touch me where i'm rusty (let me stain your hands)
Title: touch me where i'm rusty (let me stain your hands)
Author: nalakaori_chan
Fandom: The Office (US)
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Pure. Smut. Seriously; I'm embarrassed by how smutty this is.
Pairing: Pam/Karen
Short summary: Pam wears jeans to work; Karen likes it a little too much. Bathroom!sex ensues.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content and language.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Office or any related media.
Notes: This was written for femslash_today's fireworks 09: the (totally not) annual porn battle. The prompt was jeans.
This was not at all how Karen anticipated her work day going.
She’d thought it was going to be pretty quiet - well, as quiet as Dunder-Mifflin Scranton could ever get. She was just going to finish those damn expense reports and find mild amusement in Dwight’s idiocy and maybe go out for a sandwich on her lunch break. She was probably going to have to put up with Michael (or at least try to) and ignore the awkwardness between her and Jim (or at least try to) and very purposefully not think about how much more awkward it would be if he knew what she and Pam did behind closed doors…and in chairs…and on floors…and against walls - Karen can’t even try not to think about that. Still, having those thoughts right now will really not help her situation one bit.
Because Pam had to take Michael’s stupid Casual Friday thing to heart and wear those fucking jeans and it’s all Karen can think about.
It’s not as if Karen’s never seen Pam wear jeans before. She has a few old, coffee-stained pairs that she likes to paint in on the weekends. Karen loves watching Pam paint - loves watching her nose scrunch up while she thinks and the way she rubs the toes on her left foot against the ankle of her right when she’s concentrating and the little grunts of frustration she makes when the blue mixes with the green. So really, she’s seen Pam paint enough times to be quite comfortable with the few pairs of jeans that Pam owns. And goddamnit, those have got to be new, because Karen’s is one hundred and ten percent sure she would have remembered if Pam had worn them before.
Karen absentmindedly bites her lip. Jesus, those jeans are something. They cling to Pam like a second skin, stretching tautly over the curves of her ass and thighs. Karen imagines pulling Pam down into her lap and kneading the flesh between her hands, feeling Pam’s hot little moans warm the skin on her neck. Karen’s spine is tingling now; her chest is burning and she knows the skin must be flushed with arousal. She lets her eyes flutter shut for a moment and decides that something must be done. Karen’s going to get her alone by the end of the day and have her wicked way with Pam if it kills her. But what a death it will be, she thinks with a grin.
She isn’t smiling for long, though. After witnessing Kevin’s leering, Jim’s doe-eyed stare, and Michael’s inappropriate comments for the better half of the day, Karen’s about ready to walk up to reception, tip Pam’s head back, and give her the hottest kiss of her life - a kiss that’ll finally tell everyone that Pam is hers, that they can just back off because for once in her life, Karen Filippelli won out in the end. She won the best prize of all: Pam. Pam and that ass of hers.
Every time Pam gets out of her chair to bring Michael a message or refill her mug of tea, Karen can’t help but stare unabashedly at Pam’s ass, swathed in those deliciously tight jeans. Just looking at that dark denim resting low on Pam’s full hips, emphasizing her every curve, makes Karen think of last night. Oh, Jesus, last night. They hadn’t even made it to the bedroom; Karen had pulled Pam to the kitchen floor, pulled her shirt up and her jeans down, and fucked her senseless. She can still close her eyes and see Pam’s face, sweat-slicked, blood sliding down her lip from where she’d bitten it; the nerve endings of her fingers still tingle with the feeling of being buried deep in Pam’s spasming cunt. Karen lets out the tiniest of groans; when Jim looks over at her, she grins weakly and mutters something about annoying clients, all the while trying to ignore the warmth that’s been pooling in her belly all day.
Fuck. She’s never been this wet at work before and it is bad, very bad, but oh so fucking good at the same time.
