A Human Touch

Reclining in her chair and emitting a vexed exhale, Nike Toris brought the tips of the fingers to the temple of her skull in an attempt to ease the dull ache that was swelling within. The financial year had always been a stressful time, and always would be, as every man and his dog sought to make amends for leaving their taxes to the last minute, and piling their procrastination into the lap of one of the more reputable accountancy firms in town – for a handsome price.

Abruptly – but predictably – the intercom tore the young woman from the vestiges of temporary serenity with a most annoying buzz. It was her secretary.

‘Nike, we’ve got Jones Bracks on the line, says he’s going to be a little late bringing in his books today – they wont be here until 6pm’

‘Oh good…’ the CEO of Victory Accounts sighed, taking refuge in the detail of Brack’s generous ten percent profit cut that went directly into her companies coffers.

‘You…sound a little stressed Nickie,’

Though just an abbreviation of her real name – and something of a pet peeve of hers – Nike allowed the nickname to pass between the lips of friends. She had a great affection for those she allowed close to her heart, and such individuals were given more leeway than others of lesser quality.

‘is there anything I can do?’

Not unless you can stop time, Toris mused gingerly. ‘No thank you’ she responded crisply, taking great care to cement over whatever cracks her subordinates might have spotted in her otherwise steadfast durability ‘Though order me some Chinese would you please, just some rice. I might be here a bit longer tonight than expected. Thank you’

‘Yes ma’am’.

Seconds after the intercom had fallen silent, the blurred glass doors to Nikes office burst open to allow in a hurried and frantic Junior Accountant – the dark patches under his arms and across the rim of his collar hinting at the haste with which he had arrived.

‘Nike! Mate, Im so sorry that I –‘

‘This had better be good Stavross – I don’t appreciate my space being barged in upon’

The younger accountant’s face flushed with a ripple of understanding and realization; his mannerisms and instinctive etiquette correcting and straightening himself in the face of his professional superior and her stern reputation. ‘Of course, my apologies Miss Toris’

‘Lesson learned mate, go on’ The woman relaxed, satisfied she had made her point.

‘Those Jefferson and Miles accounts you requested, you told me to tell you the minute they came in – ‘

‘Yes’ Nike encouraged, her eagerness swelling as she reminded herself of the connections that particular law firm possessed. A stainless work ethic for their Partners would go a long way in securing her firm as a respectable and formidable branch in the business world – a shield of quality that the woman was eager to display, hold and implement.

‘I…have one of our insiders on the line,’ Stavross begun hesitantly, holding forth a phone clasped between his chubby hands – a device Nike had not noticed upon his entry and a tool that the young man held onto dearly.

‘he says the Partners are considering Lion and Soul to do their accounts’

A visible wave of seething slithered over Nikes otherwise classy features – her eye lids widening just slightly and her knuckles blotting white under the new found pressure her fingers were applying to her armchair. The air around the thirty one year old seemed to grow noticeably in temperature, and Stavross could have sworn he saw the small tendrils of steam shoot from his bosses’ ears.

‘Stavross’ she spoke in deathly quiet.

‘Y-yes?’

‘Hand me the telephone. Now’

Cautious as if he were fending off an enraged lion with a chair and a whip, the Greek placed the mobile phone in front of his boss and quickly backed away – afraid that that Nike might explode any minute in a detonation of fury. He felt pinned to the wall under the scrutiny of her gaze!

‘Now please leave the room’

No objections there: Stavross affected a hasty retreat.

Almost crushing the small plastic device with the power of her disgust, Nike scooped up the mobile and brought the device to her ear and mouth – clearing her vocal cords before she did, and readying her keen mind to deliver a most verbose arse kicking.

oOo

Night time for Jordan Neine was always a pleasant affair, with very little of the worlds worries ever coming to depress the spring in his walk. Young though he was, only a mere twenty six years old, he had climbed into a promising position amongst an up and coming legal firm that had bent over backwards in acquiring his keen services – his University track record displaying nothing but the finest exactitudes and accuracies amongst his work and vigil.

Standing as his instructor had educated him so many years ago – feet at shoulders width and shoulders square – the young up-and-comer drew his arms back and followed through with an immaculate gold swing – the small blue gold ball sailing a mere seven meters before its velocity was abruptly cut short by the net of an indoor golfing range.

