Office Quickie



The tinkle of glass signals the death of another lamp as he’s thrown onto the desk, but Lex is rich and even if he weren’t, he wouldn’t care, because Clark is tugging off his pants and pushing up his shirt and staring hungrily at the flesh exposed. Lex’s cock throbs under that heady gaze, rising up on its own and begging with beads of pre-cum. Clark smiles with sharp fangs and the papers under Lex’s butt scratch as he squirms like prey.

Clark strikes, mouth latching on to the crease of Lex’s thigh and groin, and sucks a bruise into existence. Lex’s head flings back, skull cracking on the stapler, and it ends up on the floor with a sweep of his hands, along with the pencil caddy, paperweight, and stack of disks. Clark doesn’t stop to ask if Lex is all right; he’s learned well.

Another bruise, marred with a ring of teeth, appears below Lex’s navel, as Clark’s nose fucks the shallow hole. His legs dangle off the desk, the desk pad digging into the backs of his thighs, and he knows he’s going to have ink print on his ass and sweaty ass stains on his papers, and he grins when he remembers he was working on a report for his father.

The grin vanishes with an, "Oh, God," as Clark attacks his cock with short little licks. Lex raises his head and looks down the length of his body into wicked green-blue eyes. Clark’s cocksucker mouth opens wide and swallows Lex whole, and Lex hisses as he slides right into Clark’s throat. The dark head bobs over his lap, and its hot and wet and dirty, with a pornographic slurp-suck, slurp-suck, slurp-suck, until he comes with a grunt and Clark drinks him all.

Lex collapses back on the desk in post-orgasmic lassitude and listens to the rasp of denim being lowered. The desk drawer opens and closes, and the ever-present lubricant squishes and farts as the tube is squeezed, making him snicker. He hears an echoing chuckle, and then his legs are lifted and parted wide, and a slick, blunt tip probes his asshole.

The stroke inside burns as it stretches, and Clark waits a moment once he’s buried to the hilt in Lex’s ass. Lex breathes out slowly, sphincter muscles relaxing, recognizing the intruder. He lifts his arms above his head again, grips the edge of the desk, and wiggles until the pen under his shoulder blade shifts into a more comfortable position. Clark moans Lex’s name like it’s a hundred syllables long instead of one, and the fingers supporting his legs dig into his skin.

Clark barely moves when he makes the first thrust, staying deep within Lex’s body. But the second thrust is brutal, and the third full and hard, and Lex holds on to the desk as his insides are rearranged by Clark's cock. Lex’s legs flop with every punishing stroke, feet in the air with no support, and the black socks look ridiculous when Lex catches sight of them, so he shifts his focus to Clark.

Clark’s face is twisted in a snarl, eyes squeezed shut, as he pounds into Lex, searching for release. When it hits, he slams flush against Lex’s ass, bodies colliding with a loud slap, and Lex knows he won’t be sitting down for the rest of the day. Clark’s cock pulses deep inside Lex, and he shudders fully as he unloads.

Lex watches as Clark returns to earth, lets go of the breath he is holding with a blissful sigh, and drops forward onto Lex. Lex oomphs and cracks and pops, and pretends he’s not getting too old to be having sex on his desk at work, as he wraps his arms around Clark in a post-coital cuddle, his black sock-clad feet still flopping in the air.



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