Office secrets

The call went to voicemail. I hung up, sat back at my desk, and the thought hit me—what if lunch had nothing to do with work? Heat flushed between my legs. I slipped my skirt up, slid my thong aside, and sank two fingers into my already slick pussy. I was dripping fast, each slow stroke making soft, wet sounds in the quiet office. I kicked off one heel, propped my foot on the desk, and spread wider, rubbing my clit in tight circles until my breath came hard and shallow. Blonde hair stuck to my cheek as I bit my lip, chasing the edge, panties soaked and pushed to the side, the smell of my own arousal thick in the air.