• Category Archives at work
  • One Fine Day At The Office

    I work in a large industrial plant where various departments have to work together on projects to get the job done right and on time. On this particular project we needed the help or assistance of another engineering department that we normally don’t deal with. My job puts me in the position of being an assistant to my department head at times. I don’t have any authority, but get the cheap thrill of attending some pretty boring meetings and having to deal with the assistant heads of other departments who also have no authority and cannot make decisions. The assistant department head of the other engineering department was Pam Goodman. I had seen her around for several months. She was very sexy, had a great body, and being and engineer herself, was no dummy. I would also like to point out that she had always appeared very professional and never flirted that I had ever seen. Now keep in mind that this is the nineties and making a pass at a woman at work can get your ass in deep shit if you aren’t very careful. Sexual harassment and all that. If you tell the wrong woman she has a great ass, it could be you last day on that job.

    Recently I have had a number phone conversations with Pam. After the first few, she started sounding rather sexy on the phone and dropped a few sexual innuendoes, but they weren’t too blatant. The more I had talked to her the more innuendoes she had used and the more blatant they had become. It was like she had sex on the brain and I was turning her on even though I was being very careful about what I said. Maybe she had picked up that I was watching what I said, figured I would love to have flirted with her but was afraid to, and took it as a challenge. The last call was the one that got even more suggestive. During the conversation I had to admit that I had forgotten to get something done and that it had been a hard day.

    “So, who made you hard today?” she asked.

    “Made me hard today? Interesting choice of words.”

    “Did you see some woman showing a little cleavage or something?”

    So much for my wondering if that juxtaposition of words had been an accident, though I had been pretty sure it wasn’t. “No, I said I had a hard day, not that I got hard today, though that did happen too.”

    “Like I said, who made you hard today? I know you had a hard day, but who made you hard? I would think that would be a high point in your day.”

    “Oh, I’d rather not say.” As little as I knew her at this point I wasn’t going to tell her it was her cute ass walking down the hall that had given me the hardon. This conversation was getting interesting, but I was defiantly going to let her lead it.

    “You’re no fun. I thought you might have gotten flashed or something. Ever had that happen? Any of the women here ever flash you?”

    “No, I can’t say that that has ever happened. I wouldn’t mind it, but it hasn’t happened yet. Why, have you ever done any flashing here?”

    “Maybe.”

    “Not telling?”

    “No. Maybe you ought to pay more attention. It goes on around here a lot more than you might think.”
    Continue reading  Post ID 619


  • Secret Party Slut

    “How did it go tonight?” I asked my wife as she returned home.

    “Okay.” She replied, trying to muster up a smile as she did so.

    Of course I knew how her night had went. I knew exactly where she had been and exactly what she had done, because I had watched her doing it. She had been fucked by at least seven different guys.

    I should have been livid, I should have packed my bags and left her, but I now knew that she had been a reluctant participant in the events I had witnessed. And I knew that she was doing it for us. Sounds strange, but it was true.

    The whole thing started a few months ago, really when she lost her job due to the economic downturn. We were struggling to pay the bills, even with the little extra I was making in over-time; when her friend Kelly suggested that she could make good money working with her as an events organizer. Initially Susan was enthusiastic, especially when Kelly told her how much she could make, but after one night when she went with Kelly to an event she decided that it wasn’t for her. I couldn’t draw her on what the problem was so I left it at that.

    A couple of months after that first event, Susan told me she was going to help Kelly with her next party, she seemed hesitant and again I asked her what the problem was, and again she was non-committal.

    The night of the event came along and I could sense that she was almost dreading going out to it, of course now I know why, but at the time it all seemed very odd, I put it down to first time nerves and a lack of confidence. She made £1000 that night and I was ecstatic.

    Looking back I can see it was then that things started to go sour between us. She lost her interest in sex, and she seemed to be more and more depressed. In the months that followed she helped Kelly at three more events and earned another £3000, but sank deeper into the gloom that had enveloped her.

    I eventually came to the conclusion that she was having an affair, stupid I know, but how could I have guessed that the problem really was that she was working as a high-class call girl.

    I came to the conclusion that the man she was seeing behind my back must work with her, so I decided to follow her to the next event and find out exactly what was going on.