The worst part is that Pam seems to have absolutely no idea what she’s doing to Karen. Every once in a while she’ll look up from her computer and meet Karen’s eyes with a small smile; once, on her way to the restroom, she casually rested her hand on Karen’s shoulder. She just doesn’t know how fucking hot she is. Normally, people like that bother Karen. To her, they seem to be one of two things: either terribly naïve or faking it. Pam doesn’t fall into either one of those categories, though, and to be honest that’s one of the things that first attracted Karen to her. It’s just such an utterly Pam thing to do, to be so understatedly gorgeous and at the same time not understand how anyone could ever think she was beautiful.
When Michael calls Jim and Dwight into his office for a meeting of some sort, Karen takes the opportunity to sidle up to reception. She casually rests her arm on the side of the counter, shooting an appreciative glance behind the desk at Pam’s legs.
Pam looks up at her and smiles. Karen can’t help but notice how different Pam’s smile looks when it’s directed at her - it’s more of a grin, really, big and bright, and it crinkles the skin around her eyes.
“Hey,” says Karen.
“Hey,” grins Pam.
Karen looks around to make sure no one’s listening before she leans in to the desk. She’s so turned on that she’s openly trembling.
“I want to fuck you,” she murmurs. “Here. Now.”
Pam’s eyes widen. She shudders involuntarily.
“Karen,” she chokes. “What are you - ?” Karen doesn’t have time for this; she’s too busy watching Pam’s mouth move.
“Meet me in the bathroom,” Karen hisses. She turns on her heel and briskly strolls towards the door.
Pam blinks once, twice. Karen’s never done this before. They have a healthy sex life - very healthy, in fact - and neither of them is averse to trying new things. They both like to spice it up a little sometimes. But they’ve never talked about sex in public places. And sex at work is something Pam had never even considered. (Well, that’s a lie. She’d considered it, certainly, but more in an abstract, daydreamy sort of way. A wouldn’t it be nice to shove Karen up against her desk and fuck her silly kind of way.)
And, well, she can’t deny that hearing Karen tell her she wanted to fuck her sent a jolt of unexpected pleasure strait to her clit. And the more she thinks about having sex with Karen, pushed up against a wall in the bathroom and trying to stay quiet, the more she likes the idea. It’s not something Old Pam would have done - Old Pam wasn’t even comfortable with Roy going down on her; the thought of Roy going down on her in a public bathroom would have made her sick to her stomach with nervousness. But Pam likes to think that Fancy New Beesly is a little more sexually mature than Old Pam was.
When she shifts in her chair and feels the wetness in her panties, Pam makes her decision. She steps quickly out from behind her desk and moves blindly towards the bathroom, running into Stanley’s desk on her way out the door. The pain doesn’t even register and before she thinks about what she’s about to do, she’s face to face with Karen in the ladies’ room.
“You came.” Karen’s eyes are so dark they’re almost black. Pam grins; there’s a hint of shyness in her smile but she’s mostly just turned on. She thinks that if she wasn’t as turned on as she is she might not be able to do this, but the heat in her belly is telling her exactly what she has to do and her brain isn’t functioning well enough to counter it. She steps toward Karen and places her lips below Karen’s ear in a soft kiss.
“Not yet, I haven’t,” murmurs Pam, and Karen grits her teeth. “Would you like to help me with that?”
“Jesus, Pam; would I ever,” she hisses. Before Pam can say anything else, Karen’s hooking her fingers on Pam’s belt loops and pulling Pam’s hips flush against her own and attacking Pam’s neck with her mouth. Pam groans and fists a hand in Karen’s hair and Karen’s so fucking done with hiding her desires. She cups Pam’s ass in her hands and pulls Pam’s body even closer to her; Pam’s breasts brush against her own and Pam wraps one of her legs around Karen’s knee and pulls them down onto the couch (Pam used to wonder why the heck there was a couch in this dinky little office bathroom; now, she reminds herself to thank whoever put it there in the first place).
Karen’s muttering under her breath as she pulls Pam’s t-shirt up over her head, obscenities and sentence fragments escaping disjointedly from her mouth like kites without strings.
