23-04-2026, 05:59 AM
Chapter 62: Ashok and Latha Office Tour
Scene 1
The phone kept ringing.
It was on the side table, the one near the garbage can where Ashok’s thali had fallen a few minutes ago. Vanitha’s own phone, face up, the screen lit bright in the quiet bedroom. The ringtone was a small soft chime she had picked herself, and it sounded louder now than it had ever sounded.
Selvam did not move. His full weight was still on her. His face was still in her hair at her ear. His cock was still inside her, soft now, but still inside, and she could feel the warm wet of him spilling slow out around him and down between her legs onto Ashok’s bedspread.
“Mama,” she whispered. “The phone.”
“Let it ring.”
“Mama, it could be...”
She twisted under him. Her hand came up off his back and stretched toward the side table. Her fingers caught the edge of the phone. She pulled it toward her across the wood and she got it in her palm and she turned it to see the screen.
Ashok’s number.
Her heart stopped for one clean second.
“Mama, it’s Ashok’s phone.”
Selvam lifted his head a half inch off the pillow. He looked at the screen in her hand. He did not get off her. He did not pull out of her. He settled back down on her chest and she felt his breath warm against her throat.
“Answer it, ma.”
“Mama, I can’t, I’m...”
“Answer it, Vanitha.”
Her thumb slid on the glass. The call opened. She put the phone to her ear with a hand that shook once and then stopped shaking, because it had to.
“Hello?”
“Hi akka.” Latha’s voice came through small and sweet and nothing in it knew anything. “What are you and uncle doing?”
Vanitha’s throat closed. She worked it once. Selvam’s weight on her chest was not helping. His cock inside her was not helping. The slow warm leak of him onto the bedspread under her ass was not helping.
“I... we...” Her voice came out a half pitch too high. She heard it. She cleared her throat. “Nothing, ma. Nothing much. Cleaning up. From lunch.”
“Oh.” A small pause. “You sound strange, akka. Are you running?”
“Running.” Vanitha laughed. The laugh came out too fast. “No, no. I was. I was on the stairs. I just came down. To get the phone.”
Selvam’s mouth pressed against her throat. Slow. Not a kiss. Just the press of his lips on the thin skin over her pulse, and she felt her pulse jump against his mouth, and she knew he felt it too.
“Akka, is uncle there?”
“He is... he is in the shower, ma.” Her voice held. Barely. “I was going to film a reel. For the Instagram. After lunch. A saree one. I am planning it now.”
“Oh, nice, akka. Which saree?”
“The... the green one, ma.” The first word that came. “The green chiffon.”
Selvam’s hand came up and closed slow around her bare breast. She made a small sound. She bit it down fast. She turned her mouth away from the phone and breathed once against the pillow.
“Akka? You there?”
“Yes, ma, yes, I am here. Sorry. The line. Listen, ma, I will call you back, okay? I have to start the filming. The light is going.”
“Okay, akka. Anna and I will be home by seven. He is taking me for coffee after work.”
“Good, ma. That’s good. See you soon.”
“Bye, akka.”
The line went dead.
Vanitha dropped the phone on the bedspread beside her head. Her hand was shaking now. It was allowed to shake now. Selvam’s mouth was still on her throat and his hand was still on her breast and he had not moved once through the whole call except to put his mouth on her pulse.
“Mama,” she said. Her voice cracked. “She said seven.”
“I heard, ma… so we have 3 more hours?”
Selvam’s cock started to get bigger, while still inside Vanitha from the previous fuck.
Scene 2
Across the town in Ashok’s office, the clock on the wall said 4:03 PM.
Ashok pulled his tie a half inch loose at the knot. The light on the far wall had gone the soft orange of late afternoon California, the kind that made the glass of the corner office look warm even when the air conditioning had been running cold all day. Below him, eighteen floors down, the cars on the 280 were a slow red line toward the south. He did not look at them. He was looking at the last of the three quarterly reports open on his second monitor, and he was not reading it, and he knew he was not reading it.
He clicked out of it. He pulled his laptop toward him across the desk. He reached for the leather bag on the floor at the side of his chair.