    Kelly picked up my wife shortly before 8pm that Saturday night; I was already outside the house, waiting further down the street in a rented car, so when Kelly pulled onto the street and drove past me, I discreetly followed them. After about 30 minutes they pulled into the busy driveway of a large detached villa somewhere in the suburbs. The house was brightly lit and was surrounded by trees set back from a small lawn. The property was enclosed by a high wooden fence, but I scaled it easily enough and waited, hidden in the trees to see what I could make out from the outside.
    Continue reading  Post ID 619


  • Under The Table

    James pulled the big Chrysler to the front entrance of the Ritz Carlton, then turned his head and chuckled as he watched Louisa pull down the visor mirror to check her makeup for perhaps the tenth time during the short drive from the office to the hotel.

    “You look beautiful,” he said, and Louisa blushed at such an effusive comment coming from her boss, a recently-divorced man twenty-five years her senior. He looked pretty damned nice as well, she thought, in his dark blue suit and red tie. She was the first to admit that she loved a man in a suit, and he filled his out perfectly. The invitation had said ‘cocktail attire’; she hadn’t known what that meant, but hoped her green halter dress and black shawl would not be out of place.

    It was the MAEM Awards. Though she’d asked repeatedly, Louisa couldn’t remember what the acronym stood for, but she knew it had something to do with marketing. She had only worked at the magazine for a month or so when James asked if she’d like to attend the dressy shindig with the rest of the staff, and naturally, she had said yes. Not because she gave a rat’s ass about the advertising business, of course, but because it would give her an opportunity to make her move. After tonight, she might well be unemployed, riding the next bus back to Indiana. But after weeks of analyzing and fanaticizing, she was ready to risk it all.

    Inside, about six hundred people, mostly impossibly attractive, impeccably dressed and coifed advertising executives, packed the Grand Hall, milling about and making liberal use of the bar. The theme was something Spanish-related, apparently, as a salsa band blared and flamenco dancers whirled on a raised platform at the front of the room. Then, directed by some imperceptible signal, everyone broke from their chatty clusters to array themselves at tables of ten. Louisa slid into the chair beside her boss as the lights dimmed, a massive screen appeared, and what promised to be an interminable multimedia presentation of winners began.

    “Get comfortable – this is going to take a while,” he said to her as he poured her a glass of wine. Had he been keeping track, he would have realized it was her fourth.

    Beneath the table, James’s legs bumped Louisa’s, but neither of them pulled back or muttered apologies. They were knee to knee, wool suit pants touching silken leg. Impulsively, beneath the folds of the tablecloth, Louisa gently put her hand on his upper leg and squeezed.

    James glanced at her, a bit surprised, and smiled. Louisa smiled in return and moved her hand slightly, a bit higher.
    Continue reading  Post ID 619


  • Taking Stress Out Of Business Travel

    It had already been a hell of a business trip, but we were finally nearing the end of the long haul. Dean, Linda and I had travelled from vendor to vendor, each of them desperately trying to impress us with their products. Each vendor in turn had taken us to visit reference customers who were clearly only putting up with our visits out of politeness to the vendors.

    We had tried to minimise the stress of days filled with business visits and almost non-stop travelling by ensuring that we were booked into good hotels each night, but this had not really helped much – we arrived so late each evening and left so early the following morning that we got no time to appreciate any individuality they might offer.

    We had definitely had enough.

    This evening was not only almost the end of the trip; it was also our first real opportunity to relax. Our reference visit had completed at a sensible time and for a change we didn’t have a vendor insisting on taking us out for dinner. We were even spending our second consecutive night in the same hotel – absolute bliss.

    Returning to the hotel by mid-afternoon we agreed to settle into our rooms and then to meet again an hour or so later. With our first real spell of leisure time on our hands we went for a slow wander through the streets of the city interspersed with a few drinks in local bars. Our walk conclude with a good meal at a nearby restaurant during the course of which we all shared a few of bottles of wine.

    By 10 o’clock we were back at the hotel rested, cheerful and weaving only slightly. Dean decided he was too tired to want to do anything other than get an early night and, making his excuses, he headed off to his room.

    As Dean headed off I said to Linda, “I fancied another drink myself, are you retiring too, or can I offer to buy you a drink?”

    Several drinks later we were still at the bar, it was starting to get late and the bar was emptying out. The conversation had turned to TV and how little there seemed to be that was worth watching. Suddenly Linda said, “It’s so bad not even the porn channels are worth watching.”

    For a moment I wondered if I had heard her properly, so trying to keep my expression as normal as possible I replied, “You’ve done an extensive survey on them then, have you?” I felt this was sufficiently neutral to avoid embarrassing her if I had heard her wrongly.