“God, Pam…so hot…ugh, those fucking jeans…fuck, Pam…I’m gonna make you come so hard…you’re gonna be sitting in your desk for the rest of the day and you’re gonna be so fucking sore-” Karen’s words are punctuated by a grunt as she unhooks Pam’s bra and covers her full breasts with her hands, taking a second to appreciate their softness, their fullness, and then lowers her mouth to the valley between them. Pam bites her bottom lip between her teeth and tries not to moan; she thinks half of the reason she’s so damn wet is just from seeing Karen, normally so composed and sophisticated, flushed pink and trembling as she presses her mouth against Pam’s left nipple and takes it lightly between her teeth.
Pam almost chokes; she can’t believe they’re doing this in the office bathroom, can’t believe that just outside Stanley’s doing his crossword puzzle and Dwight’s shooting Angela looks over his bobbleheads and Jim’s just typing away on his computer, blissfully unaware of the way that Karen’s pushing Pam back against the couch and Karen’s fingers are making their way down Pam’s stomach and Karen’s knee is pressed firmly between Pam’s legs.
“Pam Beesly, you are a naughty girl,” Karen sighs as she slides her hand under the waistband of Pam’s jeans, then thinks twice and moves backwards to appreciate the view for a moment longer and oh, what a view it is. Pam’s flushed and panting; her curls are mussed about her face and her bare chest is heaving with the force of her breaths. Blotchy red patches decorate Pam’s neck, spots that will definitely be bruises by tomorrow, and Karen can’t help but think that all of the art Pam ever creates will pale when compared to Pam herself, lying there with dark eyes, ready to be fucked.
“How am I naughty, Karen? You’re the one who dragged me into the bathroom at work,” Pam breathes out, and the spaces between her words are punctuated with little gasps. Karen grins and slides Pam’s zipper down.
“You gave me no other choice,” Karen pants as she grabs the waistband of the offending jeans and slides them smoothly down Pam’s hips. Karen normally loves taking her sweet time before giving Pam oral sex. In fact, on any given day, after five minutes of licking her way up and down Pam’s thighs, Karen is usually panting just as hard as Pam is. She can’t help it; there’s something about reducing Pam to a quivering, whimpering, moaning mess that gets her off faster than almost anything else. So Pam’s surprised when Karen goes straight for her panties; not upset, necessarily, but still surprised.
“What did I do - oh,” Pam takes a deep breath in as Karen’s fingers brush lightly over her sex. Karen shifts around slightly on the couch to get settled; she needs a good spot to watch the expression on Pam’s face as she pushes two fingers inside of her. Pam’s hips involuntarily buck into Karen’s hand and she throws her head behind her with a quiet moan, sending her hair cascading down her back. Karen scissors her fingers inside of Pam as she leans down and blows damp, hot air directly over Pam.
“Oh, Karen,” Pam hisses and buries her fingers in Karen’s hair, forcing her head down further. Karen smirks and flicks her tongue lightly over the top of Pam’s clit.
“Come on, Karen, more,” moans Pam; she’s desperate, desperate for something to send her over the edge and more than anything else, she needs it to be Karen who finally makes her come. Karen, who she jokes and laughs and cries with; Karen, who used to be nothing but now is everything; Karen, who’s stretching her with a third finger now and Pam writhes and bucks underneath her. Karen brings her head up to nibble on Pam’s ear but keeps thrusting her fingers in and out, pausing to curl them inside of Pam before lightly pinching Pam’s clit with her other hand.
“Oh, shit, Karen, I’m - oh,” Pam brings a hand up to pinch her nipple; she’s lost all of her inhibitions and Karen thinks that watching Pam touch herself is one of the sexiest things she’s ever seen. And even as she keeps fucking Pam, stretching her cunt with her fingers, she’s rubbing her own thighs together, desperate for any friction. She can feel her engorged clit throbbing against the seam of her pants and she moans. It’s taking all of her willpower not to let her eyes flutter shut and just get lost in the sensations of Pam’s slickness around her fingers. Still, she keeps them open, roving over Pam’s body hungrily.
“Gonna come soon,” Pam chokes out.
“Oh, yes, you are,” pants Karen. She slows down a bit but angles her fingers so that they’re hitting Pam deeper, harder than they were before. “You are going to come and you are going to come so hard. Are you listening to me, Pam?” Pam nods blindly and thrusts her hips forward to meet Karen’s fingers.