The door opened.
He did not look up at first. He thought it was the cleaner, early. He heard the door close, quiet, and then a small shift of weight on the carpet near the doorway and he knew it was not the cleaner, because the cleaner did not stop in the doorway.
He looked up.
Latha was standing just inside the door. Her hand was still on the handle behind her. She had taken off the thin cardigan she had worn all morning and put it back on, and he could see from the way it sat on her shoulders that she had fixed it in the bathroom before coming back to his office. Her skirt was the long one, the grey one that fell past her knees. The Henley top under the cardigan was the cream one. Her hair was braided over her left shoulder the way she braided it when she was nervous.
She looked nervous now.
“Anna.”
The word did what it always did. It did it a little worse today. He felt the small warm drop of it land low in his chest and travel south.
“Come in, ma.”
She came in. She did not come fast. She walked the way she walked, small even steps, the long skirt moving against her calves, her sandals quiet on the carpet. She stopped a half foot from the front edge of his desk.
“Did you like the chocolate milk?” he asked. He heard his own voice. It sounded normal. He was grateful for it.
“Yes, anna.” Her mouth moved in the small smile it did when she was pleased. “I took two. For uncle. They are in the fridge downstairs.”
“The fridge downstairs will be locked by the time we leave.”
“Oh.”
“I will get them for you on the way out.”
“Thank you, anna.”
He watched her. He watched her fingers come up off her side and touch the edge of his desk, small, the tips first, and then the whole hand flat on the wood. She slid her palm along the edge an inch. She was not looking at him. She was looking at the desk.
“The tour was good?” he asked.
“Yes, anna. It is a big office.”
“It is a big company.”
“The lady at the front, Jennifer, she gave me a coffee. I told her I do not drink coffee. She was very kind.”
“She is kind.”
Her hand slid another inch along the edge of the desk. Her fingertips came near where his hand was resting on the wood. She did not touch his hand. She did not look up.
“Anna.”
“Yes, Ma.”
“Everyone has gone.”
He looked past her at the glass wall that faced the rest of the floor. The cubicles beyond the glass were dark. The overhead lights of the main floor had gone to their four o’clock dim. The only light on the floor was the light in his own office and the small green exit sign at the stairwell.
“Yes,” he said. He heard his voice drop a half pitch. He did not try to fix it. “They have all gone, ma.”
She lifted her eyes. She looked at him across the desk. Her lashes were very dark and her cheeks had gone pink under the lights.
“Anna, I...”
“Ma.”
“I wanted to... I came up to ask you...”
She could not finish it. She bit her bottom lip. Her hand on the edge of the desk had closed into a small soft fist.
Ashok stood up.
The chair rolled back behind him on the mat. The sound of the wheels was loud in the quiet office. He did not look at the chair. He was looking at her across the desk and he could feel the last of the tie come loose at his throat.
“Come here, ma.”
Scene 3
He came around the desk.
He did not hurry. He did it the way he did everything at work, one foot in front of the other, and by the time he reached her side of the desk she had turned to face him, her back to the wood, her hands flat behind her on the edge.
He stopped a half foot from her. Not touching.
“Latha.”
“Anna.”
“You came up here to ask me something.”
“Yes, anna.”
“Ask, me.”
She did not ask. She looked up at him. Her eyes were wet at the corners and he did not know if it was the light or if it was her.
“Anna, the... the doctor said.”
“Yes.”
“The doctor said the next time would be in three weeks. For the... for the IVF. The second transfer.”
“Yes.”
“Anna.” Her hand came up off the edge of the desk. It was small. She put it flat on the front of his shirt, right over the button below his loosened tie. He felt the warmth of her palm through the cotton. “He said, for the best chance, the body should be... the body should be ready.”
He swallowed. Ashok kept his hands at his sides. He had to.
“Ready how.”
“He said, the... the hormones. They respond. To... to.”
She could not finish it. She was looking at her own hand on his chest. Her cheeks had gone darker.
“Latha.”
“Anna, I know it is not the same. I know akka’s egg. Is her egg. But the doctor said, the body, mine, has to be. Active. So the. So the transfer will take.”
