Chapter Text
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The new transfer from the New York office is a well-dressed, fast-talking orc. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and wears a well tailored suit better than any man you’ve seen before. Your eyes follow him across the office as he introduces himself to everyone. His haircut probably cost what you make in a week. He moves with the assurance of a man who has found his place in the world. He fills his suit well, and you desperately want to know what’s under it.
He stops at your desk, and you can’t help letting your gaze drag along his form as you look up and up until you can meet his eyes. He’s smiling, and there’s something dark and knowing in his gaze.
“I’m Alexander,” he says, offering his hand to shake. His palm dwarfs yours, and you feel a shiver travel down your spine. A jolt of pure want assaults you.
You know you manage to say the right things, tell him your name, exchange a few well wishes for your ability to work together in the future, because the VP traveling with him as they cross the floor toward the roomy corner office smiles. As soon as he’s gone, you can’t remember a word of what you’ve said, and for the rest of the day you don’t manage to get a single thing done.
For obvious reasons, you see him around the office, but it sometimes seems like you bump into him a lot more than average. There’s the inevitable small talk, but there are a lot of opportunities to just look at him and appreciate the view. He definitely notices, and you catch him watching you as well. The small talk becomes more flirtatious, but mostly it stays light.
One Monday morning, your boss lets you know you’re being moved to a new desk. Something to do with Joseph from accounting leaving and management wanting to take the opportunity to shift where team members sit. You’re not overly concerned; you don’t have a lot of personal effects and everything else should transfer automatically when you login.
It’s a pretty sweet setup, if you’re honest. You’re more out of the way than you were in your old cubicle; you’re further from the elevators and things, closer to the small break-room that you prefer, and since you’re near the end of the corridor, you don’t get a lot of traffic. So, while some of your coworkers are bitching about the shuffle, you’re pretty content back here.
Alexander seems to be nearby even more than he has been in the past several weeks, and in the afternoon, you finally realize that your nice secluded cubicle is right across the corridor from his office. It seems you’ll be seeing a lot more of the handsome orc. Things are definitely looking up.
Mid-morning Tuesday is when you realize two things. The first is that when the blinds are open in Alexander’s office, he has a clear line of sight from his desk to where you sit at yours. The second is that he is watching you.
You’re taking a moment to stretch, your arms above your head, with your back arched and your breasts sort of jutting out when you notice that he’s staring. He doesn’t look away, or pretend to be doing something else, and you see him smirk at you.
If you’re a little more deliberate with the way you move, if your pencil skirt, which is a completely appropriate length normally, is hiked a little further up when you sit down, so he can just see the line of lace at the top of your nylons, you’ll never admit to it.
On Wednesday, when you get up to refill your coffee, you glance over at him. He’s on the phone, leaning back in his chair, one hand behind his head, the other holding a pen that he’s drumming against a legal pad in his lap. He’s focused on whatever’s being discussed, so you allow yourself a moment to really enjoy the view.
His suit jacket is hanging on a hook by the door, his sleeves are rolled up, revealing powerful forearms, with just a hint of black tattoo ink visibly curling over his gray-green skin. His hands are large, seeming to dwarf anything he holds. The pen he taps in rapid staccato against the yellow paper is tiny by comparison.
He shifts in his chair, and you realize he’s caught you staring. His brow quirks up. You raise your empty mug to him and gesture, as if you were merely thinking of getting him one as well. The smile he offers you in return is too knowing, but all he does in response is mouth the words ‘yes please.’
You have no idea how he takes his coffee, though you do know he does drink it. He usually has the fancier mugs from the management lounge upstairs, or paper cups from the cafe in the lobby, though. In the tiny kitchenette you fill a mug– the most ridiculous one you can find, featuring a curly-lettered inspirational phrase– and grab a couple packets of creamer and sugar just in case.
He’s just wrapping up his phone call when you get back. He hangs up the phone with a relieved sigh and his entire attention is on you when you hold out the coffee.
“Thank you,” he says, taking the mug from you. He reads the side and rolls his eyes with a snort. “I appreciate the erm… encouragement.”
“I thought you’d enjoy that one in particular,” you say, passing him the cream and sugar you brought. “I wasn’t sure how you like your coffee.”
“Black is usually fine, but if the coffee from this breakroom is anything like in the New York office…” he takes a sip and grimaces. You stifle a laugh. “Yep. With cream is good here. Thank you.”
“I expect you to return the favor at some point,” You say. “I like my coffee with cream and sugar.”
