Kinky Experiences with My Co-workers

After dropping Swati off at her hostel that foggy morning, I crashed hard. The night had been a whirlwind—her soft skin under my hands, the way she’d squirmed and protested yet melted into me, the heat of her breath on my neck.

My dreams were a chaotic replay of it all, her vanilla scent lingering in my mind like a tease I couldn’t shake. I woke up late, groggy, my phone buzzing with a text from her.

Swati: Good morning, sleepyhead. Still dreaming about me?

Me: Always. You left me exhausted last night.

Swati: You’re the one who wouldn’t let me sleep. My neck still feels your lips.
Me: Good. I’ll mark you again tonight if you let me.
Swati: In your dreams, pervert. Get to work.

I grinned, dragging myself out of bed. The office was calling, and I knew seeing her there would be a test of restraint. We’d crossed a line last night, but the game was still on—teasing, pushing, pulling back just enough to keep it electric.

When I rolled into the office, Swati was already at her desk, her tight kurta hugging her frame in a way that made my pulse jump. She glanced up, catching my stare, and smirked like she knew exactly what I was thinking. I slid into my seat beside her, the air between us crackling with unspoken heat.

“Morning,” I said, keeping my voice casual. “You smell like vanilla again. Trying to torture me?”

She leaned in slightly, her voice low. “Maybe. Or maybe I like watching you squirm.”

“Squirm? I’m rock steady,” I shot back, though my eyes flicked to her chest for a split second.

“Keep telling yourself that,” she said, turning back to her screen, but not before I caught the faintest blush on her cheeks.

The day dragged on, a mix of work and stolen glances. Every time she excused herself to the ladies’ room. My phone buzzed minutes later with a snap. She was posing in front of the mirror, a sly smile on her lips, her kurta pulled tight to tease me with her curves. It was torture.

Her little game kept me on edge all day. In the evening, we left together and had some snacks on the way. Little did she know I wasn’t going to the hostel. I drove my bike to my room. When she found out that I’m taking her to my room, she asked me to turn around.

I refused. We reached, and I asked her to get inside. She refused to deboard the bike, and I said, “Come inside, people are looking.” We went inside. When we’re inside, she moved from me when I came near, and once she’s cornered, I got hold of her and kissed her. She didn’t respond.

This game continued until we were tired. She fell on the mattress, and I on top. She was stretched out under me, breathing quickly, her eyes giving me that half-pissed, half-horny look. I grabbed her wrists, slamming them down above her head onto the mattress so she couldn’t squirm away.

I went for her lips—she fought it at first, turning her head. But I didn’t let up, and soon she was kissing me back, hot and messy. After we made out, I let go of her arms, flopped my head onto her chest, and just chilled there on top of her, her fingers messing with my hair till we both passed out.

My drool ended up leaving a wet spot on her dress, and she woke up like, “Look what you did, idiot.” I just grinned and licked her lips, shutting her up. We got up and left for her PG. I dropped her and returned.

The next day, she was careful. She returned to her PG on her own. We’re talking at night. During the conversation, I mentioned I’m not looking for a serious relationship that leads to marriage. I want to be with you forever and stay unmarried. I don’t want to marry you.

My last relationship ended cause we’re from different communities. Even if we’re from the same, I would still not marry you cause I would like to be child-free. I don’t want to rob that joy from you. She has no words to speak. Being her 1st love, she has different expectations.

She knows inter caste marriage might not work out. We’re physically distant for the next few weeks. But we’re discussing this every day, as well as our other experiences. We got to know each other well.

Things changed in the office as well. We both moved to different projects. Our project was at the end, and she moved to another project. I was moved to the bench and was supporting another team until a new project was assigned. I went back home and started WFH for more than a month.

So we didn’t see each other as I was not in the city. Communication between us remained minimal. I moved back to the city after moving to a new project. I was paired with another girl, Sangeeta, from that project. She had more experience and was a year older than I was.

We are both working from this office. Others are working from another office in a different location. Slowly, we got to know each other and got comfortable with each other. We three sit together during lunch, along with others. Sangeeta and I are both dirty-minded.

She’s currently in a relationship, but that doesn’t stop her from cracking dirty jokes. She’s shorter than Swati but curvier than her. Her boyfriend doesn’t live in the same city. She has been away from sex for more than 5 months. I offered help.

She said she would only think about it when there is no one else left on the planet. I said thanks for consideration, and I won’t let her down. We both also got comfortable sharing porn links. One day, in a conversation, I asked her about her bra size. She teased me to find out for myself.

I said it’s hard here to examine now, why don’t you say it? She said no, and I took a guess and said 34d. She was shocked and shy that I said the right answer. I took her phone and went through her bra collection in the orders section. We talked about bras and browsed some new models.