He heard it. He knew it was not the truth the doctor had given her. He knew the truth the doctor had given her. The truth was the first transfer had failed, and the second transfer was a try, and the body was not the thing the hormones rode on. He knew this because he had sat in the doctor’s office with her three weeks ago and listened.
She knew it too. He saw it in her eyes when they came up off his chest to his face.
She was giving him the lie so he could take it.
He took it.
His hand came up. He put it over hers on his chest. He held her small hand flat under his larger one against the cotton of his shirt.
“Latha.”
“Anna, please.”
He bent. He had not meant to bend this fast. He did it anyway. He put his mouth on hers and he kissed her, slow, small, the way he had kissed her the first time in his own kitchen three weeks ago. Her lips were dry and soft and they parted under his after a second, and her free hand came up and closed in the loose knot of his tie at his throat.
Vanitha came up behind his eyes, quick, a flash. Vanitha laughing that morning in some other kitchen he was not in. Vanitha in a saree. Vanitha saying no, always, at the end, not to cum inside her, never inside her vagina.
He pushed the flash away.
He kissed Latha again, deeper. He let his tongue come against her lower lip and she opened for him, small, shy, and he felt her whole body give a small shiver against his.
“Anna,” she said, against his mouth.
“Latha.”
He moved her. His hands went to her waist and he turned her and backed her the two steps it took to put her back against the glass wall of his office. The glass was cool through the cardigan and she gasped against his mouth when her shoulders touched it.
“Anna, the glass, people...”
“It is one-way. From out there it is dark.. no one can at us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes”
He kissed her throat. He put his hand on the top button of her cardigan and he worked it open, slow. Then the next. Then the next. The cardigan came apart under his fingers and he pushed it off her shoulders and it slid down her arms and caught at her elbows. The Henley underneath was cream, thin, the small line of her bra strap visible through the fabric.
Her hands came down between them. He looked down. She was working his belt. Her fingers were shaking. She got the buckle open on the second try and pulled the leather out through the loop.
“Latha, slow.”
“Anna, I have been. All day. I was thinking. All day, in your office, while you were in the meeting.”
He closed his eyes for a second. He opened them.
“Come here, ma.”
He lifted her. His hands went under her thighs and he picked her up off the carpet, the long skirt riding up, and he carried her the four steps to the desk. He set her down on the edge of it. He swept the papers with one forearm the way he had seen men do in movies and never thought he would do, and the quarterly reports and the laptop he had just been going to pack slid sideways across the wood, the laptop stopping at the edge on its own weight.
She was on the desk. Her skirt was up at her thighs. He pulled the Henley up over her head and her braid came loose over one shoulder. Her bra was the small simple one, white cotton, a small bow at the center.
He eased the bra cups down, exposing her breasts… soft, full, tipped with dusky brown nipples that pebbled in the cool office air. He took one of her nipples between his lips, sucking gently, then the other, his tongue circling slow, savoring the sweet, delicate taste of her skin.
In his mind, he couldn’t help the comparison… so different from Vanitha’s, fuller and commanding, while Latha’s were softer, almost innocent beneath his tongue. Both beautiful in their own way.
Here, now, Latha shivered at every flick, her breath a trembling gasp, her hands fisting in his shirt as he worshipped each tip in turn.
“Anna.”
“Latha…”
“Anna, I want. I want you in me. Without the...”
“I know, dear.”
“Without the.” Her voice went small. “Anna, I want you to. Finish. In me. Like last time. The doctor said.”
The doctor had not said. He knew it. She knew it. He did not care anymore.
“Yes, ma... i don’t mind giving it to you…”
He pushed his pants down. His cock came out hard and heavy and she looked down at it once and bit her lip. She had seen it before. She had seen it twice, and twice she had been scared of it, and twice she had let him in anyway, and her body had learned him.
He reached under her long skirt and pulled the cotton of her underwear down her thighs. She lifted her hips for him. The cotton slid down her calves and he slipped it off one foot and left it hanging off the other.
He stepped between her knees.
She was wet. He put his hand on her first. He wanted to be sure. She was wet enough that his fingers slid on her outer lips at the first touch, and she made a small sound against his shoulder, and he felt her knee come up around his hip.