“Think you can take one more?” Karen asks her. Pam groans. “Yes” - she stops to cry out softly and Karen bites her lip. She’s more turned on than she’s ever been in her life and all she’s done is fuck Pam but somehow the knowledge that this is Pam she’s got her fingers inside of, Pam who she’s fucking in the middle of the office, sends little jolts of pleasure to her clit.
Karen slowly starts pushing a fourth finger inside. Pam’s face contorts and she stills the movements of her hips, preparing herself. Karen stops to plant a gentle kiss to Pam’s thigh and then her finger slides into Pam.
“Jesus Christ,” Pam exclaims and Karen manages a weak grin.
“Nope, just me,” she murmurs, and looks up at Pam from her position between Pam’s legs. “Tell me how it feels, Pam.”
Pam bites her lip. She can’t believe Karen’s expecting her to form coherent sentences right now, but she wants to share this feeling with Karen, so she tries her best.
“God, just - full,” she gasps. “So fucking full. I - God, Karen, you feel so fucking good,” she chokes out, and Karen moans loudly, thinking that if they make any more noise people are going to come in and see them. She realizes that she doesn’t care.
“You’re tight, Pam,” she manages to choke out, and Pam sighs. Her hips are jumping off the couch and she wants Karen to just move her fucking fingers already.
“Fuck me, damnit,” she says, and then laughs despite herself. She’s cussed more in this little expedition than she has in the last year and it’s fitting somehow.
“Will do,” smirks Karen, and then she slides her fingers out slowly, only to shove them right back in again.
“Yes there oh fuck yes right there,” Pam hisses, and Karen only has to pinch Pam’s clit between her fingers and then fuck, Pam is coming hard. Karen can feel her muscles contracting frantically around her fingers and the noises Pam’s making are almost unbearably erotic; little mewls and whimpers and she’s clutching the couch and clutching the air and then clutching onto Karen, her anchor throughout it all, and she thinks she has the best orgasms with Karen because with Roy she was scared to let go completely. She didn’t know if he’d catch her, he was so caught up in catching himself. With Karen, though, she knows Karen will be there, with her arms ready to grab Pam as she comes back down to earth and that look on her face that she always gets when she’s really turned on (and lately there’s been something else in her face too, something warm that makes Pam feel like a high school girl again when she sees it, but she doesn’t think about it too much). Pam closes her eyes for a moment and completely gives herself over to Karen for a moment, content in the knowledge that she’ll be okay.
Karen looks down and laughs when she realizes she never even got Pam’s jeans all the way off of her body; they’re pooled around her ankles. Pam blinks up at Karen through the post-orgasmic haze surrounding her.
“Huh?” she asks. Karen giggles. She’s feeling immensely proud of herself right now (and still turned on as fuck, but they can take care of that in a minute). She thinks she can add “making Pam come” to the list of her favorite things to do (if it wasn’t on there already - which, okay, it was; but she’s not a pervert, really. She’s just maybe - er, possibly…kind of, well, she’s undecided but…perhaps a little bit in love).
“I just…those fucking jeans,” Karen says with a shake of her head, even though she knows if it wasn’t the jeans, it would have been something else and they would have ended up fucking in the office eventually anyway. “I am never letting you change out of those again.”
Pam blinks. “Oh…did you like them?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow. Karen snorts and buries her head between Pam’s breasts.
“Oh, did I ever,” she says with a grin. “Did I ever.” She can feel her heart beating in her ears and it’s loud but also slower than she thought it’d be, and she can feel the throbbing between her legs ebbing slightly. She remembers when she was with Jim and after they had sex she’d clutch him to her and just talk for hours; she knew he hated it but she was so scared every time would be the last time and the next day would be the day he left her alone (and she was so damn sick of being alone). After sex with Jim her chest would constrict and she’d feel stupid and terrified and girly and nervous all at once.
With Pam, though, she just feels warm all over. There’s no lump in her throat, no tears in her eyes; there’s just what she thinks is contentment settling in her belly and the taste of something new on the back of her tongue.
-
Crossposted here.
