Elliot - Brief Encounters
Elliot - Brief Encounters first pov stories
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acmohle
acmohle she/they | 21 | Canada
Autoplay OFF   •   a month ago
The company Christmas party is the occasion to take the next step after office flirtation.

Elliot - Brief Encounters

The company Christmas party is the occasion to take the next step after office flirtation. And of course, I am not immune to the effects of fancy dress and alcohol.

Only the main hall of the building is lit, all surrounding rooms and offices are dark.

The one we stumble into remains so as we feel our way around the desks, as we feel our way around each other.

Strands of my hair have come loose, framing my face, and he brushes them aside as his lips trail kisses down my jaw to my neck.

We come to a halt as the back of my thighs hit a desk. I grip the edge to steady myself as his hands come to rest on my hips.

Both of us know we can't delay the inevitable for long; people will wonder where we are.

I duck my head, capture his lips with mine, hands loosely gripping his collar as I slowly lay back on the desk. He follows me down, hands clearing the pens and books out of my way.

"Elliot," I breathe, the first either of us has spoken since all this began.

He looks at me, more in his eyes than I really want to deal with right now.

"Quit stalling," I say with a small grin. "We wouldn't want to miss dessert."

He rolls his eyes.

There is the silvery clink of a belt buckle, the rasp of a zipper, and the rustle of cloth as my dress is pushed up my legs. His breath is hot against my skin and I wrap my legs around him.

And it is perhaps not the perfect first time I had imagined with Elliot. The desk is hard against my back and the position can hardly be entirely comfortable for him either.

There will be no cuddling afterwards, maybe just a quick kiss before going our separate ways to make ourselves look presentable before re-entering the party.

But for now, he is here, my bare heels digging into his back, his hands everywhere, and his dark eyes on mine. Wanting me. Having me.

So maybe it's okay when I sit back up after, smoothing down my dress and putting my heels back on. "You go first," I say. "I'll wait a few minutes."

And it's a bit more okay when he says, "I'll make sure to snag you a piece of chocolate cake," and winks.

And it's more than just okay when he turns back in the doorway and comes back for a quick, bruising kiss.

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