“Anna, please.”
“I know, da.”
He lined himself up. He pushed the head of him against her small, tight little opening. She gasped, small, her hand closing tight in his shirt.
“Slow, anna, slow, you are so big.”
“I know, da… i am slow”
He pushed in slow. Inch by inch. He watched her face. Her eyes were closed. Her mouth was open. Her brows were drawn together. He stopped halfway. He waited. Her knee locked at his hip and pulled him in a half inch on her own.
“More, anna.”
He gave her more. Another inch. Another. He seated all the way in. She made a small broken sound and her forehead came down against his collarbone.
“Anna.”
“Tell me.”
“You are so big, Anna... i can’t.. it hurts”
“Breathe, ma.”
She breathed. He felt her body give around him on the breath, a small soft open, and he pulled back and pushed in slow, and she sobbed once against his chest and her arms went around his neck.
He fucked her slow on the desk. His one hand on her lower back, holding her at the edge. His other hand at the back of her head, in her hair, holding her against his chest.
“Anna, anna, anna.”
“Yes i am here…”
“Anna, it feels. It feels different today.”
“Yes, dear...”
“Anna, you are deeper. I can.”
“I know, ma.”
He felt her around him, small and tight and perfect, and he felt the thing he had been feeling since the first time, the thing Vanitha had never given him. The warm soft grip of her body with no barrier, no latex, no pulling out at the end. She wanted him to stay. She wanted him to finish. She was asking him, her arms around his neck, her breath in his ear, to put a baby in her under a lie they were both telling each other.
He put his mouth on her temple.
He moved faster. Her small high sounds came against his shoulder, one on every stroke, and his hand in her hair closed tighter. Her thighs started to shake around his hips. He felt her clench on him, a small soft flutter, and she whimpered.
“Anna.”
“Yess.. dear you are so fucking tight…”
“Anna, I am.”
“You want to cum, dear?”
She came. It was a small come, soft, the way her comes were, nothing like the big ones he remembered from Vanitha in the early days. Her body clenched on him in small warm pulls and her breath caught and she cried small against his neck, and he kept moving, and the clench of her pulled him over.
“Oh Latha…”
“Anna, yes, inside, anna, please.”
He held. He drove in one last time and he held there and he let go.
Her vaginal walls convulsed around his shaft and started milking his thick seed. The first pulse of his ejaculation hit him hard. He groaned into her hair. Thick ropes of semen started to gush into her fertile womb.. The second pulse came behind it, the third, the fourth, and he felt every one of them, the hot wet release of him spilling into her and not coming back, not being caught by any latex, not being pulled out. He held her tight against his chest and he felt his cock pulse inside her and he felt her arms tighten around his neck at every pulse, like she could feel each one, like she was counting.
“Anna.”
“Latha… ahhh”
“Anna, it is. So warm.”
“And you are so tight…”
The last pulse came weak. He breathed out. His forehead came down against hers. The office was very quiet around them. The sun through the glass had gone one shade further toward orange. Below them, eighteen floors down, the 280 was still a slow red line.
He did not pull out for a long time.
He held, drove in one last time and let go, thick heat pulsing into her.
Latha’s breath caught, arms tightening around his neck. Between soft shudders, she whispered, voice small and trembling, “Anna… akka doesn’t let you do this, na?”
He groaned into her hair, still spilling into her. “No, ma. She never lets me finish inside her.”
Latha arched to him, her legs trembling. “You can do it to me, Anna. I won’t stop you. I want you to.”
Her words dragged the last shudder from him. He held her tighter, burying himself deeper, feeling her body clutching him, milking every drop.
“Anna.”
“Yes dear…”
“Three weeks is a long time.”
He closed his eyes.
“I will find a way for us to do this more often, ma.”
“Yes, anna.”
“And tomorrow.”
“Yes, anna.”
“And every night, ma. Until the transfer.”
She made a small sound against his chest. He could not tell if it was a laugh or a sob. He did not ask. His hand stayed in her hair. His cock stayed inside her. The quarterly reports were on the floor at his foot and he had not noticed them fall.