Story (c) nalakaori-chan (Olivia), 2009
The Office (c) NBC
Please let me know what you think! :)
Author: nalakaori_chan
Fandom: The Office (US)
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Pure. Smut. Seriously; I'm embarrassed by how smutty this is.
Pairing: Pam/Karen
Short summary: Pam wears jeans to work; Karen likes it a little too much. Bathroom!sex ensues.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content and language.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Office or any related media.
Notes: This was written for femslash_today's fireworks 09: the (totally not) annual porn battle. The prompt was jeans.
This was not at all how Karen anticipated her work day going.
She’d thought it was going to be pretty quiet - well, as quiet as Dunder-Mifflin Scranton could ever get. She was just going to finish those damn expense reports and find mild amusement in Dwight’s idiocy and maybe go out for a sandwich on her lunch break. She was probably going to have to put up with Michael (or at least try to) and ignore the awkwardness between her and Jim (or at least try to) and very purposefully not think about how much more awkward it would be if he knew what she and Pam did behind closed doors…and in chairs…and on floors…and against walls - Karen can’t even try not to think about that. Still, having those thoughts right now will really not help her situation one bit.
Because Pam had to take Michael’s stupid Casual Friday thing to heart and wear those fucking jeans and it’s all Karen can think about.
It’s not as if Karen’s never seen Pam wear jeans before. She has a few old, coffee-stained pairs that she likes to paint in on the weekends. Karen loves watching Pam paint - loves watching her nose scrunch up while she thinks and the way she rubs the toes on her left foot against the ankle of her right when she’s concentrating and the little grunts of frustration she makes when the blue mixes with the green. So really, she’s seen Pam paint enough times to be quite comfortable with the few pairs of jeans that Pam owns. And goddamnit, those have got to be new, because Karen’s is one hundred and ten percent sure she would have remembered if Pam had worn them before.
Karen absentmindedly bites her lip. Jesus, those jeans are something. They cling to Pam like a second skin, stretching tautly over the curves of her ass and thighs. Karen imagines pulling Pam down into her lap and kneading the flesh between her hands, feeling Pam’s hot little moans warm the skin on her neck. Karen’s spine is tingling now; her chest is burning and she knows the skin must be flushed with arousal. She lets her eyes flutter shut for a moment and decides that something must be done. Karen’s going to get her alone by the end of the day and have her wicked way with Pam if it kills her. But what a death it will be, she thinks with a grin.
She isn’t smiling for long, though. After witnessing Kevin’s leering, Jim’s doe-eyed stare, and Michael’s inappropriate comments for the better half of the day, Karen’s about ready to walk up to reception, tip Pam’s head back, and give her the hottest kiss of her life - a kiss that’ll finally tell everyone that Pam is hers, that they can just back off because for once in her life, Karen Filippelli won out in the end. She won the best prize of all: Pam. Pam and that ass of hers.
Every time Pam gets out of her chair to bring Michael a message or refill her mug of tea, Karen can’t help but stare unabashedly at Pam’s ass, swathed in those deliciously tight jeans. Just looking at that dark denim resting low on Pam’s full hips, emphasizing her every curve, makes Karen think of last night. Oh, Jesus, last night. They hadn’t even made it to the bedroom; Karen had pulled Pam to the kitchen floor, pulled her shirt up and her jeans down, and fucked her senseless. She can still close her eyes and see Pam’s face, sweat-slicked, blood sliding down her lip from where she’d bitten it; the nerve endings of her fingers still tingle with the feeling of being buried deep in Pam’s spasming cunt. Karen lets out the tiniest of groans; when Jim looks over at her, she grins weakly and mutters something about annoying clients, all the while trying to ignore the warmth that’s been pooling in her belly all day.
Fuck. She’s never been this wet at work before and it is bad, very bad, but oh so fucking good at the same time.
The worst part is that Pam seems to have absolutely no idea what she’s doing to Karen. Every once in a while she’ll look up from her computer and meet Karen’s eyes with a small smile; once, on her way to the restroom, she casually rested her hand on Karen’s shoulder. She just doesn’t know how fucking hot she is. Normally, people like that bother Karen. To her, they seem to be one of two things: either terribly naïve or faking it. Pam doesn’t fall into either one of those categories, though, and to be honest that’s one of the things that first attracted Karen to her. It’s just such an utterly Pam thing to do, to be so understatedly gorgeous and at the same time not understand how anyone could ever think she was beautiful.