You turn away from him them to head back to your desk. Maybe you put a bit more swing in your hips than you normally would, hoping he appreciates the view. It’s been a while since you’ve been around anyone interesting enough to be worth teasing.
Thursday morning he delivers coffee to you, some of the good stuff from upstairs, lightened with cream and sugar. He leans over you to set it on your desk, brushing against you in the process. Alexander is definitely looking down your shirt, you realize. You smile up at him coyly.
“Thank you.” You murmur. You take a sip, and make a small noise of pleasure. This coffee is far superior to the stuff down here.
“Of course,” He says with another of those sexy smiles. “I had to make sure you were taken care of.”
When you get back from lunch he’s leaning against your cubicle, a folder in his hand. He very slowly looks you up and down, heat in his gaze. It’s a caress, and you’re glad you wore one of your more daring outfits today. You get closer to him than you need to when you enter your cubicle, just brushing against him.
He smells good. All warm man and expensive cologne. You want to lick him.
Instead, you take your seat, and turn to face him, crossing your legs very deliberately in front of him, teasing him with a glance and letting your skirt slip further up your thigh than you would otherwise allow.
He audibly swallows, his gaze locked on your thighs. You decide to push the envelope further, and shift in your seat, causing the fabric of what is otherwise an entirely appropriate work skirt to drift high enough that he can see where your garter belt fastens to the lace of your stockings.
“Can I help you, Alexander?” You purr.
All at once he seems to remember himself. The look he gives you is positively smoldering. You feel yourself get wet in response.
He steps into your cubicle, making the space seem incredibly small. One large hand grabs the back of your chair and spins you to face your computer monitor, before he places a file on your desk and leans over you. His arms cage you in, his cheek nearly brushes yours.
“You are a very bad girl,” he murmurs into your ear. His voice is deep, rougher than it usually is, and oh gods you want to hear him like this more often. “Bad girls who continue to tease me may find themselves punished.”
You barely manage to stifle a moan, and you know he hears the hitch in your breathing. His tusk brushes against your cheek, and you shiver all over, remembering that Alexander is a very largeorc. You shift in your seat, pressing your thighs together tightly.
Across the office, a door opens and shuts as others begin returning from lunch. You feel his stance shift, and suddenly he is not looming quite so much, the distance between you is far more professional.
“I’d appreciate if you could look this over for me,” The tone of his voice is controlled, and though it’s not quite normal, it’s not what it was just moments before. He taps the file he’s placed on your desk. Then, he scribbles a phone number down on a post-it. “If you have any questions, just text me. My phone is usually near me.”
“Sure thing,” you say. Thankfully, your voice is fairly level. “I’ll get on that as soon as I can.”
“Thanks,” Alexander doesn’t say anything else, instead returning to his office. He closes the door behind himself, and when you glance over, you notice the blinds are closed.
You allow yourself to imagine him leaning back in his chair and undoing his pants. He’d release a large erection, just a shade darker green than the rest of him. He’d stroke it, thinking of you, of your lace stockings and the way you’ve been teasing him. In your fantasy, he has a pair of your panties in his other fist, and he smells them. You bite your lip, and shake your head to clear that thought.
You’re going to be useless for the rest of the day if you can’t clear your head. Imagining him masturbating in his office, just a few feet away from you isn’t going to help that at all. You fight the temptation to slip away to the ladies’ room and deal with your own arousal. Instead, you choose to drag out this sweet torture, you focus on the words on your screen, determined to get more work done.
There’s a spreadsheet, and a word document, and both of them are important. You need to finish these up and get them emailed to the right people. You manage to get a little bit of work done, despite the fact that your mind keeps drifting back to a certain gorgeous green man in the office behind you.
It takes about half an hour for you to give in and text him.
You >> What sort of punishment?
You set the phone down, and try to get more work done. The second it vibrates on the desk though, you grab it.
Alex >> That ass of yours definitely needs a spanking.
Oh fuck. You imagine yourself stretched across his lap, those huge hands of his spanking you. You squirm in your seat, and glance at the clock. Two hours until you can go home.
You’re not going to make it. Fuck this. You grab your phone, lock your computer, and head to the bathroom. You lock the door behind you and immediately shove your hand in your panties. Yep. Dripping wet. Soaked through. You slide your fingers over your clit, your hips thrusting helplessly. It doesn’t take much for an orgasm to crash over you.
You swallow your screams. You have to be quiet. You keep stroking, wringing another orgasm out of yourself, quick on the heels of the first as you imagine him standing there watching you touch yourself like this.