‘Two hundred and one yards’ a feminine recording relayed after a small calculation, the smile of the handsome adult mirroring his pride.

Swinging the golf driver in his grip, Jordan Neine produced a small remote from his pocket and depressed the Play button in the direction of his oak desk – the air of his spacious office coming alive with the gentle thrum of Sebastian Bach. Opulent though it was, Jordan liked to think to himself that a workers office space reflected on the individual as a whole – the neatness and sanitary conditions of his room almost akin to that found in a hospital.

Crossing the distance between himself and his desk, Jordan laid his gold club down on the surface and sunk himself into the leathery depths of his chair, reclining backwards and turning to admire the highrise view he received out his wall-window. The city was always beautiful at night, a blanket of multicolored jewels that emitted nothing but the brightest sense of engineering prowess and aesthetic beauty that the young lawyer found both touching and reflective. The way the ceiling of twilight –

‘Sir, Nike Toris from Victory Accounting is here to see you – she rescheduled her appointment to tonight’

The glimmer of annoyance at being interrupted in what he considered a private moment was soothed and quelled at the mention of his clients name. He peered over his shoulder at the intercom, pouring his hope into a beaming smile.

‘Yes, of course! Send her right up’

Alive with energy, Jordan sprung from the comfort of his chair and took his driver in hand, his well muscled legs transporting him quickly to his golfing spot. Hurriedly dropping another ball before him, Jordan was in the final moments of a swing when his most precious of clients appeared through his distorted glass doors – her body moving like she bore a great weight upon her shoulders.

‘One hundred and ninety yards’

‘Nickie’ Jordan smiled with an inclination of his brow, pleased that his eyes could travel up her trim figure once again.

The older woman only offered the most fleeting gestures of respect, her attention almost vacant to the point of nonexistent.

‘Trouble at the office today?’ Neine inquired, dropping another gold ball before him.

Nike sighed - allowing a glint of humanity through an otherwise steel fence perimeter – and approached, taking the driver out of Jordans hands and turning so that her back was against his front.

‘That bad huh?’ He could only smile, bringing his arms around her waist and holding her hands around the grip of the golfing instrument. The young man inhaled softly the scent of her chocolate hair, closing his eyes briefly to allow pure focus on the scent of beach the powerful-willed woman emitted.

‘You wouldn’t believe the asinine pricks that I have to deal with – you just sue people, try getting the wealthy to pay up’

Jordan smirked – he loved Nikes sense of humor. So black, so sarcastic.

The pair drew their arms back together and followed through – the ball sailing through into the clutches of the golfing net.

‘Two hundred and ten yards’

‘Someones been getting some practice’ he whispered into her ear, taking the risk to offer the slightest peck of his lips to the rim of her lobe. She did not resist, nor pull away – she only held his hands and drew them against her flat stomach, tilting her head to the side and offering the softness of her neck. Jordan could take a cue – his lips quickly gracing her skin with the most delicate kisses he could deliver.

‘Its all in a days work isn’t it,’ Nike spoke, her eyes closed and her mind drawing near to the brink of total enthrallment. She had wanted this all day.

‘the more we get, the more we seem to need’

‘Or the more you seem to want’ Jordan teased, having played this little game enough times to know what his secret partner wanted and how she wanted it.

The woman he held in his embrace only purred softly, the warmth of her body becoming his as the pair moved backwards and Neines found himself pushed into the comfort of his leather chair; Nike remaining on her feet.

‘I need it’ she spoke so softly, fearful that if she conversed above a whisper she might ruin the moment.

‘Tonight.’

The younger male tensed his muscles and sat upright, relaxing the positions of both his hands to one of scant-interest.

‘Turn around’ A firm command.

Nike obeyed; turning and coming to a stop when she faced the wall directly opposite her junior. Instinctively, she brought her feet to shoulder width.

‘Thong’ Another firm command.

Her eyes already closed, the swift beating of her heart threatening to spill her composure into a desperate pant, Nike fought against her base instincts and suspended her own pride so that she could indulge in what she so very desperately wanted and needed.