When Michael calls Jim and Dwight into his office for a meeting of some sort, Karen takes the opportunity to sidle up to reception. She casually rests her arm on the side of the counter, shooting an appreciative glance behind the desk at Pam’s legs.
Pam looks up at her and smiles. Karen can’t help but notice how different Pam’s smile looks when it’s directed at her - it’s more of a grin, really, big and bright, and it crinkles the skin around her eyes.
“Hey,” says Karen.
“Hey,” grins Pam.
Karen looks around to make sure no one’s listening before she leans in to the desk. She’s so turned on that she’s openly trembling.
“I want to fuck you,” she murmurs. “Here. Now.”
Pam’s eyes widen. She shudders involuntarily.
“Karen,” she chokes. “What are you - ?” Karen doesn’t have time for this; she’s too busy watching Pam’s mouth move.
“Meet me in the bathroom,” Karen hisses. She turns on her heel and briskly strolls towards the door.
Pam blinks once, twice. Karen’s never done this before. They have a healthy sex life - very healthy, in fact - and neither of them is averse to trying new things. They both like to spice it up a little sometimes. But they’ve never talked about sex in public places. And sex at work is something Pam had never even considered. (Well, that’s a lie. She’d considered it, certainly, but more in an abstract, daydreamy sort of way. A wouldn’t it be nice to shove Karen up against her desk and fuck her silly kind of way.)
And, well, she can’t deny that hearing Karen tell her she wanted to fuck her sent a jolt of unexpected pleasure strait to her clit. And the more she thinks about having sex with Karen, pushed up against a wall in the bathroom and trying to stay quiet, the more she likes the idea. It’s not something Old Pam would have done - Old Pam wasn’t even comfortable with Roy going down on her; the thought of Roy going down on her in a public bathroom would have made her sick to her stomach with nervousness. But Pam likes to think that Fancy New Beesly is a little more sexually mature than Old Pam was.
When she shifts in her chair and feels the wetness in her panties, Pam makes her decision. She steps quickly out from behind her desk and moves blindly towards the bathroom, running into Stanley’s desk on her way out the door. The pain doesn’t even register and before she thinks about what she’s about to do, she’s face to face with Karen in the ladies’ room.
“You came.” Karen’s eyes are so dark they’re almost black. Pam grins; there’s a hint of shyness in her smile but she’s mostly just turned on. She thinks that if she wasn’t as turned on as she is she might not be able to do this, but the heat in her belly is telling her exactly what she has to do and her brain isn’t functioning well enough to counter it. She steps toward Karen and places her lips below Karen’s ear in a soft kiss.
“Not yet, I haven’t,” murmurs Pam, and Karen grits her teeth. “Would you like to help me with that?”
“Jesus, Pam; would I ever,” she hisses. Before Pam can say anything else, Karen’s hooking her fingers on Pam’s belt loops and pulling Pam’s hips flush against her own and attacking Pam’s neck with her mouth. Pam groans and fists a hand in Karen’s hair and Karen’s so fucking done with hiding her desires. She cups Pam’s ass in her hands and pulls Pam’s body even closer to her; Pam’s breasts brush against her own and Pam wraps one of her legs around Karen’s knee and pulls them down onto the couch (Pam used to wonder why the heck there was a couch in this dinky little office bathroom; now, she reminds herself to thank whoever put it there in the first place).
Karen’s muttering under her breath as she pulls Pam’s t-shirt up over her head, obscenities and sentence fragments escaping disjointedly from her mouth like kites without strings.
“God, Pam…so hot…ugh, those fucking jeans…fuck, Pam…I’m gonna make you come so hard…you’re gonna be sitting in your desk for the rest of the day and you’re gonna be so fucking sore-” Karen’s words are punctuated by a grunt as she unhooks Pam’s bra and covers her full breasts with her hands, taking a second to appreciate their softness, their fullness, and then lowers her mouth to the valley between them. Pam bites her bottom lip between her teeth and tries not to moan; she thinks half of the reason she’s so damn wet is just from seeing Karen, normally so composed and sophisticated, flushed pink and trembling as she presses her mouth against Pam’s left nipple and takes it lightly between her teeth.