It doesn’t take too long for your heartbeat to slow back down and your breathing to calm. You clean yourself up as best you can. You remove your soaked panties, tucking the lace-edged cotton into your pocket.
Only a few short minutes have passed since you left your desk, and already you have ideas of how to escalate this inappropriate game of yours. Thursday afternoons, the managers have a meeting in the conference room on the fifth floor. Alexander is stuck in that meeting for at least the next half hour if the meeting doesn’t run long.
When you return to your desk, you’re pleased to see that he is not in his office, and the blinds are still drawn. You slip in quickly, and deposit the blue-and-white polka-dot fabric in the second drawer down in his desk. It’s nearly empty, which assures you that he seldom checks this drawer.
You’re hard at work at your desk when he returns to his office about an hour later. You glance up at him and smile, but make it clear that you’re busy. You want him to be in there so he can find your present as soon as possible. It’s difficult, you’re not sure how you do it, but you wait a few minutes for him to settle in before you text him.
You >> Check the second drawer.
Alex >> You are a very bad girl.
Alex >> [Photo of his fist holding your panties, which look very tiny.]
Alex >> Get in here.
You >> What’s the magic word?
Alex >> Please.
You glance around the office. About a third of the people on this floor have already headed home– they come in early, they leave early– and everyone still here seems to be hard at work. You pick up a file and head over to Alexander’s office as though everything is normal. You knock, and enter without waiting for a response.
“Lock it,” his voice is rough. Demanding. You do as he says without hesitation. “Come here.”
You cross the office, enjoying the way he watches you, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth set in a firm line. You step into the space between his thighs, and find that with you standing and him seated, your eyes are almost level.
“Before this goes any further, are you sure this is what you want?” He asks.
“Yes,” you say. You have actually given it thought. He’s your superior, but he’s not in your direct chain of command. He’s proven to be professional– you’ve had to sit through a few meetings with him, and while he’s flirtatious when it’s just the two of you, he’s never crossed a line anywhere it could actually hurt your career– and you find that you trust him.
“Pick a safe word,” he says, drawing you closer, until your body is actually pressed against his.
“Fraternization,” you say.
He snorts, his head falling forward to rest against your sternum. You give into the urge to run your fingers through his hair, mussing his incredibly expensive haircut. His hair is soft, the strands like silk.
“Pick a word you can say when you’re stuffed with cock,” he says, not moving his head, allowing you to continue stroking his hair. His voice is that deep rumble again, rich with need and you love the sound of it. His words are just enough to make you shiver, which makes him chuckle.
“How about teapot,” you don’t think you’ll find yourself in a situation where you’ll be uttering that by accident.
“Should be good,” He cups your jaw, and draws you to him, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that you know you have both been thinking about for a while. His tongue is almost immediately there, pressing against the seam of your lips, demanding entrance. You moan, and then he’s thrusting into your mouth in a hot promise of what is to come.
Alexander skims one hand downward, trailing it along your neck, the side of one breast, your waist, your hip. He grabs your ass, eliciting another moan. He chuckles into your mouth and deepens the kiss. The hand grabbing your ass squeezes tighter, and you squirm.
He breaks the kiss, and lifts you onto the desk. When his lips find your neck, and his tusks scrape against the sensitive skin, you moan again. He growls, and you whimper. Your hands are still tangled in his hair, you use it to draw him closer. You feel his teeth nibble on you, and you make a noise that he seems to appreciate because there’s another low rumble.
He pulls back, and looks at you again, his breath coming in ragged pants. His skin is flushed, a darker green than normal, his pupils are dilated with desire. You’ve done this to him. It makes you feel powerful, to have brought this giant orc to this point.
“I owe you a punishment, but I’m not sure that this office is soundproofed enough,” he says. “So get on your knees.”
You lower yourself slowly, not wanting to hurt yourself. You hike your skirt up to allow you to spread your legs a bit wider, to make the position more comfortable. The position reveals the top of your stockings, and part of your garters to him. Alexander eyes the area with interest.
He shifts in his chair, and your eyes go to the massive tent in his pants. He undoes his belt, and releases his erection from his trousers. His cock is bigger than you’d imagined, a darker green than you expected. It’s large, thick, and veiny. There’s a piercing. Ooh, you hadn’t anticipated that. You want to lick it.
You lean forward, eager to touch. Your fingers are mere inches from his cock when he speaks.
“Good girls ask,” he rumbles.
