Fucking My Co Worker Porn Rachel

Back then, our company had to audit and justify some financial discrepancies with our corporate headquarters in Chicago. Rachel was the lead accountant on the project, and since I was her right-hand man and primary support, the department head assigned me to travel with her for the corporate trip. Because there were no direct flights from our small local airport, the two of us had to take a long-distance charter bus to a major hub airport in Philadelphia before we could catch our flight to Chicago.

Once we boarded the bus, Rachel claimed the window seat while I took the aisle seat right next to her. The bus row was a cozy layout with only two seats on our side. We spent the first leg of the trip chatting and laughing, keeping things light. When the bus stopped for a brief five minutes in a small transit town to pick up more passengers, the interior grew incredibly stuffy. I leaned past Rachel toward the open window to buy two cold bottles of water from a platform vendor. As I pulled the bottles inside, my clumsy hands slipped, and I ended up spilling an entire bottle of ice-cold water straight down the front of her shirt.

I stammered an apology, frantically handing her some napkins to dry off. She didn't say a word, but oh god... the thin white fabric of her shirt was completely translucent, soaking wet and clinging to her skin. The perfect, voluptuous curve of her breasts was suddenly laid bare right in front of my eyes.

From that exact second, dark, wicked thoughts took over my mind. I desperately craved a clearer look at her chest but didn't dare make a scene, settling for stolen, fleeting glances whenever she shifted. Rachel seemed completely oblivious to the wardrobe malfunction, sitting comfortably without filtering herself, allowing me a pristine view of her soft skin beneath the damp cloth. The friction of our bodies rubbing together every time the bus jolted became a profound source of arousal. What started as accidental contact quickly became entirely deliberate on my part. Whether she noticed my subtle advances or simply chose to ignore them, I couldn't tell.

The rest of the journey—checking in at the Philadelphia airport and catching our flight to Chicago—went smoothly without much to note. But every single time an opportunity presented itself, I found a way to sit as close to her as humanly possible, hiding my desperate infatuation with the quiet discretion of a young guy experiencing raw lust for the first time.

We spent two days pulling grueling, back-to-back hours at the corporate headquarters, and the results were an absolute success. Thanks to my quick thinking and thorough understanding of the ledger, I was able to take a massive load off her shoulders. Rachel was visibly thrilled with my performance and treated me with a newfound warmth. To celebrate a job well done, she took me out for a lavish deep-dish pizza dinner downtown before our morning flight back east.

Because our return flight to Philly was scheduled for early morning, we had to wake up before dawn to make our gate. That night, I tossed and turned, completely unable to sleep. Part of it was the anxiety of oversleeping, but the bigger part was a desperate, aching desire to hold Rachel in my arms. By 2:00 AM, I couldn't take it anymore. I jumped out of bed, showered, freshened up, and went down the hall to knock on her hotel room door.

Rachel opened the door, wearing a loose robe, and invited me inside, telling me to relax while she got ready. Once she finished packing her essentials, she glanced at her watch and sighed, asking why on earth I had woken her up so early since we still had a solid two hours before we even needed to call an Uber. Flustered and completely tongue-tied, I didn't know what to say.

Rachel: "Well, since we're both awake, let's just hang out here and wait for the sun to come up."

We sat and chatted for a while, but exhaustion soon caught up to me, and I collapsed onto the edge of the mattress while Rachel sat nearby. Ten minutes later, she confessed she was beat too, and stretched out right beside me. My mind raced—this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Yet, I frozen up, even though my length was completely rock-hard, tenting my jeans in a massive, undeniable bulge.

Rachel closed her eyes, drifting into a light doze. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, straining against her thin top as if begging to break free, drove my senses to an absolute breaking point. I kept shifting and turning on the sheets, unable to stay still. Rachel didn't protest. Gathering every ounce of courage in my body, I rolled over and locked my arms around her waist.

She fluttered her eyes open, looking directly into mine.

Rachel: "What are you doing, Kevin?"

Despite the question, I caught the faint trace of a smile playing at the corners of her lips—a silent, unmistakable green light.

Me: "I'm completely crazy about you, Rachel."

I whispered the words breathlessly, my heart hammering against my ribs from a mix of intense arousal and sheer adrenaline.