Reaching her long fingers down, the CEO held the bottom of her business skirt and hiked the fabric up her well muscled thighs – toned from years of fitness running. The bronze of her revealed skin grew up her parted legs as she felt a cool brush of air grace the bottom of her arse in the wake of her undressing – her excitement growing as she could feel Jordans hungry eyes devouring the sight of her well-sculptured behind as he was slowly treated to it. Finally raising the cotton to her waist – her taut buttocks pert and on show for a man five years her junior and two zeroes her annual-wage inferior – the only barrier left between the voracious young man and her decency was a thin, black silk thong.

‘You have a very nice behind.’ He complimented, reaching a strong hand forward and squeezing the left cheek. ‘You take very good care of your body’ was the final tip before he delivered a sharp slap – the brunette’s arse and legs tightening as she stood on her tippie toes and inhaled sharply from first contact, her muscles relaxing only slightly in the following seconds. She wanted more.

‘Do you want to show me more?’ Jordan asked, knowing full well the answer. He just wanted to hear it.

‘Yes’

‘Im not convinced’

‘Yes!’ Nike exclaimed, her desire to feel his strength pressing against her willing body only lengthening the thread of anticipation she used to traverse the maze of pleasure. ‘I want, to show you more’

Jordan was silent.

Taking her lead, the brunette slid her index fingers down her sides, hooking them beneath the thin fabric of her pitiful excuse of an undergarment. It was a diagonal hike down her thighs, her feets positioning at shoulder width seeing to that, and it was with a great eagerness that the economically powerful woman begun to offer herself to her man, the heart in her chest racing with the single desire to arouse the hungry animal inside him to snatch her up and take her.

The thin cords sank lower down her legs, the widest piece of silk that covered her bald vagina coming lose the further she took herself. Bending at the knee’s, and offering Jordan the first glimpses of her womanhood for the night, Nike pooled the thong around her feet and stepped out of them, straightening her back and legs slowly once she did so. The only thing covering her legs now was the panty hose she had walked in with.

‘Hands’ Jordan commanded.

The woman followed through, moving her hands behind her back and crossing them at the wrists. Seconds past and a ripple of sensation danced up her spine when Tiros felt Jordan moving so close to her – Nike’s senses finally registering the soft touch of black silk wrapping around her joined wrists and constricting to form binds that in another life she would never want undone. He had found a good use for her discarded thong.

Abruptly, Jordans strong hands latched onto Nikes hips and spun her about – the wanting-woman almost toppling over as she was unexpectedly caught off guard. Feeling a great pressure on her shoulders, she sunk to her knee’s before her mate, the desire in her eyes not lost upon a man that looked down at her from his seated position – a hand reaching down and grasping her by the hair to pull her right cheek against his left leg, her face only centimeters from his crotch.

‘What do you want?’ He asked simply, moving with his free hand to unfasten his belt and unloosen the fly on his business trousers.

Nike’s thoughts were too scrambled to offer an instant reply, to jumbled and dipped in her burning need to be conquered.

Jordan did not press further, instead leaving it up to his mate to know what to do – her hands sinking into pants and fishing for her burning desire – her fingers clasping her prize and producing her semi-erect penis.

Holding the organ at the base, she lavished her lips down its length, feeling the meat growing rigid and hard beneath the waves of her hungry attention. Signing softly, Jordan let go of Nikes hair to let her satisfy them both freely, her lips parting as she took his dick greedily and constricted her lips around the shaft; sinking her head and slurping inches of the warm phallus in her wet mouth. Moving her hand away, Tiros bobbed her head up and down, sucking like she were drinking from a thick straw, pressing her tongue firmly against the shaft and pivoting her mouth firmly around the cock; the head pressing stiffly against the insides of her cheeks and causing them to bulge.

Jordan moaned deeply, stroking his womans hair affectionately as she slurped noisily – pulling the cock out of her mouth and grasping it again at the base, bridges of spit drawn between her lips and the head. Slapping herself with his throbbing dick, the woman eagerly took it back into her mouth; sucking, slurping and drinking his manhood for the waves of pleasure it sent sinking between her thighs, the skin of her crotch glistening with the juice from an aroused woman hungry for more.

