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“Hello Darling,” Maxwell greeted his new wife, who had just walked into his office, closing the door behind her. He looked at the clock and realised that it was much later than he had intended to work. “I’m sorry, I got caught up with this script,” he told her tapping the closed manuscript on his desk. “What brings you in here so late?” he asked.
Fran smiled as she approached him. “Well, I was thinking.”
“Always a dangerous thought,” Maxwell teased her as he looked her up and down appreciatively. She was still wearing what she had been wearing to dinner, a short skirt and button down top combination.
“Careful or you won’t hear what I was thinking,” Fran quipped in return. She sat down on her usual place on his desk and crossed her legs.
Maxwell rose from his chair and kissed her lightly on the lips. “And will I like what you were thinking?” he asked her, running a finger along one of her bare legs towards the hem of her short skirt.
“Oh, yeah,” Fran said, leaning in to kiss him, this time with more passion than he had used. She placed a hand on his to stop it from moving upwards, knowing she wouldn’t get through the conversation if he continued what he was up to. Not that she minded, but she wanted to talk before they did anything else. “I was sitting upstairs, waiting for you to come up and I started thinking about all those long nights that I spent sleeping alone.”
“Why would you think of that?” Maxwell asked her, pulling his hand from hers and leaning in to kiss her.
Fran tipped her head back so that he couldn’t kiss her. “Because it gave me ideas,” she told him, smiling slyly at him. “More specifically, I started wondering what must have been going through your mind all those nights.” She leant in and kissed him briefly. “More specifically, I was wondering what you must have been thinking of, if you’d been fantasising about me, and what those fantasies were.”
Maxwell looked at her. Okay, I’ll play along, he thought, watching her carefully. Maxwell placed a hand on her knee and encouraged her to open her legs so that he could stand between them. “Well, I admit that there were one or two ideas I had, running through my mind when I looked at you, sitting on my desk like this.” He kissed her again, running a hand along her torso, coming to pause at the underside of her breasts.
“And how did you handle those ‘ideas’?” Fran asked him, her voice turning into almost a purr at the feeling of Maxwell’s hand at her breast.
“I’ll tell you how I handled my fantasies if you tell me how you handled yours,” Maxwell teased her in return, a smirk on his face.
Fran leant back and studied her hew husband’s expectant face. “Well, that wasn’t the plan for tonight,” she told him.
Maxwell laughed softly, returning his attention to her breast. “Another time then,” he said.
“Tell me about one of your fantasies,” Fran encouraged him. She leant in to place her lips near his ear. “In as much detail as possible,” she suggested.
Maxwell smiled, moving his hands to the front of her shirt. He undid the buttons slowly. He leant in to her. “Are you sure that you want me to tell you? I’d much rather show you,” he told her.
“That sounds like so much more fun. I kind of hoped that you’d make that offer,” Fran said, smiling as Maxwell’s hands moved to the front of her bra. Then he shifted them so that they were caressing her back as he kissed her, running along the catch. Then he let her go and looked at her, nodding to himself.
Fran watched him, puzzled as he moved the manuscript off of his desk, and shifting a few things to the side so that there was an empty space in front of his seat. Then, Maxwell pulled Fran off of the desk and moved her so that she was sitting on that space.
“I’ll dispense with the set up,” Maxwell told her, standing once more between her opened legs. He placed a hand under her skirt, sliding it upwards.
“That’s fine with me,” Fran gasped as she felt his hand move further up. She smiled when she saw his expression as he discovered what she wasn’t wearing.
Maxwell’s fingers ran against Fran’s pubic hair and into her moist lips. He moved his fingers against her clit, enjoying how she was writhing under his touch. “Fran, you seem to be missing your underwear,” he told her, in a faux reprimanding tone.
“Let’s just say I was anticipating you taking me up on my offer,” she said in return. She reached down to the front of his pants, undoing the button before he used his free hand to stop her.
“Fran, I thought this was my fantasy we were playing out,” he told her. He pulled his hand out from under her skirt and placed both hands onto each of her knees.
“In your fantasy, I’m not helping you out of your pants?” she asked him.
“As much as I want you to, and will let you do that, eventually, there’s something else I have been dying to do that I haven’t had the chance to do yet,” he told her, kissing her again before stepping back to sit on the chair at his desk so that he was looking up at her.
