Erotic Tale: Office Play

By: Victoria Bleu

“Patrice, tell Jada to come to my office.”

“Right away, Mr. Walker.”

Moments later, the Oakwood office door opened—no knock, no hesitation.

Jada stepped in like she owned square footage. Tall. Brown-skinned legs for days, wrapped in an Ann Taylor black skirt suit that knew exactly what it was doing. So Kate Louboutins clicked against the floor like punctuation marks—final, unapologetic. Her hair was bone-straight, shoulder-length, parted clean down the middle, tucked neatly behind her ears to reveal diamond studs that caught the light every time she moved. When her almond-shaped eyes met his, something unspoken passed between them.

Everyone knew the rules in Mr. Walker’s River view office: knock, wait, be invited.

Everyone except Jada.

She moved to her own rhythm. Always had. And that—her refusal to bow, her habit of challenging power—was exactly what Mr. Walker found dangerous, yet admirable and irresistible.

Her presence was no-nonsense. Perfect posture. Chin lifted. Right eyebrow permanently flirting with the sky. Jada didn’t walk—she strode. Didn’t enter rooms—she claimed them.

“Good afternoon, sir,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You need something?”

“Yes, Jada,” Mr. Walker replied, calm but watching her closely. “I can’t seem to locate the Parker file.”

Jada crossed the room allowing her signature Baccarat Rogue perfume to linger throughout the office. With a thousand tasks to complete, Jada was a bit annoyed. A high-powered attorney acting as an assistant to another high-powered attorney!

"You should really train your assistant on how to actually assist you!" suggested Jada. As she took over his mouse to begin locating the Parker file, she stated, "I swear you're the most brilliant idiot I know.”

He stood, giving her space. “If I knew everything, why would I need partners and staff?”

She smirked. "Touche!"

Jada was slightly bent over with the sun beaming down on her. Shining light on the curve of her body. Mr. Walker grabbed his stress ball off his desk and paced his spacious office, slow and deliberate.

"Do you give your husband a hard time like you do me?" he asked.

Jada didn’t look up. “Mr. Walker, I would never marry a man who needs help zipping his own pants.”

He chuckled. "Please Jada! You've been eyeing me since we met! You did right though––married a man in college with a promising future. You're set for life but yet, here you are––a partner at Walker & Associates."

She straightened, walked around the desk, barely sitting on the edge. Legs crossed. Arms folded. Smirk locked and loaded.

"I didn't bust my ass at FAMU Law––tutoring you, might I add––just to be a rich man's wife. Need I remind you, this firm would not be the top criminal law practice in the country if I was just some man's wife!? Matter of fact, you need to show me more appreciation!"

“The bonus wasn’t enough?” he asked.

"Hell no. That was back pay. I need to sue your ass for uncompensated hours!" Jada said.

They laughed, tension snapping but not breaking.

“Man, find the file,” he said.

She turned back, hips swaying with intention whether she meant to or not.

Mr. Walker sat back in his leather chair, square to the desk, legs spread in a posture that looked relaxed but wasn’t. His left arm rested easy on the chair’s arm, while his right hand worked the stress ball fast and intense—like it owed him money. He focused on the squeeze, the release, anything to keep control. But Jada stood there, just across from him, leaning slightly over the desk, and the view was a problem. Her blouse dipped just enough, offering a clear, unapologetic line of cleavage that caught the light every time she shifted. It was the kind of distraction that made discipline feel like a full-time job—and he was failing the interview.

"What else you'll make me do?" Mr. Walker’s asked seductively.

Her eyes flared. Nearly burning a hole through his face. “I know your married ass isn’t getting fresh.”

Mr. Walker stood, walking towards Jada to close the distance. "We're both married. We both have a lot to lose. But somehow, we both are feeling each other. Tell me I'm lying!"

Jada stood tall, spine straight, feet planted—holding her ground even as everything inside her shifted. Mr. Walker was just to her left, close enough that she could smell him. Tom Ford—warm, expensive, unmistakably him—rose from his collar, mixing with the heat trapped in his tailored suit. It curled around her senses before she could stop it. He’s so damn fine, the thought slipped in uninvited, quick and dangerous. She shut it down just as fast. A thought wasn’t a sin. And Jada was many things, but she wasn’t a cheater.

Still, weeks of neglect had left her skin humming, starved for attention, for touch. She stared straight ahead like discipline lived in her posture, even as her body betrayed her. She glanced over her shoulder despite herself—and there he was. Bald head catching the light, rich chocolate skin, standing a solid six feet of temptation, eyes locked on her with a hunger he wasn’t bothering to hide. Her breath hitched. Fuck. Those eyes. They had always been her weakness, ever since college. And standing there now, feeling seen in a way she hadn’t in weeks, resisting him felt less like a choice and more like a fight she wasn’t sure she could win.

"Ever since our first night, you vowed to be my forever girlfriend. Are you taking that away from me?" Mr. Walker questioned.

"We're not kids anymore! I'll be in my office." Jada said. She put distance between them, but he grabbed her waist and closed it.

"Baby don't do this to me now!" Mr. Walker grabbed her hand and placed it on his third leg.

 "You see what you do to me? For weeks you been crying about that nigga always working and not giving you some grown attention! Let me fix that."

Feeling Mr. Walker’s extra strength pressed against her sent a sudden weakness through her knees, the kind that made her breath stutter before she could catch it. He turned her gently but firmly until she was facing him, and before doubt could surface, his full lips claimed hers—slow, deep, familiar. Her tongue melted into his like it had been waiting, like it remembered exactly where it belonged. His hands slid up her skirt with purpose, finding the heat waiting beneath red lace, fingers lingering just long enough to make her ache.