    “Well I wouldn’t call it extensive. We’ve hardly had much time on our own in these hotels, but I’ve seen enough to know that as porn goes it’s a long way from the best.”

    I had heard correctly.

    What I said was, “You don’t seriously watch porn on the hotel TV do you? Don’t you worry about what will appear on your bill?” but in reality I was stunned by her frankness. Although I had not worked with her much I knew she had a reputation for being a hard-working, ambitious career woman known for her dedication to the projects on which she worked. Watching pornography was an activity which just didn’t fit in with this image and admitting to it seemed even more out of kilter.

    She didn’t appear at all put out by my obvious astonishment. She simply shrugged her shoulders and said, “Why shouldn’t I watch it? It just appears on the bill as a movie and as I’ve been away from home for more than a week for the company I don’t see why they can’t pay a little bit towards relieving the boredom.”

    “But you just said it’s not very good, so why bother?”

    Not only did she not seem put out by the question but she looked amused as she answered, “it may not be the best, but it’s better than nothing when you’ve been on the road for over a week.” She looked at me speculatively and went on “don’t tell me you never get bored or frustrated on a trip like this?”

    I wasn’t used to a woman I hardly knew speaking so openly but then both of us were far from sober by this time and the alcohol kept any embarrassment at bay. I responded, “Bored and frustrated, well yes to a degree, but I don’t know, I’ve just never …” I left the sentence unfinished as I struggled to think of a response and instead challenged her in return, “… anyway how do you know it’s not that good? Lots to compare it with have you?”
    Continue reading  Post ID 619


  • Lunch With Kinky Office Guy

    Another day, another dollar, as the saying goes, but like most people, Reanne dreaded the boring routine that work brings. The same job, the same questions, the same answers, dull, dull, dull.

    The only thing that brightens the day is the hour she gets for lunch. Her special time to get away from things, but today is different. There is a certain electricity in the air, something is going to happen, she’s just not sure what.

    On the drive into work, Reanne’s mind wanders off on the possibilities of what today might bring. She knows he will be there and she’s noticed that he’s paying a lot more attention to her lately. Is it the new cut and color? Spending an insane amount of money, she decided that she better like the new look. Maybe it’s the confidence that exudes from her that’s drawn his attention. Either way, she’s certainly liked being noticed.

    The drive is longer than normal; traffic seems to be moving at a snail’s pace. Reanne looks at the speedometer, 45mph. It seems more like 15mph. Her thoughts flash a picture of Alex, her fantasy man. Tall, dark salt and pepper hair, goatee, nice ass too, she decides. Reanne has wondered what a night with him would be like – even an afternoon, she thinks and silently giggles. Better keep that thought tucked safe in my head, she thinks to herself.

    Upon arriving at the office, Reanne starts her day with the same routine. Having been there only a few minutes, she is already bored. She looks around to see if he is at his desk, hoping that no one notices as she fidgets at her desk. Cannot have the whole office thinking that there is something going on. Her nipples harden from the chill of the air conditioners, or is it the thought of him kissing her neck.

    Boink!

    Her computer beeps with an incoming email. It’s from Misty, the busybody in the office. She always knows everyone’s business. Reanne opens the email. It’s a luncheon invitation.

    “Hmm, well at least I can get the scoop on everyone if I go with her,” she tells no one in particular.

    She begins to type her acceptance when the computer boinks again with another email. Just about ready to hit the send button in reply to Misty’s email, Reanne notices that electricity again. Something, instinct perhaps, tells her to open the incoming mail.

    It’s not an inter-office email this time, but from a name she’s not familiar with. It reads, Subject- What’s up?

    About to delete it, Reanne notices the sender’s sine.

    Kinkyofficeguy.

    Intrigued, she decides to take the chance of infecting the computer by opening an email from an unknown source.

    “Kinkyofficeguy, hmm?”

    More electricity courses through her body as she opens the email and sees a short note.

    “Please join me for an unforgettable lunch.”

    Her heart quickens. Could this be him?

    The mind is a funny thing. Perhaps as a protection mechanism, a picture of the boss flashes in her head. He’s a really nice man, but nothing to look at. Another thought of him naked, sitting behind his desk, motioning for her to come into his office, telling her to close the door flashes in Reanne’s head.

    “Eewwww”, she hears herself say out loud.

    She hits the send button for Misty’s email.

    “Lunch sounds good. I’ll meet you at your cube at 1130a”.

    She then deletes kinkyofficeguy’s email without a response.

    The morning goes by in it’s usual slowness. The clock says 1115a.

