Running Late

Running Late

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


This is a short story I originally wrote for a Mills & Boon challenge. Took me almost 2 hours to write, check it out!


This is a short story I originally wrote for a Mills & Boon challenge. Took me almost 2 hours to write, check it out!


Submitted: September 05, 2013

A A A | A A A


Submitted: September 05, 2013



Glenn staggered into her one bedroom apartment uptown, kicking off her shoes and sinking sloppily into her couch. The automatic fan began to spin with ferocity, pulling a sigh of relief from her lips. She had worked up a sweat in the summer heat, and she was downright exhausted.


Her boss Peter had begged her to do overtime. Her skills with design towered over everyone else in the office, and he knew that if anyone could finish the presentation for Mills & Boon by Friday morning, it was Glenn. She removed her blouse and scuffed barefoot across the hardwood floor, removing pieces of clothes until she reached her bathroom. Like any woman her age, she had an unbreakable habit. She stopped in front of the mirror and began to judge herself.


The humidity had worked her long brunette hair into a mess, and the midnight heat had caused her pale skin to blush. Even so, she was in no way unattractive. The years after high school had done no harm, and her body was as alluring as it had been since her first prom. Her breasts were perky and complimented the slender fall of her shoulders. The outline of her body sank gracefully at her torso, and then exploded with generosity at her hips. Her thighs, from years of constant Pilates, had been beaten into shape. Not an inch of her could be complained about.



She was still unhappy. Even with her body, amazing personality, and wicked skills as a cook. She had been without a man for almost 5 years. After spending 4 years in college, she had done nothing but work. With nothing but utmost dedication, she had clawed ferociously at her craft. Not a single woman in New York could produce digital designs as creative as she could; her pay and respect in the field reflected that.


But she was alone.


“Maybe I should take off of work this week” she pondered as she showered. She often had these ideas; followed by thoughts of going to a club, or eating out in a fancy dinner. But in a flash, the thought would be crushed be the realization that she had no one to hang out with anyway. Her career was always demanding, and after a while it had eventually worked her into a corner.


The next morning she awoke tired and still spent from the extra hours she worked the day before. It was Friday morning, yet she hated it as much as any Monday. She rolled out of bed and combed her fingers through her hair. Her mind was filled with thoughts of coffee and Brad Pitt, begging her to get out of bed. At the corner of her eye, the alarm clock exploded with violent beeps and buzzes. Her eyes shot opened and she noticed the time

She was late for her presentation.


With a complete sense of urgency she bounced around the apartment, throwing on clothes and simultaneously combing her hair. The images of coffee and Brad Pitt were quickly overtaken by curse words and larger coffees. She hailed a taxi to her office in midtown. The meeting was starting in 5 minutes, and she was 12 minutes away.


“Ignore traffic and get me there!” she blurted out to the driver, “I’ll pay you double if you get me there in 5 minutes!”


The driver’s ears rung with glee and as he stomped on the gas pedal. He had seen this in movies but never actually expected it to happen.


“You still have to get me there alive!” she yelled again, grabbing the door handle tightly. The ticking of her watch patronized her, almost teasing her with time. They finally arrived about 3 minutes late, but she still paid the driver double anyway. His face was overcome with satisfaction as he passed her his business card. She galloped into the building, ignoring the greetings of her co-workers and was dead set on getting to the conference room. Right when her hand met the knob of the door, it swung open on its own. Peter stood there with a scowl frozen on his face.


“Glenn!” he perked, releasing the glare in his eyes. “We’re so glad to have you join us!”


Glenn smirked dreadfully, knowing that she was going to get an earful from him later, but luckily they were in front of clients, and for not it was time to work. She walked into the room and was greeted by a surprise.

“Hi,” she said nervously, reaching out her hand. “I’m your designer, Glenn Murkov.”


“Hello, “the man replied deeply, “I’m Samuel King, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”


“I don’t mean to be rude, Samuel,” she continued. “But I thought this meeting would be with Flo and Kathryn.”

“You can call me Sam, and they outsourced the meeting to me,” he smirked gently, “is that a problem?”


“Of course not!” she panicked, “not at all!”


Glenn melted into her seat. She was overcome by the man’s presence. If she knew she would be meeting him, she would’ve doubled her effort this morning. He sat tall, with wide shoulders and a stern posture. His hair was light brown and was well kempt.


“God, his eyes,” Glenn thought. They were a caramel hazel. They shined brightly as the sun reflected off of them, calling her to attention. His chin was chiseled and cradled the sweet allure of his full lips. When he smiled, Glenn could feel her lacking energy being sapped from her skin. A warm tender buzz started to flutter in her stomach, and she had lost her words.


“Well Glenn?” Peter interrupted.


“Ah, y-yes - where were we?” Glenn reached over to the presentation laptop and quickly pattered her fingers across the keyboard. Sam’s eyes were glued on her, scanning over her with his gaze. Even without looking at him, Glenn could feel his eyes piercing her. She felt uneasy, still fatigued from the day prior. She rose from her seat and turned on the projector.


His eyes followed her every movement.


“So I wanted to give this cover a bit of-” Glenn froze. Her head felt woozy and light, seemingly making the room go dark. Sam and Peter sat silently, confused by her sudden light headedness. “Glamor,” she finally finished.


“Since we’re targeting women ages 40 to 51, I made sure to use darker yet feminine colors.” In a wave of heat, she blinked and her body swayed. Her legs collapsed beneath her as she lost control. Samuel shot from his seat, pushing the table out of his way and catching her gently against his chest.  


“Woah, woah,” he said worriedly. She had already passed out. Her body relaxed limply in his arms: frail, motionless, and slender.