One day by accident my hand touched her boob. I hadn’t noticed. She was checking if anyone saw. Hopefully, no one sits in our front row. I asked her, “Did my hand touch your boob?” She smiled and said yes. I started pleading with her, “Can I touch it again? I wasn’t aware last time.”

She said no, someone will see us. I said no one would see us, and we’re in the end. Don’t worry, let me touch it once. She said no, but I took my left hand and placed it on her left boob. She removed it. I said no one can see and kept it again. She’s okay this time.

I was feeling the shape of her boobs without pressing them. I asked her, “Can I press them?” She said no, only touch. I said Let me do it once and pressed the right one. She removed my hand and said Enough. I showed my dick was hard. She placed her left hand on it and pressed it over my jeans.

She asked its size. I said more than 6 inches. She said, “Nice size.” I asked, “Have you seen a big one?” She said her first lover had a big dick, maybe 7 inches. “What about your current boyfriend?” I asked. She said he has 6 inches. “Are you satisfied now?” I asked.

She said, “Ya! It’s enough, it touches my insides, but I love the sight of big dicks.”

“Do you miss it?” I asked. “Yes! I have his dick pics saved on my phone.”

“Can I see them? Are there any of your nudes among them?”

She opened her hidden folder and showed me a few pics. There are erection pics of her ex and later one pic shows her holding the dick with her left hand. A few pics were taken with a single bath towel around them. She also showed her nudes.

One in which she’s kissing his dick and a few pics where he is sucking her boobs. I said my dick was hard again. She kept her left hand on it until I finished browsing the pics. I asked her if she liked to see my dick. She said yes. I suggested we sneak into the washroom after 8, as no one is left in the office.

We usually have a team call at 7 PM. The security sits in the lobby so that we won’t get caught. Later in the evening, she went to the washroom and I sneaked in after a minute and entered her stall. I started kissing her and pressing her boobs.

She stopped me and said, “Hurry up, I need to go, show me once, and we’ll leave.” She sat on the commode and undid my pants. She started examining my cock. I asked her to give a blowjob. She planted a few kisses from the start and started blowing it while I was pressing her boobs.

After a few minutes, I finished in her mouth. We cleaned with a tissue and came out of the office. She whispered, “Let’s not do this again,” her voice all sultry. But her eyes begged for more. I leaned close, my lips brushing her ear, “Screw that—let’s fuck once, hard and deep, then walk away.”

She trembled, her breath catching, “I’m ovulating, need a morning-after pill.”

“Condom’s cool,” I growled, but she pressed tight against me, her voice low, “I tasted you raw, condoms suck.” We picked a hotel, dashed home to grab clothes for tomorrow, hearts pounding. She wanted a drink, so we hit a cosy restaurant, tossing back some shots that lit us up. Her eyes burned into mine.

At the hotel, we flopped onto the bed, my hand sliding over her juicy boobs, teasing her nipples through her top. “Strip,” I said, my voice rough with want. “You go first,” she teased, smirking. I yanked off my clothes, my cock rock-hard, straining for her.

“Lights off,” she purred, and I killed them, diving back to her in the dark. She grabbed my dick, her grip bold and hot. I peeled off her clothes, her soft skin driving me wild. She slipped under the blanket, naked and ready, and I joined her, our bodies pressed tight.

I climbed on top, kissing her hard, my tongue deep in her mouth as her legs spread wide for me. My hands squeezed her boobs, thumbs flicking her stiff nipples, making her moan. She took my dick in her right hand and guided it to her opening. I asked her, “Should I put it in?” and she said yes.

I pushed forward, and it was inside. Her hand shifted to my hip. We rocked together, my thrusts deep and steady, her moans growing louder as she clawed my back, her pussy tight around me. I’m about to cum. I took it out and went for her boobs, started sucking her left boob and rubbing her pussy.

She came on top of me, sat on my dick. Once it was inside, she started grinding it and later fucking it. She bent and rested her boobs on me. I grabbed her hips and started fucking her. Her breaths turned to gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders as she rode me harder, whispering, “Don’t stop.”

I flipped her onto her back, pinning her wrists, and pounded deeper. Her legs wrapped tightly around me. She moaned my name, her body shaking as we pushed each other to the edge, sweat slicking our skin. Her pussy clenched tight, and she gasped, “I’m cumming!”

I thrust faster, her cries filling the room. I pumped out my cum, filling her hole. She lay there, panting, her eyes locked on mine, a naughty smirk curling her lips as we caught our breath, bodies still buzzing from the heat. I traced my fingers down her curves, teasing her sensitive skin.