    Boink! Another email.

    Subject-Lunch, sender-Misty.

    What now! Reanne wonders.

    “Sorry, husband just called, can’t make lunch. Maybe tomorrow?” the message reads.

    Reanne replies with her regrets, saying that she hopes everything is ok. She decides to go to the park and fantasize some more. As she gets up to leave, her computer boinks again. Reanne decides to read it after lunch and walks out.

    Not feeling very hungry, she finds a nice spot with just enough shade to keep her from getting too hot while sitting in her car. Her eyes close as she listens to the radio. Her mind wanders.

    Boink! Another message from kinkyofficeguy.

    Subject-office play.

    Why does he keep sending me messages? she asks herself. Almost ready to delete it again, she changes her mind.

    “Lets see what the boss has in mind!” she says aloud.

    Message- Cuffs, blindfolds, leather straps. Sound interesting?

    If it hadn’t been such a pathetic message, she’d laugh out loud and delete the message.

    Boink! Subject-Something’s Rising!

    “This is becoming harassment. I’m going to complain.”

    Reanne having fallen asleep in her car, wakes herself from the disturbing dream. Looking at her watch, she sighs with relief, realizing that it’s only 1201p.

    “Maybe I should go eat something”.

    She starts her car and gets ready to leave the park. Looking into the rearview mirror, she sees Alex sitting in his car reading a paper.

    “Funny that he’d come to the same park.”

    Deciding to turn her engine off, she opens the car door and walks around outside hoping that he’ll notice and wave or something. Peeking over the top of her sun glasses, Reanne looks to see if he’s looking.

    He’s not.

    In an effort to get his attention, she stretches her arms back pushing her breasts out and making a stretching noise.

    He looks in her direction, smiles and waves. He leans over and sarcastically shouts out his window,

    “Hey, can ya keep it down a little? I’m trying to read here,” smiling warmly.

    Reanne notices that his eyes linguered on her breasts a little longer, before taking her in from head to toe. She gives him a wry smile and asks what he’s reading.

    “Nothing much,” is his only reply as he puts his magazine down.

    Reanne walks over to his car, if for no other reason than to get a peek at his choice of reading material, but mostly to look into his dark lustful eyes.

    “So, no lunch plans today?” he asks.

    “I was going to lunch with Misty, but she had to cancel. What about you?”

    “Well, I was hoping to meet someone for lunch, but I was left hanging, so here I am”.

    Reanne’s heart skips a beat. Was HE the one that sent the email?

    “Shit!” she hears herself say.

    “What’s wrong?” he asks,

    “Oh, uh, I just looked at my watch. I’d love to stay, but I gotta get back,” she lies. “I’ll see you back at the office Alex,” she continues.

    Walking back to her car, she curses herself for thinking that the boss was sending the email.

    “What about that day dream I had a moment ago? Cuffs, blindfolds, leather straps?” Reanne says as she climbs into her car.

    Intrigued, Reanne cannot wait to get back to the office and send Alex her own sexy email. She can feel herself become moist at the thought. Racing back to the office in hopes of sending her email before he returns, she thinks of what to write. After a short pause, she decides on what it will be. Arriving back to her desk, she ignores the email that’s waiting for her and begins her own sexy email message.

    “Hmm, lets see,” she says, and then types away with a passion that she didn’t know existed.

    Finished and very satisfied, Reanne hits the send button. Excited, she can hardly wait for his return and reply. Again, her nipples become hard, but this time it’s not from the air conditioning, in fact the office seems rather hot. The heat emanating from her excitement keeps her warm and wet.

    The thought of using the restroom for some personal time goes through her head, but she decides to wait for his reply.

    Boink!

    “Ah, there it is,” she tells herself.

    Not thinking about that fact that he’s not returned from his lunch yet, she opens the message. It says,

    From-kinkyofficeguy.

    Subject-lunch…. The message says,

    “Blindfolds, cuffs, leather straps? My, my, you are a kinky girl. I know just the place. Meet me after work”.
    Continue reading  Post ID 619


  • My Wife Gets a Little Slutty

    My wife Helena was going to her company Christmas party which I unfortunately was not able to attend. I had to go to a friend’s to help him install his Christmas lights on his house so his old lady would stop bitching at him. I told my wife that I would pick her up at the party around two in the morning so she could have a safe ride home.