Scene 1
The phone kept ringing.
It was on the side table, the one near the garbage can where Ashok’s thali had fallen a few minutes ago. Vanitha’s own phone, face up, the screen lit bright in the quiet bedroom. The ringtone was a small soft chime she had picked herself, and it sounded louder now than it had ever sounded.
Selvam did not move. His full weight was still on her. His face was still in her hair at her ear. His cock was still inside her, soft now, but still inside, and she could feel the warm wet of him spilling slow out around him and down between her legs onto Ashok’s bedspread.
“Mama,” she whispered. “The phone.”
“Let it ring.”
“Mama, it could be...”
She twisted under him. Her hand came up off his back and stretched toward the side table. Her fingers caught the edge of the phone. She pulled it toward her across the wood and she got it in her palm and she turned it to see the screen.
Ashok’s number.
Her heart stopped for one clean second.
“Mama, it’s Ashok’s phone.”
Selvam lifted his head a half inch off the pillow. He looked at the screen in her hand. He did not get off her. He did not pull out of her. He settled back down on her chest and she felt his breath warm against her throat.
“Answer it, ma.”
“Mama, I can’t, I’m...”
“Answer it, Vanitha.”
Her thumb slid on the glass. The call opened. She put the phone to her ear with a hand that shook once and then stopped shaking, because it had to.
“Hello?”
“Hi akka.” Latha’s voice came through small and sweet and nothing in it knew anything. “What are you and uncle doing?”
Vanitha’s throat closed. She worked it once. Selvam’s weight on her chest was not helping. His cock inside her was not helping. The slow warm leak of him onto the bedspread under her ass was not helping.
“I... we...” Her voice came out a half pitch too high. She heard it. She cleared her throat. “Nothing, ma. Nothing much. Cleaning up. From lunch.”
“Oh.” A small pause. “You sound strange, akka. Are you running?”
“Running.” Vanitha laughed. The laugh came out too fast. “No, no. I was. I was on the stairs. I just came down. To get the phone.”
Selvam’s mouth pressed against her throat. Slow. Not a kiss. Just the press of his lips on the thin skin over her pulse, and she felt her pulse jump against his mouth, and she knew he felt it too.
“Akka, is uncle there?”
“He is... he is in the shower, ma.” Her voice held. Barely. “I was going to film a reel. For the Instagram. After lunch. A saree one. I am planning it now.”
“Oh, nice, akka. Which saree?”
“The... the green one, ma.” The first word that came. “The green chiffon.”
Selvam’s hand came up and closed slow around her bare breast. She made a small sound. She bit it down fast. She turned her mouth away from the phone and breathed once against the pillow.
“Akka? You there?”
“Yes, ma, yes, I am here. Sorry. The line. Listen, ma, I will call you back, okay? I have to start the filming. The light is going.”
“Okay, akka. Anna and I will be home by seven. He is taking me for coffee after work.”
“Good, ma. That’s good. See you soon.”
“Bye, akka.”
The line went dead.
Vanitha dropped the phone on the bedspread beside her head. Her hand was shaking now. It was allowed to shake now. Selvam’s mouth was still on her throat and his hand was still on her breast and he had not moved once through the whole call except to put his mouth on her pulse.
“Mama,” she said. Her voice cracked. “She said seven.”
“I heard, ma… so we have 3 more hours?”
Selvam’s cock started to get bigger, while still inside Vanitha from the previous fuck.
Scene 2
Across the town in Ashok’s office, the clock on the wall said 4:03 PM.
Ashok pulled his tie a half inch loose at the knot. The light on the far wall had gone the soft orange of late afternoon California, the kind that made the glass of the corner office look warm even when the air conditioning had been running cold all day. Below him, eighteen floors down, the cars on the 280 were a slow red line toward the south. He did not look at them. He was looking at the last of the three quarterly reports open on his second monitor, and he was not reading it, and he knew he was not reading it.
He clicked out of it. He pulled his laptop toward him across the desk. He reached for the leather bag on the floor at the side of his chair.
The door opened.