She shivered, pulling me close for a slow, hungry kiss. “You’re trouble,” she murmured, her hand grazing my cock again, hinting we weren’t done yet.
She kept playing with my cock. I asked, “What are you doing?” She replied, “I like holding the soft ones.”

It was 30 minutes to midnight. We were talking about relationships and how they’ll end up like the Titanic. She switched to sucking my soft dick. She kept sucking until it was hard, then came by my side and started kissing me. I asked her, “Why did you stop?”

She replied, “Don’t cum, I need it on my boobs in the morning.” She climbed on top of me, sat on my hard dick, and started rubbing it against my stomach. Soon my cock was wet from her wetness. We kept kissing and rubbing each other’s private parts.

She sat on my thighs, took my ball sack. I kept rubbing it on her pussy until she finished. We both slept on our left side, closer to each other.

In the morning, I had my usual morning wood. I moved a little closer to hug her and wake her up, kissing her neck. She took my dick and started rubbing her clit. I moved on top, and she guided my penis inside her. We fucked in this position for minutes.

I changed my position, sucking her boobs and inserting two fingers inside her. While sucking her boobs, I kept rubbing her pussy, inserting my fingers, and rubbing her insides. She kept stroking my dick to keep it hard. I moved on top again, this time placing my dick between her boobs.

She held them closer. I kept fucking until I finished, applying my cum on her boobs and face. We moved to the shower. I started cleaning her body while she held my cock. She wanted to clean my dick, taking time to clean my uncut cock and balls. By the time she finished, it was hard again.

She knelt and gave me a blowjob until I finished in her mouth. We dried each other. She was about to dress, but I asked her to lie on the bed for a bit, saying, “I’m not going to see these boobs again.” She handed me my phone and said to take pictures without her face.

We took pictures together naked, then got dressed. We left the hotel after breakfast, and she took her pill. We slid back to our old life, like me and Sangeeta never fucked in that hotel, everything back to how it was. No word about that night, not one dirty hint.

But we’re tighter now, like we share a hot secret. Trust between us has increased. She shares everything with me in the office—what’s happening in her life, what she did last night, all that shit. I open up too, spilling stuff in our chats. She asked about Swati.

I said, “We’re interested, but we don’t wanna commit.” She grinned, “Fuck her anyway.” I laughed, “Nah, she’s only looking for a committed relationship.” Sangeeta ignores physical boundaries now, doesn’t care if her boobs brush me or if I touch her anywhere.

Whenever her boobs touch me, I say, “Don’t make me hard.” She smirks, “That’s for fucking me.” If I’m hard and tell her, she touches it, presses it to check, then does nothing, leaving my dick throbbing.

One day, while I was using my phone, she leaned in close to look. Her left boob completely resting on my left hand, all soft and warm. My cock twitched, hard as fuck. Swati noticed her eyes burning. Later, on our phone call, she snapped, “What’s with her boob on you?”

I said, “Might be an accident, but we trust each other.” She’s not convinced, bitching hard, but can’t do shit. This keeps going for weeks. Her boobs brushing me, my dick stirring, us chatting like best buds, tight as fuck with this naughty vibe.

One night, I was sprawled on my couch, scrolling through Instagram, when my phone lit up with a text. Not Swati—Keerthi. My ex. My heart did a weird flip. We’d broken up a couple of years ago, a messy split after months of fire and fights.

She was wild, unpredictable, and the sex had been insane—raw, no-holds-barred. Her boobs bouncing as she rode me, her pussy gripping me tight. I hadn’t heard from her since she’d moved to another city. Now here she was, her name glowing on my screen.

Keerthi: Hey, do you remember me?

Me: Keerthi? Maybe. Why do you care?

Keerthi: Planning to visit. Are you available?

Me: Why?

Keerthi: Switching to a new job, my joining is on Monday. Thinking you’d help for old times’ sake.

Me: What help do you need from me?

Keerthi: The location isn’t finalised yet, so I think I’ll stay with you and move out after a week.

Me: I don’t mind if your bf doesn’t mind.

Keerthi: I’m not in a relationship anymore. You don’t need to worry about anyone.

Me: I don’t care, I don’t need drama. I’m only seeking peace over pleasure these days, thanks to you.

Keerthi: So, no gf yet?

Me: Why do you care? Anyway, I’m not going to give you any information. Suffer in oblivion.

Keerthi: Don’t be harsh on me.

Me: I’m being realistic and a different person now.

Keerthi: But still, you’re the person who loves me to some extent. Okay, pick me up tomorrow. I’ll drop it off early by 6.

Now Keerthi is coming back into my life again. She does this constantly, comes back, talks for a few hours, and leaves. This time she’s coming to stay with me. Let’s see how this goes.

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