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H I R O M I H I G U R U M A
You passed by those bold letters plastered across the matted glass of his office almost everyday. After all, your office was a little bit down the hall from his.
Everyone in the firm knew who Hiromi Higuruma was. For one, he was perhaps the most talented man working there. But also because he was the finest man you have ever laid your eyes upon.
Hiromi always came to work looking sleek and prepared for the day. You would never catch him dead with tousled hair or his suit disheveled.
In fact, people slowly became jealous of his secretary. She spent all hours of her working day right in front of his office, relaying calls to him, and accompanying him in several errands.
It was ridiculous. His secretary probably had grandchildren at her age. But you understood why anyone would be jealous.
Part of you wanted to spend time with the stoic and brooding man too. But it was tough. Too fucking tough.
He wasn't the type to engage in pleasantries or make himself available for too long at office events. You've been working at the firm for so long, yet you barely knew anything about him outside of his achievements. It was almost impossible, you thought.
That was until you, as a paralegal, were requested by him.
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All those years of hard work finally paid off now that the biggest shot at the firm took notice of you. It was your chance to prove yourself at work and to Hiromi. Of course, it was a primary goal to impress him.
The case was demanding, a high-profile one at that as well. It was no surprise that you had to spend many sleepless nights at the office. But you weren't alone—Hiromi was often left to work late hours too.
Sometimes you'd drop off a file or two and discuss a bit. Ordinary stuff, all things considered. However, tonight was different; tensions were high.
You had made a mistake earlier today. You missed a detail and the client had to know about it. There was a whole scene in the office that afternoon. Hiromi had to clean up after your mess. None of it was his fault and he had to embarrass himself for the sake of some paralegal he probably only learned the existence of recently.
Usually, you'd be ecstatic to catch a glimpse of him so late at night. But right now, he was the last person you wanted to see. Hiromi didn't show it, but he was definitely angry.
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You knocked slowly against the open glass door of his office. You were sure it was just the two of you in the building at this hour. At least, if he decides to reprimand you for your shitty performance—no one would have to hear a thing.
Hiromi didn't bother looking up; he knew who it was. He simply nodded in acknowledgement and you let yourself in.
"Here are the files you were asking for earlier," you say as you hand it over to him. Hiromi uses the pen in his hand to point to an empty space of his desk.
It takes you a few seconds too late to understand, but you place the documents neatly before taking a step back. He continued skimming over the document he was currently holding, a bored expression painted on his face.
"Learned your lesson yet?" he asked flatly.
You were hoping not to go over this again, but it was inevitable. "Yes, sir... I'm terribly sorry for what happened earlier. It won't happen again."
"Words... always just words, but it never gets reflected in your performance," he retorts. Hiromi sets down the document in his hand before grabbing the papers that you brought. Still—he hasn't spared you a single glance.
Despite the impartial look on his face, you could tell that he wasn't exactly happy at the moment. You nervously awaited for a comment or critique from him about your work as he proceeded to go over it quickly.
"Are you sure I won't find another mistake in here?"
"Y-yes, sir. I'm certain."
He hummed lowly. "Then I better not see one. You know what'll happen if I do."
Right. You were going to be removed from the case and some other paralegal would take your place. Then, Hiromi would never ever look your way. That fact in particular made you the most anxious you've been thus far.
You watched as his weary eyes scrutinized your work. The black orbs darting quickly from one side to another, his lips still pressed into a thin line.
If you had hoped he would dismiss you without another scolding... oh, you were dead wrong.
Hiromi's eyes squinted at a particular line before dropping the documents on his desk and running his large hand over his face. You felt the blood drain from your face and your heart drop to your stomach. This wasn't good...
He finally looked at you, but with that kind of expression—you'd rather that he not looked at you at all. His dark eyes bore into your skull. No words were spoken yet, but you knew the thoughts running rampant in that head of his.
None of them were good.
"You were certain you made no mistakes—yes?"
"I'm sorry," was all you could mutter. What else was there to say? Nothing would soothe his wrath.
He slammed an open palm against his desk. "What the hell do you do all day in this office? Hm?"