Pam almost chokes; she can’t believe they’re doing this in the office bathroom, can’t believe that just outside Stanley’s doing his crossword puzzle and Dwight’s shooting Angela looks over his bobbleheads and Jim’s just typing away on his computer, blissfully unaware of the way that Karen’s pushing Pam back against the couch and Karen’s fingers are making their way down Pam’s stomach and Karen’s knee is pressed firmly between Pam’s legs.
“Pam Beesly, you are a naughty girl,” Karen sighs as she slides her hand under the waistband of Pam’s jeans, then thinks twice and moves backwards to appreciate the view for a moment longer and oh, what a view it is. Pam’s flushed and panting; her curls are mussed about her face and her bare chest is heaving with the force of her breaths. Blotchy red patches decorate Pam’s neck, spots that will definitely be bruises by tomorrow, and Karen can’t help but think that all of the art Pam ever creates will pale when compared to Pam herself, lying there with dark eyes, ready to be fucked.
“How am I naughty, Karen? You’re the one who dragged me into the bathroom at work,” Pam breathes out, and the spaces between her words are punctuated with little gasps. Karen grins and slides Pam’s zipper down.
“You gave me no other choice,” Karen pants as she grabs the waistband of the offending jeans and slides them smoothly down Pam’s hips. Karen normally loves taking her sweet time before giving Pam oral sex. In fact, on any given day, after five minutes of licking her way up and down Pam’s thighs, Karen is usually panting just as hard as Pam is. She can’t help it; there’s something about reducing Pam to a quivering, whimpering, moaning mess that gets her off faster than almost anything else. So Pam’s surprised when Karen goes straight for her panties; not upset, necessarily, but still surprised.
“What did I do - oh,” Pam takes a deep breath in as Karen’s fingers brush lightly over her sex. Karen shifts around slightly on the couch to get settled; she needs a good spot to watch the expression on Pam’s face as she pushes two fingers inside of her. Pam’s hips involuntarily buck into Karen’s hand and she throws her head behind her with a quiet moan, sending her hair cascading down her back. Karen scissors her fingers inside of Pam as she leans down and blows damp, hot air directly over Pam.
“Oh, Karen,” Pam hisses and buries her fingers in Karen’s hair, forcing her head down further. Karen smirks and flicks her tongue lightly over the top of Pam’s clit.
“Come on, Karen, more,” moans Pam; she’s desperate, desperate for something to send her over the edge and more than anything else, she needs it to be Karen who finally makes her come. Karen, who she jokes and laughs and cries with; Karen, who used to be nothing but now is everything; Karen, who’s stretching her with a third finger now and Pam writhes and bucks underneath her. Karen brings her head up to nibble on Pam’s ear but keeps thrusting her fingers in and out, pausing to curl them inside of Pam before lightly pinching Pam’s clit with her other hand.
“Oh, shit, Karen, I’m - oh,” Pam brings a hand up to pinch her nipple; she’s lost all of her inhibitions and Karen thinks that watching Pam touch herself is one of the sexiest things she’s ever seen. And even as she keeps fucking Pam, stretching her cunt with her fingers, she’s rubbing her own thighs together, desperate for any friction. She can feel her engorged clit throbbing against the seam of her pants and she moans. It’s taking all of her willpower not to let her eyes flutter shut and just get lost in the sensations of Pam’s slickness around her fingers. Still, she keeps them open, roving over Pam’s body hungrily.
“Gonna come soon,” Pam chokes out.
“Oh, yes, you are,” pants Karen. She slows down a bit but angles her fingers so that they’re hitting Pam deeper, harder than they were before. “You are going to come and you are going to come so hard. Are you listening to me, Pam?” Pam nods blindly and thrusts her hips forward to meet Karen’s fingers.