He did not look up at first. He thought it was the cleaner, early. He heard the door close, quiet, and then a small shift of weight on the carpet near the doorway and he knew it was not the cleaner, because the cleaner did not stop in the doorway.
He looked up.
Latha was standing just inside the door. Her hand was still on the handle behind her. She had taken off the thin cardigan she had worn all morning and put it back on, and he could see from the way it sat on her shoulders that she had fixed it in the bathroom before coming back to his office. Her skirt was the long one, the grey one that fell past her knees. The Henley top under the cardigan was the cream one. Her hair was braided over her left shoulder the way she braided it when she was nervous.
She looked nervous now.
“Anna.”
The word did what it always did. It did it a little worse today. He felt the small warm drop of it land low in his chest and travel south.
“Come in, ma.”
She came in. She did not come fast. She walked the way she walked, small even steps, the long skirt moving against her calves, her sandals quiet on the carpet. She stopped a half foot from the front edge of his desk.
“Did you like the chocolate milk?” he asked. He heard his own voice. It sounded normal. He was grateful for it.
“Yes, anna.” Her mouth moved in the small smile it did when she was pleased. “I took two. For uncle. They are in the fridge downstairs.”
“The fridge downstairs will be locked by the time we leave.”
“Oh.”
“I will get them for you on the way out.”
“Thank you, anna.”
He watched her. He watched her fingers come up off her side and touch the edge of his desk, small, the tips first, and then the whole hand flat on the wood. She slid her palm along the edge an inch. She was not looking at him. She was looking at the desk.
“The tour was good?” he asked.
“Yes, anna. It is a big office.”
“It is a big company.”
“The lady at the front, Jennifer, she gave me a coffee. I told her I do not drink coffee. She was very kind.”
“She is kind.”
Her hand slid another inch along the edge of the desk. Her fingertips came near where his hand was resting on the wood. She did not touch his hand. She did not look up.
“Anna.”
“Yes, Ma.”
“Everyone has gone.”
He looked past her at the glass wall that faced the rest of the floor. The cubicles beyond the glass were dark. The overhead lights of the main floor had gone to their four o’clock dim. The only light on the floor was the light in his own office and the small green exit sign at the stairwell.
“Yes,” he said. He heard his voice drop a half pitch. He did not try to fix it. “They have all gone, ma.”
She lifted her eyes. She looked at him across the desk. Her lashes were very dark and her cheeks had gone pink under the lights.
“Anna, I...”
“Ma.”
“I wanted to... I came up to ask you...”
She could not finish it. She bit her bottom lip. Her hand on the edge of the desk had closed into a small soft fist.
Ashok stood up.
The chair rolled back behind him on the mat. The sound of the wheels was loud in the quiet office. He did not look at the chair. He was looking at her across the desk and he could feel the last of the tie come loose at his throat.
“Come here, ma.”
Scene 3
He came around the desk.
He did not hurry. He did it the way he did everything at work, one foot in front of the other, and by the time he reached her side of the desk she had turned to face him, her back to the wood, her hands flat behind her on the edge.
He stopped a half foot from her. Not touching.
“Latha.”
“Anna.”
“You came up here to ask me something.”
“Yes, anna.”
“Ask, me.”
She did not ask. She looked up at him. Her eyes were wet at the corners and he did not know if it was the light or if it was her.
“Anna, the... the doctor said.”
“Yes.”
“The doctor said the next time would be in three weeks. For the... for the IVF. The second transfer.”
“Yes.”
“Anna.” Her hand came up off the edge of the desk. It was small. She put it flat on the front of his shirt, right over the button below his loosened tie. He felt the warmth of her palm through the cotton. “He said, for the best chance, the body should be... the body should be ready.”
He swallowed. Ashok kept his hands at his sides. He had to.
“Ready how.”
“He said, the... the hormones. They respond. To... to.”
She could not finish it. She was looking at her own hand on his chest. Her cheeks had gone darker.
“Latha.”
“Anna, I know it is not the same. I know akka’s egg. Is her egg. But the doctor said, the body, mine, has to be. Active. So the. So the transfer will take.”