Pulling her tight against my chest, I leaned down and pressed my lips firmly against hers. At first, her mouth was locked tight, but within seconds, she parted her lips, allowing me to slide my tongue deep inside her warmth. A moment later, she responded, returning the French kiss with a fierce, unchecked hunger.

Wasting no time, I shifted my weight to climb on top of her, sliding my thighs between hers and pressing my rigid shaft hard against her groin, even though we were both still fully clothed. Kissing a mature woman for the first time sent a dizzying rush of euphoria straight through my veins. My body temperature spiked, a burning heat that transferred directly into our tangled tongues.

Cradling the back of her head to tilt her face up into the kiss, my free hand slid beneath her top, pressing my palm flat against one of her bare breasts. It felt like cupping a soft, velvet pillow, her hardened nipple scraping deliciously against the inside of my fingers. Rachel let out a soft gasp against my mouth, arching her back to press her weight heavier into my palm.

Moments later, my hand drifted south, unzipping her pants and sliding a single finger past the waistband into her intimate triangle. A thick, slick wave of wetness instantly coated my fingertip. Her breathing hitched, and she instinctively parted her thighs wider, giving me total access. I slid two fingers deep between her plump folds, tracing a slow, instinctive stroke from bottom to top. Rachel let out a ragged breath, her whimpers growing louder.

I don't know how other guys handle their very first intimate encounter with a woman, but for me, the overwhelming surge of ecstasy combined with my complete lack of experience proved to be a fatal mix. The exact second I reached down to undo my own belt to free my throbbing length, a violent jolt of electricity shot straight up my spine. The sudden rush was unstoppable.

Before I could even free myself from my clothes, my body betrayed me. Wave after wave of thick, hot release erupted inside my underwear, completely unchecked. My entire frame went rigid, a sensation of pure, blinding pleasure that eclipsed anything I had ever felt before. Spilling my seed while pinned against the body of a beautiful woman made me feel like I was floating, a heavy mist descending over my vision as I drifted on the cloud of a premature climax.

I lay frozen on top of her for a long moment, completely paralyzed by utter embarrassment. Mortified, I scrambled off the bed without a word, bolted out of her room, and ran straight back to my own quarters to change my clothes, locking myself inside in a state of sheer panic.

About half an hour later, a soft knock sounded at my door.

Rachel: "Kevin! The Uber is going to be here soon. Time to go."

I quickly gathered my luggage, met her in the hall, and walked down to the lobby to check out before catching our ride to O'Hare. Throughout the entire commute and the flight back, I couldn't bring myself to look her in the eye. Rachel, however, was incredibly attentive and sweet, treating me with a gentle tenderness that told me she completely understood my embarrassment.

When we returned to the office after a day of rest, seeing her again was still slightly awkward, though the intense shame had begun to fade. She never uttered a single word about what happened in the hotel room, but every time our paths crossed, I could feel the deep, affectionate warmth lingering in her gaze.

There were moments when I beat myself up, feeling a pang of guilt over crossing the professional line, but the desperate craving to truly make love to her consumed my every waking thought. I prayed for a second chance to get it right, but the opportunity eluded me—until a few weeks later when Rachel called in sick for a few days. Management assigned me to drop by her house to deliver some urgent paperwork and check in on her.

Her house was nestled in a quiet, secluded suburban cul-de-sac. Heart pounding, I stepped onto the porch and rang the bell. Rachel opened the door wearing a silk negligee and smiled, inviting me inside. The house was completely empty; we were entirely alone. I asked how she was feeling, and she explained that she had been dealing with a nasty flu but was finally over the hump and planned to return to work the next day.

The two of us sat on the living room couch, chatting comfortably. My mind was completely hyper-focused on finding a way to lean in and kiss her, but I had no idea how to break the ice. Suddenly, the house went pitch black. A power outage. Rachel asked if I could check the breaker panel and the wiring to see if a localized short circuit had tripped the main switch.

After poking around with my phone flashlight, I tracked the issue to a blown outlet in the upstairs loft. I knelt down to fix the wiring while Rachel stood directly over me, watching me work. The second I finished and stood up, my shoulder brushed right against her soft breast. The sudden contact sparked a wild rush of adrenaline. I spun around, locked my arms tightly around her waist, and pressed a firm, lingering kiss against her cheek.

Rachel let out a soft laugh, murmuring quietly:

Rachel: "Don't, Kevin..."

End Part 1 => Part 2