“Think you can take one more?” Karen asks her. Pam groans. “Yes” - she stops to cry out softly and Karen bites her lip. She’s more turned on than she’s ever been in her life and all she’s done is fuck Pam but somehow the knowledge that this is Pam she’s got her fingers inside of, Pam who she’s fucking in the middle of the office, sends little jolts of pleasure to her clit.
Karen slowly starts pushing a fourth finger inside. Pam’s face contorts and she stills the movements of her hips, preparing herself. Karen stops to plant a gentle kiss to Pam’s thigh and then her finger slides into Pam.
“Jesus Christ,” Pam exclaims and Karen manages a weak grin.
“Nope, just me,” she murmurs, and looks up at Pam from her position between Pam’s legs. “Tell me how it feels, Pam.”
Pam bites her lip. She can’t believe Karen’s expecting her to form coherent sentences right now, but she wants to share this feeling with Karen, so she tries her best.
“God, just - full,” she gasps. “So fucking full. I - God, Karen, you feel so fucking good,” she chokes out, and Karen moans loudly, thinking that if they make any more noise people are going to come in and see them. She realizes that she doesn’t care.
“You’re tight, Pam,” she manages to choke out, and Pam sighs. Her hips are jumping off the couch and she wants Karen to just move her fucking fingers already.
“Fuck me, damnit,” she says, and then laughs despite herself. She’s cussed more in this little expedition than she has in the last year and it’s fitting somehow.
“Will do,” smirks Karen, and then she slides her fingers out slowly, only to shove them right back in again.
“Yes there oh fuck yes right there,” Pam hisses, and Karen only has to pinch Pam’s clit between her fingers and then fuck, Pam is coming hard. Karen can feel her muscles contracting frantically around her fingers and the noises Pam’s making are almost unbearably erotic; little mewls and whimpers and she’s clutching the couch and clutching the air and then clutching onto Karen, her anchor throughout it all, and she thinks she has the best orgasms with Karen because with Roy she was scared to let go completely. She didn’t know if he’d catch her, he was so caught up in catching himself. With Karen, though, she knows Karen will be there, with her arms ready to grab Pam as she comes back down to earth and that look on her face that she always gets when she’s really turned on (and lately there’s been something else in her face too, something warm that makes Pam feel like a high school girl again when she sees it, but she doesn’t think about it too much). Pam closes her eyes for a moment and completely gives herself over to Karen for a moment, content in the knowledge that she’ll be okay.
Karen looks down and laughs when she realizes she never even got Pam’s jeans all the way off of her body; they’re pooled around her ankles. Pam blinks up at Karen through the post-orgasmic haze surrounding her.
“Huh?” she asks. Karen giggles. She’s feeling immensely proud of herself right now (and still turned on as fuck, but they can take care of that in a minute). She thinks she can add “making Pam come” to the list of her favorite things to do (if it wasn’t on there already - which, okay, it was; but she’s not a pervert, really. She’s just maybe - er, possibly…kind of, well, she’s undecided but…perhaps a little bit in love).
“I just…those fucking jeans,” Karen says with a shake of her head, even though she knows if it wasn’t the jeans, it would have been something else and they would have ended up fucking in the office eventually anyway. “I am never letting you change out of those again.”
Pam blinks. “Oh…did you like them?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow. Karen snorts and buries her head between Pam’s breasts.
“Oh, did I ever,” she says with a grin. “Did I ever.” She can feel her heart beating in her ears and it’s loud but also slower than she thought it’d be, and she can feel the throbbing between her legs ebbing slightly. She remembers when she was with Jim and after they had sex she’d clutch him to her and just talk for hours; she knew he hated it but she was so scared every time would be the last time and the next day would be the day he left her alone (and she was so damn sick of being alone). After sex with Jim her chest would constrict and she’d feel stupid and terrified and girly and nervous all at once.
With Pam, though, she just feels warm all over. There’s no lump in her throat, no tears in her eyes; there’s just what she thinks is contentment settling in her belly and the taste of something new on the back of her tongue.
-
Crossposted here.
Story (c) nalakaori-chan (Olivia), 2009
The Office (c) NBC
Please let me know what you think! :)