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The Perfect Crime

The Perfect Crime

First, Happy Birthday to Kayla Lord’s Masturbation Monday, which turns two today! Two years of hot diggety damn stories? Wow. Ya’ll might want to dig into the archives, I’m sure there are some gems you would like to read again.

Speaking of archives, the following story made an appearance on my blog before, but I’ve had it tucked away for a bit. Resurrecting it now to help celebrate this great meme. Thank you, Kayla, for helping us all stay dirty!

And now, I give you, “The Perfect Crime”:

Keeping up a sexy appearance while you’re struggling with a tiny foil packet is pretty damn difficult. My sweaty fingers couldn’t get a decent grip, and the little notch that’s there to help you open the fucking thing was hiding from me. The fact that a very eager, very hot man was staring at me with pleading eyes and a gigantic erection only made matters worse.

“Do you need help?” he asked, reaching for the condom.

“No, no, I am perfectly capable-”

“Really, I can open that for you.”

I smiled at him before gracefully tearing open the package with my teeth. Okay, I lied, there was nothing graceful about it, especially when the strip of the foil I tore off cemented itself against my bottom lip, and no amount of huffing would get rid of it. Finally, I scraped it off my lip with my teeth, turned my head and spit it into a corner like the dainty debutante that I am.

“There.” I placed the condom over the tip of his engorged cock. Damn the man had a spectacular unit, long and thick and perfectly manscaped. I longed to see the rest of his body but we didn’t have time to get naked. “Um, something’s wrong,” I said. The condom wouldn’t roll down.

“Let me-”

“No, no, I can do this.”

I pushed against the slick latex dome but the damn thing wouldn’t budge. Wordlessly, he took the condom, flipped it over, and then rolled it down until it completely encased his cock. The reservoir tip looked a little silly, almost as if his dick was wearing a party hat and I couldn’t help but giggle.

“It’s not nice to laugh at a man’s dick, you know,” he said with a smile.

“Um, no, I wasn’t laughing at your, um-”

He put two fingers over my lips. “Are you ready?”

Was I ready? Hell yes, I was ready. My pussy was dripping down to my knees. “Yes, how should we-”

“Maybe if you turn around and bend over the copy machine?”

“Sure, great.”

My legs trembled, more out of excitement than anything. I felt his cock nudging against my pussy, but it couldn’t seem to find its target.

“Can you raise up a little higher?” he asked.

“Sure.” My calves burned as I got up on my tiptoes, and I made a mental note to spend more time at the gym. “How’s this?”

“Fuck yeah, that’s perfect.”

His sheathed cock slid home, stealing my breath and making me tingle all over. Damn, I love it when a nice hard dick spreads me open and fills me up. Things were getting good when a cramp in my right leg brought the festivities to a screeching halt.

“Owowowow! Stop, stop!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Cramp.” I stamped my foot until the spasm subsided. “It’s these damn shoes.”

“We don’t have much time-”

“We need a better position. Here, I’ll get on top of the copy machine.” I climbed aboard and put my legs in the air. One of my stilettos was missing and my panties dangled from the heel of the other one. I felt ridiculous but the need for a good fuck won out. “How’s this?”

He grinned. “Fucking hot!” The smile fell off his face when he tried to enter me. “Shit, I can’t reach.”

I spotted a squat but sturdy looking box in the corner. “There, that carton over there, can you stand on that?”

He nudged it into position with his foot, and then stepped on to it. “Yeah, perfect. You ready?”

I licked my lips and spread wider. “Fuck me.”

Once again, he slid his hard dick inside me, and once again, I was gripped in pleasure. Only it was better this time, I could see his face. Damn he was hot, with longish brown hair and a neck tattoo. The patch on his shirt said “Brian”, and the expression on his face told me he was enjoying the ride as much as me.

“What’s your name?”

“Lucy.” He pushed up my bra and was just about to play with my nipples when a loud knock broke our solitude. “What?!?”

“Lucy, is that you? I need to use the copy machine.”

The shrill voice belonged to Debbie, secretary to the dean of the university, and the biggest blabbermouth on the planet. Brian tried to pull away, but I crossed my ankles behind his back and held him tight. He received the message loud and clear and continued thrusting.

“I’m going to be awhile, come back later.” I hoped I didn’t sound as breathless as I really was.

“How much longer?”

Brian grinned and held up five fingers. “Really, that’s all?” I whispered.

“Tell her ten,” Brian whispered back. He started stroking my clit with his thumb.

“Twenty minutes,” I shouted at the locked door.

“Really, that long? Dean Winston needs these copies right away.” Debbie, what a whiner.

“Twenty minutes!” I shrieked.

Nothing was going to get in between me and my orgasm. Not Debbie, not her uptight boss, not even Bob the campus security guard. Brian had a steady rhythm going, and between that and his thumb, I was on the edge of the pool and about to dive in.

“Fuck, yes,” I hissed. “That’s it, right there. Mmm, don’t stop.”

“You like that, baby?”

“Harder, fuck me harder.” I twisted both of my nipples, while Brian picked up the pace. “Yeah, that’s it, ride mama nice and hard.”


“Shut up and fuck me!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The glorious thrusting, the rubbing thumb, the view of a hot man between my legs, the sound of the copy machine banging against the wall, at that moment, I figured I was most likely going to get fired, but I didn’t care. Sometimes, the need for a good hard fuck takes precedence over other things, like paying rent or buying groceries. Then for one brief intoxicating moment, reality melted away and I fell into ecstasy. Brian winced as my pussy clamped down on his cock.

“So fucking tight, wow.” He froze, then rested his forehead against my knee and whimpered. “Holy fuck, that was good. Damn.”

Reality picked me up and body slammed me onto the mat, then wrestled me into a headlock. “Shit! Get dressed, quick.”

Brian yanked off the spent condom and tossed it into a trashcan. I hopped off the machine, and did my best to put my outfit back together.

“My shoe, where’s my other shoe?”

“Beats me.” Brian tucked in his polo shirt and zipped his pants.

I found my other shoe under a chair, along with the condom wrapper, which I stuffed into Brian’s pocket. “Take that with you, hide the evidence.”

“Good idea, babe.” He pulled me close and gave me a scorching kiss. “Can we do this again sometime?”

“Next Wednesday, same time, same place?” I asked, slipping my foot into my orphan shoe.

Brian grinned. “It’s a date.” He picked up the empty toner cartridge and glanced around the copy room. “We covered our tracks, right?”

“Yup, we did good.”

We shared a fist bump before he made a quick exit. I made a copy of a letter I found in the recycling bin and placed it on top of a large stack of blank paper. I was carrying the pile when I ran into Debbie on the way back to my cubicle.

“Machine’s all yours,” I said sweetly as I sashayed past.

Back in my cubicle, I chugged down a bottle of water and smiled over the perfect crime I had just committed. Until a terrifying visual hit my brain like a lightning bolt. The trashcan in the copy room. The trashcan that had been empty. The trashcan that now held a still warm, full condom.

I sighed as I pulled up the help wanted ads on my computer.


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