Abruptly pushing her off his cock, Jordan reached down and hauling the woman to her feet. Pushing his fingers between the holes in the front of her business shirt, he grasped the fabric and pulled; tearing the shirt open and displaying her bra-clad breasts and a panting chest; a yelp of half-surprise, half-joy escaping Nike’s lips, her entire mouth still glistening from the saliva of before.

Grasping her shoulders, Jordan roughly brought his woman to face his desk, her chest pushed forward from the bindings around her wrists still held behind her back. Forcing her forward, he bent her over the table, and his hand swiftly found her tight, firm arse, delivering the second sharp slap for the night and tensing the muscles in her legs.

Slap! Another well aimed spank, Crack! And another, and another, and another – Jordan held Nikes bindings with his left hand, spanking her arse with the other – each firm hard hit reacting a muscle tension and yelp, shriek or cry from his enthusiastic woman as he spanked, slapped, hit and smacked her arse to a cherry red – ceasing his actions to pull the belt from around his waist and double it over.

Bringing the improvised tool of punishment before Nikes face, she eagerly kissed and licked up its length, desiring only to christen the implement of her spanking – Jordan all to happy to enjoy the moment before bringing the belt back and introducing it to Nikes red arse, again and again, each delicious crack of the leather strap ringing in the bitches ears. Holding fast on his grip around her silk bindings, Jordan felt the lovely body of the woman squirm and writhe ever so deliciously beneath his attention, each Slap! and every Smack! that the belt kissed upon her fine skin doing little to deter the rock hard erection he soon planned to encase completely with Nike.

Panting like an animal, having removed his shirt and pants, the young lawyer let go of his belt and grabbed the older woman by the hair, hoisting her panting, sweating torso off his desk so that his mouth was to her ear – the rapid rise and fall of her now naked chest tantlising the man to no ends, her hard nipples standing to attention like beacons of her lust. Stationed behind her, Jordon slide his hard prick between Nike’s firm buttocks, the sensitive chocolate rosebud of her arsehole feeling so good and so tempting to the warm flesh of his manhood.

‘What do you want?!’ he growled forcefully in her ear, his heart racing and his blood stewing in anticipation of making this woman his.

‘Take me!’ she panted, locks of her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat ‘Take me! Make me yours!’

Her moans of lament were enough for him; he was ready.

Holding her hair in a vice like grip with one fist, he leaned back and positioned the head of his saliva-coated cock against the slit of her light brown womanhood – pushing his hips forward and easing himself into the hot passage way with a grunt of satisfaction from him, and a moan of gratification from her.

Thrusting his lance forward and deeper inside, Jordan felt the base of his cock press firmly against the lips of her pussy. Happy that he’d sunk himself balls deep, he pulled out and thrusted forward, holding his womans hair firmly and leaning his torso back; his hips thrusting back and forth, as he speared her with the full length of his dick; spurning on to greater heights of vigor by Nikes moans and wails of pleasure and the mental picture of those luscious love-globes bouncing back and forward under the strength of each thrust.

Letting go of her hair, the young man grasped Nikes trim waist with his strong hands and used the leverage to drive himself deeper and harder into her love-passage, the sweat building on his brow obscuring his vision as he allowed an animalistic, primal force to possess the strength in his hips to power into a woman eager and hungry for more – the lawyer building up momentum of in and out thrusts gathering more speed and power; the bent over accountant pushing herself back against his vigorous thrusts, moaning for more and craving penetration, before Jordan pulled himself out – his cock glistening with woman juice – and pulled Nike off of his desk, pushing her down roughly onto her knee’s and forcing his dick between her lips and against the back of her throat.

Instinctively closed against such a violative and penetrative idea, Nike warmed to such a display of subjugation, eagerly opening her throat and parting her lips as her man thrusted in and out of her mouth; the warm tunnel smothering his penis in a glove of hot flesh that tightened his balls and sent ecstatic shivers up his spine. His hard dick leveled straight like a spear and each thrust receiving a splatter of saliva against his balls, Jordan drove his dick home and felt his balls resting on Nikes chin – taking amazing satisfaction in burying his cock balls deep in another of his womans orifices. He held his position, Tirons throat constricted tightly around his meat and her thirst, her gluttonous burning, her rapacious craving to be destroyed and tamed delivered the man to new heights of felicitous bliss that he never thought possible.