He heard it. He knew it was not the truth the doctor had given her. He knew the truth the doctor had given her. The truth was the first transfer had failed, and the second transfer was a try, and the body was not the thing the hormones rode on. He knew this because he had sat in the doctor’s office with her three weeks ago and listened.
She knew it too. He saw it in her eyes when they came up off his chest to his face.
She was giving him the lie so he could take it.
He took it.
His hand came up. He put it over hers on his chest. He held her small hand flat under his larger one against the cotton of his shirt.
“Latha.”
“Anna, please.”
He bent. He had not meant to bend this fast. He did it anyway. He put his mouth on hers and he kissed her, slow, small, the way he had kissed her the first time in his own kitchen three weeks ago. Her lips were dry and soft and they parted under his after a second, and her free hand came up and closed in the loose knot of his tie at his throat.
Vanitha came up behind his eyes, quick, a flash. Vanitha laughing that morning in some other kitchen he was not in. Vanitha in a saree. Vanitha saying no, always, at the end, not to cum inside her, never inside her vagina.
He pushed the flash away.
He kissed Latha again, deeper. He let his tongue come against her lower lip and she opened for him, small, shy, and he felt her whole body give a small shiver against his.
“Anna,” she said, against his mouth.
“Latha.”
He moved her. His hands went to her waist and he turned her and backed her the two steps it took to put her back against the glass wall of his office. The glass was cool through the cardigan and she gasped against his mouth when her shoulders touched it.
“Anna, the glass, people...”
“It is one-way. From out there it is dark.. no one can at us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes”
He kissed her throat. He put his hand on the top button of her cardigan and he worked it open, slow. Then the next. Then the next. The cardigan came apart under his fingers and he pushed it off her shoulders and it slid down her arms and caught at her elbows. The Henley underneath was cream, thin, the small line of her bra strap visible through the fabric.
Her hands came down between them. He looked down. She was working his belt. Her fingers were shaking. She got the buckle open on the second try and pulled the leather out through the loop.
“Latha, slow.”
“Anna, I have been. All day. I was thinking. All day, in your office, while you were in the meeting.”
He closed his eyes for a second. He opened them.
“Come here, ma.”
He lifted her. His hands went under her thighs and he picked her up off the carpet, the long skirt riding up, and he carried her the four steps to the desk. He set her down on the edge of it. He swept the papers with one forearm the way he had seen men do in movies and never thought he would do, and the quarterly reports and the laptop he had just been going to pack slid sideways across the wood, the laptop stopping at the edge on its own weight.
She was on the desk. Her skirt was up at her thighs. He pulled the Henley up over her head and her braid came loose over one shoulder. Her bra was the small simple one, white cotton, a small bow at the center.
He eased the bra cups down, exposing her breasts… soft, full, tipped with dusky brown nipples that pebbled in the cool office air. He took one of her nipples between his lips, sucking gently, then the other, his tongue circling slow, savoring the sweet, delicate taste of her skin.
In his mind, he couldn’t help the comparison… so different from Vanitha’s, fuller and commanding, while Latha’s were softer, almost innocent beneath his tongue. Both beautiful in their own way.
Here, now, Latha shivered at every flick, her breath a trembling gasp, her hands fisting in his shirt as he worshipped each tip in turn.
“Anna.”
“Latha…”
“Anna, I want. I want you in me. Without the...”
“I know, dear.”
“Without the.” Her voice went small. “Anna, I want you to. Finish. In me. Like last time. The doctor said.”
The doctor had not said. He knew it. She knew it. He did not care anymore.
“Yes, ma... i don’t mind giving it to you…”
He pushed his pants down. His cock came out hard and heavy and she looked down at it once and bit her lip. She had seen it before. She had seen it twice, and twice she had been scared of it, and twice she had let him in anyway, and her body had learned him.
He reached under her long skirt and pulled the cotton of her underwear down her thighs. She lifted her hips for him. The cotton slid down her calves and he slipped it off one foot and left it hanging off the other.
He stepped between her knees.
She was wet. He put his hand on her first. He wanted to be sure. She was wet enough that his fingers slid on her outer lips at the first touch, and she made a small sound against his shoulder, and he felt her knee come up around his hip.