“Max,” Fran began, wondering what he was up to. They were both aroused enough that she had expected him to take her, then and there on his desk. Instead, he shifted the seat closer to her open thighs. He took each of her hands and placed them on the edge of her desk.
“Miss Fine, you cannot move your hands at all. If you do, at any time, I will stop what I am doing,” he said, his tone firm.
Fran grinned. It was rare that he used her maiden name now, mostly because she automatically corrected him when he did. Okay, this is his fantasy. Let’s see how this all plays out, she thought. She looked down at him. “Okay, Mr Sheffield, if you insist,” she said, smiling at him. “Am I allowed to make any noise?”
“Oh, yes, noise is encouraged,” Maxwell said, pushing her skirt upwards before drawing her closer to him. He smiled as he lowered his face into her, his tongue slipping out and running over her clit.
“Max,” Fran gasped at the sensation that one action had on her.
Maxwell grinned as Fran writhed above him as he continued his ministrations, alternating between using his tongue and his fingers on her. He slipped two fingers inside of her moist opening, thrusting them in and out. He had been thinking about this a lot, even before they were married. Seeing her on his desk, eyes rolling back as he brought her to the point of orgasm with his fingers and his mouth. The taste and scent of her was driving his own arousal, wanting nothing more than to push down his pants and take her there on his desk. As he leant into her again, he felt her quivering above him, gasping out his name.
“Max,” Fran said. She looked down, wondering about the man she had married as she felt her orgasm take her over. She let out another gasp, whispering “Mr Sheffield,” as she tried to regain some kind of sense of reality. That was amazing, she thought as she looked at Maxwell again, who was looking up at her with a self-satisfied smirk. “Well someone’s happy with himself,” she said.
Maxwell stood up, and for a moment looked at his wife who was spread-eagle on his desk, looking as if she had been completely satisfied. He leant in to Fran to place a few kisses on her cheek, moving towards her lips. After a moment of hesitation, he kissed her lips, sliding his tongue into her mouth. It was an intense turn-on for him, knowing that she was tasting herself on his lips as she enthusiastically returned his kisses.
Fran shifted on the desk, moving closer to Maxwell so that she could open the button and fly of his pants. She could feel his erection pressing against her thigh as he kissed her, knew that he wanted to be inside of her as much as she wanted him to be. She reached for the top of his underwear and pushing the offending article down. She began to run her hand along his length, making him groan as she moved her hand back down to the base and started the same movement all over again.
“Fran, if you don’t stop that, I won’t last long enough to finish of this fantasy,” he whispered to her, pushing her hand away before moving his hand to her hips to bring her closer to him. He already knew that she was extremely wet, ready for him.
Fran gasped as Maxwell slid inside of her, and began thrusting. She was already so sensitive from her last orgasm that she wasn’t sure how long she could last. She started moving her hips in time with him. “Max,” she whispered.
“Miss Fine,” Maxwell groaned, his thrusting becoming more rapid as he moved his lips down her neck towards her cleavage.
Fran knew that she was getting closer to another orgasm. She lifted Maxwell’s face upwards, leaning in to kiss his mouth again just as it hit her in a similar fashion as her last one had.
Maxwell continued to move inside of her, feeling as she pulsed around him. He looked at her, spent on his desk and his own climax rushed through him.
After a few seconds, when they had both regained some ability to move, Maxwell withdrew from her and kissed her hard on the lips. “Thank you, Fran, for that opportunity to explore one of my fantasies,” he said, turning his attention to righting his own clothes.
Fran watched him, smiling. “Max, I have to know,” she said.
Maxwell reached for her, pulling her from the desk and helping her to adjust her skirt and redoing the buttons on her shirt. “What do you have to know?” he asked her, kissing her lightly on the lips.
“What was the inspiration for that fantasy?” Fran asked him.
“You were,” Maxwell replied.
“Well, I figured that,” Fran said. “But what the hell did I do to deserve that sort of treatment?”
Maxwell looked a little uncomfortable, but he still smiled. “That was my apology for taking back ‘The Thing’,” he told her. “I’ve been sitting on that particular one since we got back from Paris.”