    An old friend of mine who worked for the same company as she did said he would stop and pick her up for me. I was surprised to see to see the expression on his face when he saw my wife come out in her short skirt and tight silk blouse. She put on weight in all the right places a few years ago after having our daughter so she looked wonderful with her thirty four c breasts and her nice round ass in that skirt. So I nervously joked with my buddy John that he better keep the men away for me which he promised to do.

    I left the house to help my other friend put his lights up and finished around ten o clock so I decided that if I run home grab a quick shower and change I could be with my wife around eleven. As I figured I got their around eleven and thought it would be a great surprise for her to have arrive a few hours early. I looked around the crowded bar and restaurant area to find my wife sitting at the bar with John doing shot for shot with him. She was definitely getting loaded as she does not drink heavy except for a couple nights a year.

    I was going to walk over to them when I saw John take his hand and slide it up her leg up to the hem of her short skirt. She did not remove his hand from her leg for alcohol makes her very hornier than hell. Something inside me wanted to stop this from continuing but I stood where they could not see me and continued to watch. She got off the bar stool and went to the bathroom which was at the end of a dark hallway. She entered the bathroom and when she came out John was waiting outside of it for her.
    Continue reading  Post ID 619


  • Office Anal For the Office Slut

    Being known as the office tease or slut doesn’t bother me, I enjoy sex a lot in all its forms so being known as promiscuous suits me fine as it means I get a lot of guaranteed action!

    There was an occasion I remember well during a meeting, round a table of 7 people, my colleague to the right of me began feeling my leg. Most girls might feel this as an intrusion of privacy, I don’t, I love being fondled in inappropriate situations! Don’t get me wrong if I know the guy to be a creep I’ll brush him off but in most cases I’m all for some sexual groping!

    My colleague, Scott, is a good looking, athletic guy. I knew he had a girlfriend but that was a minor detail and if he chose to feel me up and turn me on then that’s his prerogative! During the meeting his hand moved further up my stockinged thigh till it was at the top of my black stockings. During a part of the meeting where I was required to speak Scott un clasped my stocking and began to push it down my leg, knowing this would put me in an awkward situation at some point! I wasn’t annoyed, rather, very much turned on by this forwardly flirty behaviour!

    As Scott moved his hand further up my thigh I spread my legs as wide as I could, giving him room to stroke my moist pussy through my lace knickers. He expertly rubbed me softly, locating my clit which was swelling under his perfect strokes!
    Continue reading  Post ID 619


  • Breaking In The New Co Worker

    Over the five year period of working as a warehouse clerk at an office supply store, I have seen many employees come and go. Some would realize all of the work that is required of them and quit in a matter of weeks. But about six months ago, the store manager hired a new girl to be a cashier. She was an African-American girl whom I estimated to be 18.

    I was fortunate, one afternoon, to meet her in the employee’s lounge during our lunch break.

    Surprisingly, I made conversation with her and we got along great. She told me that her name was Tracy and she attended the high school that was right up the block from my apartment. We spoke throughout our entire break and, after a week, we began taking our lunch breaks at the same time. Tracy and I began having a close friendly relationship, despite our age difference of about 10 years.

    One evening, Tracy told me that she was going to have to quit the job because there was no means of transportation for her to get to work after school. She explained , “Think about it, Craig. I am using most of the money that I make here just catching the bus here everyday. That doesn’t make much sense.”

    “Well, I have an idea, Tracy. What if I just pick you up from school on my way to work and we can ride together?” She liked the idea and called me her savior for helping out. In time, Tracy was like a close friend to me. We spoke of everything. I would tell her of my women problems and she would tell me of her boy problems.

    One Wednesday afternoon, I was relaxed in front of my television and VCR. It was one of those lonely times when I would pop in a video of myself and an ex-girlfriend having sex. Gradually, my cock began rising to the occasion and, of course, I would put my hand to work on it. Listening to the heavy breathing and moaning had me totally aroused. But just when it felt as though I was going to explode, there was a knock at the door. Needless to say, my erect cock began going soft. I quickly adjusted myself, turn off the VCR, and yelled out, “Who is it?” To my surprise, it was Tracy. “But, I thought, ‘what in the hell is she doing here. She’s not due out of school for another 2 hours.” I opened the door for her and there stood a young lady whom I had never realized how attractive she was. Her hair was combed back and down to her shoulder. She wore just enough cosmetic to enhance her natural beauty. Tracy was wearing her school uniform of white blouse and brown skirt. Her blouse was unbuttoned at the top to reveal her beautiful black cleavage and her skirt was hemmed short enough to see that she had the most beautiful pair of tight black legs that I had ever seen. From the looks of her legs, I could tell that she, obviously, ran track at her school.
    Continue reading  Post ID 619


  • Boss Cock

    “I had lunch with your boss today,” my wife Karen just tossed that little statement over her shoulder as we were getting undressed for bed.