When she awoke, she was lying alone on the couch of her office. The air conditioner was on and had bought the room to an unsatisfying chill. She stood to turn it off, but her legs caved under her again. She regretted choosing to wear the skirt she had on, and the loose fitting blouse that offered absolutely no weather protection. She regretted working overtime and sleeping late, and she regretted bombing the meeting.


The meeting


The thought of embarrassing herself in front of Sam had started to run circles in her head. How could she not only embarrass herself at work, but in front of a man as handsome as him.


As if fate had orchestrated it himself. Sam walked through the door, carrying a tall glass of cold water topped with ice.


“Ah, you’re awake,” he smirked, letting out a smooth sigh. Glenn shuttered, once again confused by his presence.


“What are you still doing here, Sam?” She asked, rubbing her hands across her arms and thighs for warmth. Sam picked up on her cues and shut off the air conditioner before taking a seat on the couch besides her.


“I couldn’t just leave a damsel in distress,” he teased, handing the glass of water to her. It was too late for the water. Her body was already cold and couldn’t bear losing a single degree more. She placed the cup down on the coffee table, and returned to warming herself.


“What’s that over there?” Sam asked as he began rubbing his hands together. Glenn turned her head and saw a long, colorful poster that stood out in her room. It was a large print out of the first book cover she had ever done. The author loved it so much, that she sent Glenn a free copy of her book. Ironically, it was the first erotica cover she had ever designed as well. The cover showed a woman's bare breast resting seductively against the chest of a man. His hand had cradled the curve of her hips, pulling her deeply against his. Glenn smiled as she remembered how excited the author had been.


“It was the first cover I had ever-”


In a warm surprise, Sam placed his hands on her shoulders and began giving a deep massage. She was surprised, but the stress and fatigue that overwhelmed her begged him to continue. Her lips were glued shut as she released a small whimper under the pressure. His hands were big, and his fingers slender. He easily mended the muscles that had been battered by hours and hours of desk work, letting the warmth of his hands ooze through her tattered body. She melted between his fingers like warm chocolate, slowly letting her body sink into his.


“Well aren’t we relaxed,” he whispered inches from her ear. Her eyes were closed and his voice leaked through her conscious. It was deep yet tender. He beckoned a confidence that only he seemed to have.


She had fallen for him before even knowing who he was.


“You know,” he continued to tease with his voice, sliding his hands tantalizingly down her arm. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you the second you walked into that room.”


“I know,” she swallowed, barely able to hold her focus. His hands began to massage the base of her back. Working its way up her blouse and massaging and kneading her muscles into submission. His hands reached around, sliding down the outline of her hips until he reached her thighs. With ease, he took her thighs into his hands. Mending and rubbing them with the perfect amount of strength. Almost as if he knew her body better than she did. Her body had become warm, and she could feel the pressure of her nipples poking and pressing against her bra. An intolerable throb began to emit from her very core, roaring in desperate demand for his touch.


Mmhm,” she moaned in a whimper. Her breath quickened and her body forcibly slid towards his. Before she knew it her back was resting comfortably on his chest, and her hips had sunk deeply into his lap. His face was pushed gently against hers, letting his voice and erotic whispers course over her lips. She wanted more and her body openly begged for it. He slid his hand up her thigh, brushing the skirt that hid away her body. His fingers met the frill of her panties, sending a shiver up her spine. Her body trembled in anticipation as his fingers gently coursed over her lower lips. Her body shuttered, almost forgetting what it was like for someone else to hold her, to please her. Her nails sunk into his arm as she turned her head and buried it in the protection of the couch. She blushed at the feel of his bulge pressing hungrily against her back.


She sort of felt like she was back in high school


His fingers brushed against her core, tracing tenderly along her damping lips until he reached the tense perking of her clit. With a strong grace, he circled her moistened tip between his fingers, stroking and pinning it in place. Her hips rocked in lust, melting against the enticing temptation of his fingers. Her hand released his arm and slid down till it met his hands. The warm hand that had pulled everything she had left inside her. He used both hands and pulled her panties down to her knees. He didn’t remove them, but instead left them there, controlling the movement of her legs.

“Come on,” he demanded, standing up in front of her demandingly. Her body spun around on command. He pulled her up by the ankle until her back laid against the couch and her legs were up in the air. She could no longer hide her flushed cheek. He slid his head in between her legs, letting her thighs lock onto his shoulders. His tongue started to slide a trail of saliva down her inner thigh. It was warm and pleasant, heating her body even more. The chill of the room had become irrelevant, because at that moment she felt as if she could burst into flames. With a flick, he took her lustfully between his wet lips, licking and lapping until a crude moan slipped from her lips. Her hips arched and her legs tightened, begging him to dig deeply into her. He drained her existence through his tongue, sucking her greedily against the pressure of his lips. A trail of succulent nectar dripped down the curve of his chin, dripping down and dousing the couch in her juices. He took his free hand and slipped his long fingers into her fold. She locked tightly onto him, grinding to every thrust of his arm. Her fingers clung to his hair, pulling his head as closely to her as she bit feverishly into her bottom lip. Then in a heavy explosion she gasped. Fighting for air as her body compressed then released in uncontrollable spasms. He removed his head and wiped his face with a napkin. She laid on the couch, still shaking and weak from the pleasure. Her body was hotter than the summer could ever render her, and at that moment she felt as if she could faint again. She sat up scoured the table for the water she just had. Her eyes darted towards Sam and saw him downing the cup with ease.


“I thought you didn’t want it,” he teased, finishing the cup.


“its fine,” she said, straddling his lap and pulling a deep wet kiss from his lips.  


“I've got a nice cold drink right here.”


© Copyright 2019 LJ Walker. All rights reserved.

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