“May I please touch?” You manage to murmur, looking up at him through your lashes. You’re certain you look quite the sight right now, with your lips red from kissing, your skin flushed, and your skirt hiked up around your hips as you kneel at his feet.
“Only with your mouth,” he says.
It’s enough for you. You’re moving forward, pressing your palms into his firm thighs and holding yourself up as you stroke him with your tongue. He’s warm, and a bit salty with sweat, but it’s not unpleasant. Rather, you find yourself wanting more, licking hungrily along his length. His fingers find the clip in your hair, letting it loose before they tangle in it, grabbing a fistful and using it to guide you to the tip.
You open your lips wide, managing to take his cock into your mouth, but only just barely. You bob your head with enthusiasm, taking more of him with each move. You know your jaw is going to be sore, but this is worth it. He groans.
“You’re doing so good,” he murmurs, his voice ragged. “Mmmm, you’ve been dying to taste this all day, haven’t you?”
When you don’t respond, he tugs on your hair, pulling you back, away from his cock. You moan. He’s so deliciously large, and you want to please him, want to drive him crazy so he bends you over his desk and he fucks you. You imagine the stretch and the pleasant burn that will come with it. You meet his eyes, and you can see the desire there.
“When I ask you a question, I want a response,” He growls, his voice is rough, dark and you can hear the lust in every syllable. He trails his fingers over your cheek gently. “Have you been thinking about my cock?”
“Yes,” You manage to gasp. “I was thinking about you in this chair, jerking yourself off and thinking about me.”
“Mmm, I did do that,” He presses your face back toward his cock. “I thought about this, about having a dirty little slut kneeling between my knees, sucking me off, dealing with the hard-ons she’s been giving me all week. Your endless teasing, fuck.” You suck hard on his dick, and his voice breaks. “I’ve imagined you bent over my desk, too. I’ve imagined eating you out, feasting on that delicious pussy, and then you gave me your panties and I now I know how you smell.
“What a dirty girl you are.”
You moan in earnest as he presses your head down, gently, just enough to test the waters. You go willingly, so he presses harder, and his massive cock hits the back of your throat. You fight the urge to gag, swallowing around him. But you can’t quite handle it. You tap his thigh and pull back. Spit trails from your lips to his cock.
“Are you alright?” He asks, all gentle concern. You nod, and lean forward, but he stops you with a gentle tug to your hair.
“Yeah,” you say when you realize he’s waiting for you to speak.
He pulls you up and kisses you hard. His lips are demanding, bruising. You love it.
“Turn around, lift your skirt and bend over the desk,” You do as he says, placing your palms flat on the wood. He runs his finger along your slit which is positively dripping with need. “Look at this beautiful little pussy. Do you want me to touch you?”
“Please,” you say, wiggling toward him. He smacks your ass quickly, not hard, but it’s enough to shock you into stillness. You bite back a moan.
“Hold still. Be quiet.” His finger parts your folds and finds your clit. It’s like a bolt of electricity through your body. You spasm, and have to bite your lip to keep in a scream. He strokes it again, and you nearly collapse against his desk. You’re so fucking close. “Are you going to cum?”
“Yes,” you whisper. He presses a finger into you, filling you, then there’s two, and you’re stretching around him. You’re so wet there’s no resistance. His thumb strokes your clit again, and you’re falling apart, shaking and nearly seeing stars you come so hard.
“Fuck, baby, that’s beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing kisses against the back of your thighs and your ass.“Such a good girl.”
“Look at me,” he says. You turn your head, responding more to the ragged need in his voice than the words themselves. His hand is glistening with your juices, and he’s stroking his cock with it. He’s pulled his shirt up over his belly, and it’s so fucking hot watching him touch himself. “You’re so fucking hot, I’ve thought about doing this. Touched myself to thoughts of you, and here I am, on the edge and you’re right here in front of me finally.”
“Cum for me,” you say, and he does. Spurts of white goop splatter all over his belly. You rise from his desk, leaning over him and giving him another kiss on his lips. You let your lips trail over his neck, and very deliberately leave a hickey below his collar, marking him. Then you drop back down to your knees and lick his belly clean.
“You’re amazing,” he murmurs, “So fucking good.”
Alexander pulls you up for a gentle kiss this time, and helps you straighten out your clothes and your hair. He reassures you that you look exactly as you did when you walked in, and he gives you a stack of folders to justify having been in his office for this long.
You help him straighten up his clothes, too. You smooth his tie down, and ensure that his hair is once again combed into his precise style.
You’re both absolutely professional.
Except for your panties in his pocket, but that’s your little secret.