    It took a second for it to register with me. I stopped, with my shoe halfway off and looked over at her. “You did not.”

    She turned to face me. She looked damn good, standing there in just her bra and panties. “Well, lunch is probably not an accurate description. We got hot dogs off one of those carts in the plaza. We sat on a bench near the fountain.”

    She was serious. “Denny called and invited you to lunch?”

    “No, he was standing right by the main entrance when I came out for lunch. He was looking for me. He found me. We had lunch, of a sort.”

    I knew there was a lot more to the story. It looked like she was going to make me drag it out of her, one tidbit at a time. I went back to getting undressed. Karen and I both sleep in the nude. I pulled off my socks and turned around. She was standing there, wearing my favorite outfit, not a damn stitch. After fourteen years of marriage, she still gets my blood pumping. She keeps her blonde hair long, falling around her shoulders. At thirty-four, her B cup yabos are still firm and pointing straight ahead. And that cute little trimmed bush, so what if the carpet doesn’t match the drapes.

    There are times when she looks better. Like when she’s on her hands and knees. She has one guy’s hard cock in her mouth. Another guy is behind her, filling her hot pussy with his rod, about to pump a load of cream deep inside. Nothing I would rather do than watch her get in on with a couple of studs. And nothing she likes better than putting on a sex show, just for me.

    “You’re dying to hear the rest. I know you too well, Rick. Let’s get into bed and I’ll tell you everything.”
    Continue reading  Post ID 619


  • Eavesdropping on Eve

    I joined Waterman’s at the turn of the year craving managerial advancement, a pay hike – naturally – and fresh pussy. Having found myself going nowhere fast career-wise at Forster Clark, having dated just about every eligible girl in the office and in need of extra cash to fund an ever extravagant lifestyle, I felt it was time to move on.

    Well, two out of three wasn’t bad. The boss at Waterman’s was only too pleased to advance my career if I put in the hard work, he almost doubled my pay in one fell swoop but, with a team of just seventeen, most of whom were guys, something told me it was time to put career above sex life. First appearances can be so deceptive!

    I wasn’t reckoning on the one beacon of hope on the female front, in the shapely guise of Eve Palmer, fulfiling my fantasies. She was, after all, way out of my league, and then some. In her mid twenties, a few years my senior, a horny single single guy like yours truly couldn’t help but fancy her from the very start. A stunning curly-haired brunette with killer tits and arse and the most gorgeous pouty blowjob lips, Eve was the girl every other guy in the department wanted – but could never hope to get.

    I remember that first lunchtime in the bar with the guys well. Being the new guy, everyone, it seemed, wanted to be my friend. I was plied with drinks and bombarded with questions, mainly about what I thought of my sexy female co-worker. Come two o’clock, each and every fantasy of the half a dozen other guys I shared the department with had been imparted. We shared a common bond: we all wanted Eve.

    Sat opposite, Eve was given the task of teaching me the systems and working practices and generally taking in hand my initial training. There were, of course, other things I wished she’d take in hand and I soon found myself embroiled in the kinds of fantasy my fellow colleagues indulged in. As the first afternoon wore on, it became harder and harder to contain myself. I craved so much to touch her, I had to link my fingers tightly together on my lap. A dual purpose, they concealed a raging erection.

    As the days went by quickly like passing trains, things became ever harder. Seemingly a perfectionist, Eve had office chic down to an art form, each day finding new exotic outfits with which to tease the senses. Her breasts would strain against sheer pastel shirts, constricted and seemingly aching to break free whilst her nipples retained a permanent nub, owing to the air conditioning. As time went on and spring arrived, the shorter her skirts became, revealing soft, creamy thighs and the most angular legs outside the catwalk. Rarely was she without heels, always black, always high, always sexy as hell.

    To put it crudely, I wanted to lift Eve onto the desk, pull up that little skirt, and fuck her brains out. She was my permanent wank fantasy and I craved her like nothing else, coveting our times together and savouring every moment and joyous for a glimpse of out-of-bounds flesh. And it wasn’t just physical. Eve abounded with joie de vivre, was rarely down in the dumps and always able to see the positives even in the most negative situations. I’d never thought of any girl in those terms before, but Eve was wife material.
    Continue reading  Post ID 619