eye-roll her way.
Sharon came with a wail, her back arching away from the chair, hands back to clutching at the arms of the chair. Brenda hoped to god there wasn’t anyone on this floor, dropping kisses on the quivering muscles of Sharon’s thighs. She rose up on her knees, and Sharon fell forward against her.
“That was wonderful,” she whispered fondly, wrapping her arms around Brenda and resting her cheek on Brenda’s blonde head.
Brenda hummed in reply, smug and happy, listening to the rapid beat of Sharon’s heart calm itself. Sharon shivered in her arms. “Let’s get cleaned up, and get you dressed.”
“I don’t think I can move,” Sharon whined, but she managed it.
They made themselves presentable, and left the suite hand-in-hand, entwined fingers pulling apart only when the elevator bumped to a stop back in the lobby.