Hiromi stands up, not letting you reply. "Come here," he commands. You had never heard me speak or had seen him look this way. But the stress and frustration at work—coupled with his personal affairs—simmered within him. He was only a man; he too had his limits.
You sheepishly shuffled closer to his desk, head hung low.
"Look at me."
And you do.
Your eyes meet and it stirs an emotion in you that you can't quite put a finger on. He leans in, his smell permeating your nostrils and down to your core. Hiromi smelled good, of course, that much was to be expected.
"Tell me—what the hell do you do all day in this office?"
"I don't know what..."
"You don't know what that means? Can't even answer a simple question?"
He grabs your jaw slowly, applying just enough force to make your lips pucker. "Do you know how humiliated I was earlier because of your mistake?"
You mutter another apology, albeit a bit muffled. Hiromi scoffed in response. "Is that all you can do? Say sorry for every stupid mistake that you make?"
"I'm starting to think all you do here is prance around in your tight clothes, batting your eyelashes at anyone who'd look at you. You like their attention, don't you?"
Hiromi lets go of your face, giving you a chance to speak. "I don't... I don't want their attention... I don't do the things you just said... I..."
"I only want your attention."
His taut expression seemingly softened, though traces of anger were still evident. You added, "Maybe I was trying too hard because I wanted to impress you and in the process I kept messing up more because... because..."
You were a stuttering mess; you weren't even sure why the hell you were telling all of this to him. It was pathetic and unprofessional. But it hardly mattered in an odd situation like this.
"You wanted to impress me?" he asked.
Everyone did; everyone wanted to look good in the eyes of the Hiromi Higuruma. You were no exception to that.
"Yes, sir..."
He takes a step back from his desk, sitting back down on his leather swivel chair. "Come over here," he says as his finger makes a come hither gesture.
You gulped down hard before going around his desk, standing right in front of him. Hiromi still had a bored expression plastered on his face. "On your knees."
Your eyes widened ever so slightly. There was no mistaking his words. He was actually asking you to—
"O-okay," you replied shakily. You dropped down to your knees, but before you could get any closer, he leaned down and grabbed you by the hair; your messy bun became messier. He only did so—not to hurt you—but to make you look at him and to make sure you'd hear him loud and clear.
"You really want to make it up to me?" he asked lowly and you nod.
His fingers slowly detangle from your locks as he leans back in his chair. "You know what to do then. I'm sure you've been waiting to do something like this."
You'd be a fucking liar if you said you haven't dreamt of doing something filthy like this with the hottest man in the office. It only made it better that you were actually doing it inside his office.
You crawled closer to him until your head was between his thighs. It thrilled you straight to your core. Your fingers lightly traced the seam of his trousers before pulling his zipper down. After undoing the button, you slowly tugged the pants and boxers that were in the way. Your mouth almost watered at the sight of his cock—though it was only half hard.
Seeing how it was now—it made you wet thinking about it at its biggest. It was overwhelming now it was actually in your hand. Warmth radiated from it as you brought your face closer.
"You look famished. Fantasized about this before haven't you?"
In response, you simply kissed his tip—earning a hiss from him. You spat on it, letting the glob of saliva trickle down his length before your hand spread it all over. In one go, you took as much as you could in your mouth.
His girth made your eyes water. He relaxed in his chair as if he found peace in your warm mouth, a soft groan slipping from his chapped lips. You made sure to go at an excruciatingly slow pace, not wanting to overwhelm yourself. This might just be your last chance to impress him; you weren't about to fuck it up.
"Guess there is something you can do properly hm?"
A familiar set of fingers tangle in your strands again, slowly guiding your head. "Sucking it so enthusiastically—maybe paralegal work isn't your calling."
All the dirty talk went straight to your sopping cunt, making you moan around his length. He hisses again, "Fuck... you're enjoying this way too much."
He pulls your head away from your cock, taking the time to admire the fucked out expression on your face. Saliva dribbled down your chin as your half-lidded eyes stared back at him.
"Don't wanna cum in your mouth. Stand up," he orders again.
He stands up along with you. Before you could even gain your footing, he had bent you over on his desk—knocking over the stuff that littered the surface.