Then he lifted her—effortless—and set her on top of his cherrywood desk, the keyboard shoved aside as if it had never mattered. He paused, just for a second, eyes sweeping over her like he was committing her to memory, before dropping to his knees. Instantly, his face disappeared between her thighs. His tongue traced her through the thong, unhurried, and Jada opened herself wider, skirt pushed high on her waist, bare skin pressed against the warm desk. A soft gasp escaped her as she reached down, fingers settling into the smooth curve of his bald head, holding him there—not forcing, just begging him not to stop.

"Oh baby!" Jada cried out. "I'm never leaving you!"

Something about her saying that snapped something loose in him. The air around Mr. Walker shifted—hungrier, darker. He dragged his mouth lower, sucking the center of her ass slow and deep until her body jolted. At the same time, he slid two of his thick fingers inside her, curling and swirling with intention. Jada’s body reacted before her mind could—hips twitching, thighs tightening like they wanted to flee the sensation—and he felt it, felt her fighting herself.

He rose to his feet, breathing heavy, eyes dark. One by one, he unbuttoned her suit jacket, peeling it open to reveal the red lace beneath. He bit his lip like he was holding himself back, then pulled her closer, guiding her a few inches to the right, bending her forward over the desk. The sharp smack of his hand against her ass echoed in the room, heat blooming instantly. Her right leg lifted on instinct, finding the edge of the desk as he pushed into her, claiming the space—and her—with a force that made resistance feel pointless.

He moved slowly, sliding in and out of her with patience that felt almost cruel. Each pull back made her ache; each deep press forward filled her until her breath caught. The wetter she became, the harder he felt inside her, his control thinning with every measured stroke. He hated how long it had been—how much he’d missed this—so he took his time, dragging the moment out, letting it build, making up for every lost night.

Then, mid-stroke, he reached into his desk and pulled out a small bottle of silicone lube. Before she could register it, he withdrew from her completely.

“Baby—stop!” Jada gasped, twisting toward him, body already protesting the absence. “Put it back in… now.”

Mr. Walker smacked her booty cheeks hard as he squeezed the lube onto his already slick length. The sharp sound cracked through the room, heat blooming instantly where his hand had landed. He dropped the bottle without a second thought and spread the lube with quick, practiced strokes, mixing it with what was already there—warm, sticky, ready.

Then he pressed back into her, drawn in like a magnet. One smooth push and he was inside, deeper, fuller.

“WHAT THE FUUCCKKKK!” Jada cried, the sound tearing out of her.

Sex between them was always the best—wet, messy, addictive—but adding lube turned it reckless. Everything felt amplified. Wetter. Stickier. Better. Skin slapped against skin in a steady rhythm as he drove into her, the sound filling the office. Jada rolled her hips, shaking her ass in slow circles, pushing back on him, daring him to keep up. She challenged him the way he loved—unbroken, demanding, meeting him stroke for stroke.

His legs spread wider, stance grounding. One hand slid up to her breast, gripping it hard, fingers digging in while the other locked around her waist. He was deep in it now, final stretch, balls slapping against her ass as his pace grew heavier, rougher. He smacked her again, a punctuation mark to every thrust, claiming the moment without saying a word.

"This pussy mine! I don’t give a fuck how long we go without, this my shit and mine only. You hear me?"

"Baby YESSSS! Don't stop!" Jada begged.

"I ain’t stopping." Mr. Walker confirmed as his pace slowed.

Pushing in deep, rolling his hips so he filled her completely before pulling back just enough to do it again. Each movement twisted inside her, stretching her until her body had no choice but to take it. Jada cried out, the sound sharp and uncontrollable, and he reacted instantly—hand covering her mouth, palm firm, grounding her.

Her breath hitched against his skin.

“Yeah,” he murmured close to her ear, voice thick and knowing, “you like that shit, don’t you?”

Through her muffles, he heard Jada moan, "Fuck yeah! Give it to me."

He obeyed her without hesitation, thrusting fast and deep, body snapping against hers in a relentless rhythm until everything inside him gave way. When he finally spilled, the force of it pulled them both forward—his weight folding over her back, her palms bracing against the desk as her body trembled beneath him. They stayed there for a moment, breath tangled, releasing the same long, heavy sigh like they’d both been holding it in for weeks.

He brushed her hair aside, exposing the curve of her neck, and pressed a soft kiss there—then a gentle bite, just enough to make her shiver. With one last smack to the ass, he straightened and guided her toward the small bathroom tucked inside his office. The mood shifted—quiet now, tender—as he cleaned her with a warm towel, careful, familiar, then did the same for himself. No words. Just understanding.

Minutes later, they walked back into the main office space together, composed, polished, looking exactly like two professionals returning to business—no trace of what had just unfolded behind closed doors.

Jada turned to face Mr. Walker and gave him one last kiss. They smiled at each other!

"The Parker file was in the recycle folder, I recovered it for you!" Jada said. "Oh, you may want to pick my thong up from underneath your desk and put that lube away."

"Thanks Jada!" Mr. Walker said.

As she was exiting his office, she turned and said, "Japan will be at home waiting for you to fund. I'm not ready to see the Kangaroos just yet!" she winked.

Mr. Walker laughed and said, "See you home later tonight Mrs. Walker! I love you."

"I love you too baby!”  

Until Next Spill,

Victoria Bleu