“Anna, please.”
“I know, da.”
He lined himself up. He pushed the head of him against her small, tight little opening. She gasped, small, her hand closing tight in his shirt.
“Slow, anna, slow, you are so big.”
“I know, da… i am slow”
He pushed in slow. Inch by inch. He watched her face. Her eyes were closed. Her mouth was open. Her brows were drawn together. He stopped halfway. He waited. Her knee locked at his hip and pulled him in a half inch on her own.
“More, anna.”
He gave her more. Another inch. Another. He seated all the way in. She made a small broken sound and her forehead came down against his collarbone.
“Anna.”
“Tell me.”
“You are so big, Anna... i can’t.. it hurts”
“Breathe, ma.”
She breathed. He felt her body give around him on the breath, a small soft open, and he pulled back and pushed in slow, and she sobbed once against his chest and her arms went around his neck.
He fucked her slow on the desk. His one hand on her lower back, holding her at the edge. His other hand at the back of her head, in her hair, holding her against his chest.
“Anna, anna, anna.”
“Yes i am here…”
“Anna, it feels. It feels different today.”
“Yes, dear...”
“Anna, you are deeper. I can.”
“I know, ma.”
He felt her around him, small and tight and perfect, and he felt the thing he had been feeling since the first time, the thing Vanitha had never given him. The warm soft grip of her body with no barrier, no latex, no pulling out at the end. She wanted him to stay. She wanted him to finish. She was asking him, her arms around his neck, her breath in his ear, to put a baby in her under a lie they were both telling each other.
He put his mouth on her temple.
He moved faster. Her small high sounds came against his shoulder, one on every stroke, and his hand in her hair closed tighter. Her thighs started to shake around his hips. He felt her clench on him, a small soft flutter, and she whimpered.
“Anna.”
“Yess.. dear you are so fucking tight…”
“Anna, I am.”
“You want to cum, dear?”
She came. It was a small come, soft, the way her comes were, nothing like the big ones he remembered from Vanitha in the early days. Her body clenched on him in small warm pulls and her breath caught and she cried small against his neck, and he kept moving, and the clench of her pulled him over.
“Oh Latha…”
“Anna, yes, inside, anna, please.”
He held. He drove in one last time and he held there and he let go.
Her vaginal walls convulsed around his shaft and started milking his thick seed. The first pulse of his ejaculation hit him hard. He groaned into her hair. Thick ropes of semen started to gush into her fertile womb.. The second pulse came behind it, the third, the fourth, and he felt every one of them, the hot wet release of him spilling into her and not coming back, not being caught by any latex, not being pulled out. He held her tight against his chest and he felt his cock pulse inside her and he felt her arms tighten around his neck at every pulse, like she could feel each one, like she was counting.
“Anna.”
“Latha… ahhh”
“Anna, it is. So warm.”
“And you are so tight…”
The last pulse came weak. He breathed out. His forehead came down against hers. The office was very quiet around them. The sun through the glass had gone one shade further toward orange. Below them, eighteen floors down, the 280 was still a slow red line.
He did not pull out for a long time.
He held, drove in one last time and let go, thick heat pulsing into her.
Latha’s breath caught, arms tightening around his neck. Between soft shudders, she whispered, voice small and trembling, “Anna… akka doesn’t let you do this, na?”
He groaned into her hair, still spilling into her. “No, ma. She never lets me finish inside her.”
Latha arched to him, her legs trembling. “You can do it to me, Anna. I won’t stop you. I want you to.”
Her words dragged the last shudder from him. He held her tighter, burying himself deeper, feeling her body clutching him, milking every drop.
“Anna.”
“Yes dear…”
“Three weeks is a long time.”
He closed his eyes.
“I will find a way for us to do this more often, ma.”
“Yes, anna.”
“And tomorrow.”
“Yes, anna.”
“And every night, ma. Until the transfer.”
She made a small sound against his chest. He could not tell if it was a laugh or a sob. He did not ask. His hand stayed in her hair. His cock stayed inside her. The quarterly reports were on the floor at his foot and he had not noticed them fall.
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