Yanking his weapon free from Nikes throat, the woman doubled over in a gasp – air rushing into her lungs as she swiftly inhaled in the wake of her heart racing experience.

Her mouth and chin coated with spit, her eyes cindered pin points of wild lust, the brunette looked up at Jordan, who loomed tall and proud above her – his strong member standing erect and insatiable.

‘Im not finished with you yet…’ the younger man spoke through huffs and puffs, the strength of his heart tested both physically and emotionally to provide exactly what his woman wanted to fulfill her fantasy – to sate her desire.

With coarse movements, Jordan moved Nike to her feet once more, the CEO spun around by gruff hands and pushed against the glass of Jordans wall-window – her modest sized breasts flattening and her skin rippling with goosebumps from the chilling touch.

How many people could see her life this? How many people could witnessed her being ravished? How many people could be entertained by her body, cheering from their hidden alcoves for Jordan to make her his?

How many people would see her submit…

The questions that scratched inside her head only served to set her pussy ablaze – yes, they should see her like this! She wanted people, complete strangers, to see her like this…tits against the wall, and arse out ready to be taken to heaven and back! Nike wanted them to observe, to witness, that she – multi-millionaire and owner of Victory Accounting – was not just an Iron Maiden of profit-driven steel and determination, no, she was human – she was a woman – she was, like everyone else, a being of passion and strength, willing to offer herself to the man she adored, so that he could claim her and make her his – so that she could feel and experience that connection between lovers that made each the property of the other, bonded, intertwined and forever together.

Jordan entered her strongly from behind once more, grasping her waist and pressing her cheek against the window – her hot breath emerging as white vapor smeared across the transparent surface. Her body bounced back and forth against Jordans feral strength, her pussy constricting tightly around his organ and smothering her body with wave after wave of fiery ebullience. Her rode her, he drove her, he smacked her arse again and again, stirring her pussy into a frenzy of lust.

Then she begun to feel it – the quiet breath before the storm, as if all sensation drained away from her body, and the only nerves she had were centered in her pussy. Throbbing delectations expanded outwards as a tsunami swelled inside her and washed over her entire body – dipping her into hot throes of titillations and joy as she rode the billowing surge of a powerful orgasm, cumming with a soul-borne moan on the end of Jordans dick.

Descending the wave of bliss into the lake of reflection, Nike found herself on her knee’s before her man – the younger male stroking his length furiously, his eyes closed and his face contorted into a mask of pure euphoric glory as his hand shot to the base of his prick and jets of white painted Nikes face with the warm, sticky ichor of cum – showing mercy enough that her eyes remained untouched as to gaze upon the face of her lover and watch him eased down the strands of pleasure, his toned shoulders and chest rising and falling as they heaved to pump air into his lungs and blood through his warm body.

Collapsing into his chair exhausted, Jordon’s sweat-laced body recovered on its own – Nike taking the opportunity to take his penis into her mouth once more to clean it, her initiative garnering a warm smile from her closed-eyed partner. She took the moments to savor the taste of his penis, knowing that there would be many more times to do so, but content with the precious knowledge that each mote of loved shared was a unique thing to cherish. She brought her lips up and tightened them around the base of the head – taking some moments to suck firmly on the most sensitive part of his body. He didn’t show it, but Nike could feel his gratitude.

Using his bathroom to clean herself up and change, Nike Toris returned into Jordans office to find him fully clothed again; pulling a tie around his neck and offering a warm, gentle smile at the sight of her. The two embraced and touched lips, each knowing that they belonged to the other.

‘Want these back?’ Jordan asked, motioning to the black thong still resting on his desk.

Nike only smiled a very human smile ‘Keep them’ she spoke, making her way towards the glass doors.

‘Oh and, Jordan?’ she stopped and provoked, causing Neine to look up from the draw he had just pushed the thong-turned-improvised restraint into.

‘My office next time…and make sure you wear a very stretchy pair of boxers’

With a teasing smirk and a baiting wink, Nike Toris disappeared behind closed doors.