A gasp escapes you as he roughly pushes your black pencil skirt, bunching it up at your waist. He marveled at your stocking-clad ass. A harsh slap surprised you.
"O-ouch..."
He leans against you, his chest pressing into your back. Hiromi's hand snaked to your front, lightly gripping your neck. You could feel his minty breath against your neck as his nose jabbed your cheek. "That's for the first fuck up."
Then, another slap. "That's for your fuck up now."
Another slap. "And that's just for my own pleasure."
He pulled away, the abrupt absence of his warmth making you feel restless. Your senses were flooded by a plethora of things that you didn't notice how he knelt down in front of your heat. Hiromi wasted no time and ripped the barrier that was your black stockings.
"Fucking slut. You should see how drenched you are right now."
He presses a kiss over your clothed cunt, his nose poking at your hole. You let out a breathless groan, finally nearing some much needed stimulation.
His finger hooks into the gusset before pulling it out of the way. He found it pitiful how you clenched over nothing. He'd give you something to clamp on soon anyway.
Hiromi dove right in, lapping at your folds. He took his sweet time, much like you did with him. His tongue teased the length of your slit first before thrusting it into your neglected hole.
A desperate moan echoed through his office as you squirmed. But Hiromi held you by your ass, making sure you would stay still for him. He went faster and faster, not allowing you to adjust. And in no time, he had you cumming on his tongue.
God, it was unfair that an attractive and talented man like him had to be good at sex too.
The last bit of strength that held you up had disappeared, leaving you slumped over his desk. He reached for his drawer, looking for a condom. As much as he wanted to fuck you raw—let you know reaaaal well the consequences of your actions—Hiromi was still a rational man.
He'd have his fun, safely.
Hiromi wasn't in much of a hurry as he idly rolled the rubber down his cock. Besides, time was probably going slower for you right now. Who would've thought just a little bit of pussy eating would get you undone so quickly?
Pathetic. But Hiromi secretly liked it.
He lazily rubbed himself as he lined his cock against your dripping entrance. There wasn't a chance of him going slow now. Hiromi plunged his entire length into your cunt. Your soft moans came out in unison as the lawyer threw his head back a bit.
It had been a while since he let off some steam... and maybe the first time he had a cute little paralegal bent over his desk.
"Finally got what you wanted? Tell me how much you wanted this."
"Wanted this so much," you blabbered. You could hear yourself and even you were surprised by how shameless you were. Hell, if dick as good as this was going in and out of you—maybe it's not that surprising that he could coax out even the most deprived thoughts in your head.
"Fucking slut. You wore this pretty skirt for me, didn't you?"
"Y-yes. I did."
"Fuck right you did," he says. Hiromi takes your arms and crosses them behind you, grabbing it so he can slam harder into you. His grip was bruising, but the pain was easily overlooked by how good he was making you feel down there.
"Maybe I should keep you on this case—not as paralegal, but as my stress reliever. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
His question was only meant by a strangled moan, but it sufficed. The way you eagerly took him in was more than enough to let him know. "Such a perfect slut," he whispered under his breath.
The relentless snap of his hips had you clenching down and he was definitely feeling it with the way he would suck in through his teeth. He knew you were close and so was he.
"Fuck," he drawled out. "Pussy so good... making me cum too quickly for my liking."
Hiromi let go of your arms, letting them fall to your sides. Instead, he grabbed on to your hips, pulling you into his. The lewd squelching sounds along with your moans were certainly heard from beyond his glass office.
"Sir... I'm so close... shit."
He took that as a sign to keep up his maddening pace. Your orgasm came crashing and white spots flooded your vision. If it weren't for him holding up your hips, you would've been completely slouched on the wooden desk.
"Fuck... take it all," he says before his thrust become sloppy. Eventually, he released into the rubber. Hiromi rode out the last few seconds of his climax before slipping out of you. As he took his hands off your flesh, his hand prints were left as a souvenir.
He took the rubber off his sensitive length, tying it up and chucking it into the trash bin. Hiromi sat back down, exhausted, while you were still bent over his desk. Perhaps it'll be a while before you'd gain your strength again.
Until then, he'll admire your pretty pink pussy.