Every Day at Four: The Meeting by Kitten Cream (c)
May, 2001 (MF, Rom)
Don't read this adult if you are underage or
aren't allowed to wherever you live.
Feedback and suggestions are welcome! Email
nethangos@yahoo.com. If you'd like to post this
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credit where it is due by listing me as the author. It
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print this for your improved viewing pleasure.
*****
This can be read as a stand-along story,
although it is a continuation of "Every Day at Four:
Erotic Confessions" (MF, MMF, voy, mast, anal, bond).
In the preceding story, a high-level manager overhears
an unknown woman at work, whom he nicknames
Strawberry, confiding her sexual adventures to a
friend. He sets up a microphone and enjoys himself
while her erotic confessions. When he
discovers her identity, he has to decide what to do
about it.
*****
On Saturday, he dragged around the house, fixing the
leaky bathroom faucet and washing the car. He couldn't
get the thought of her out of his mind. Finally, he
slammed out of the house and took off in a small
squeal of tires, headed downtown. He walked aimlessly
through the streets, torturing himself with thoughts
of two faceless sitting in a spa, touching and
stroking *his* secretary, his Strawberry, to countless
orgasms. He grew disgusted at his own thoughts. He
didn't even know this woman, not really. So she looked
and acted like a sweet, demure woman. Obviously it was
all a facade.
He decided to eat at one of his favorite Indian
restaurants. He ordered chicken masala and relaxed
with a glass of wine, looking around at the other
patrons. Almost as though his mind had conjured her,
she walked in: his secretary, the woman whose erotic
confessions he'd been for over a week. Her
sweet face apparently belied a woman of lusty sexual
appetites.
She was supposed to be living out her ultimate fantasy
with Gerry and Mark, her lovers! Something must have
happened, the planned rendezvous must have fallen
through somehow.
Her eyes automatically scanned the seated diners. For
once, her hair was down around her shoulders, the rich
caramel color shining in the late afternoon light
slanting into the front window of the restaurant. He
couldn't restrain himself. He waved at her, catching
her eye and pointing to the empty chair at his small
table. He caught a brief look of surprise, followed by
an embarrassed little smile and slight flush. He stood
up as she nodded towards him and waved away the
seating attendant. She approached a little hesitantly,
her eyes flickering quickly around him as though to
assure herself he was alone and really meant to invite
her to sit.
He smiled reassuringly. As soon as she got close
enough, he called out to her.
"Hi, come and sit down. Are you meeting anyone else?"
He was proud that his voice sounded friendly,
cheerful, nothing else. His heart was pounding, palms
suddenly moist.
A quick shake of her head. As she sat down in the
chair he had pulled out for her, her pretty yellow and
black sundress, some kind of crinkly material, moved
and flowed around her curvy body. The bodice was low,
but not overly so, showing just a hint of cleavage.
"Thank you for inviting me to sit down," she said
politely. She picked up the menu and flipped open the
pages, eyes flickering back and forth between the menu
and him. She caught his quick glance at her
and hunched her shoulders slightly forward. He broke
the awkward silence that had descended.
"Do you come here often?"
"No, this is my first visit. I hear the masala is
excellent." He grinned in quick surprise at the
coincidence, then told her that's what he had ordered.
She giggled a little bit, dark eyes sparkling, and his
cock surged. *That* was the sexy giggle he'd heard
every afternoon over the microphone. It *was* her! His
secretary was the mystery woman he'd known only as
"Strawberry". He sat back, carefully concealing the
momentary swell of his erection behind the cloth
napkin, and casually asked, "Didn't you have plans for
this evening?"
She looked at him somewhat quizzically, but answered,
"Yes, but they fell through." That was all she said.
He was left with a million questions, none of which he
could ask. Finally he made a comment about how much he
liked Indian food, and they began a conversation about
their favorites restaurants and cuisines.
Their food arrived and they both dug in with more
relief than hunger. She was nervous, sitting across
from her boss, realizing not for the first time what
an attractive he was. It wasn't so much his looks,
which many would consider average. Medium height,
broad shoulders on an otherwise medium build, stubborn
jaw line, deep-set eyes, a slow smile that struggled
to reveal a dimple in his left cheek. No, taken
feature by feature he was no male model. But he exuded
an air of authority and confidence that attracted her.
It made him seem taller, broader, more solid than his
actual physical presence.
She'd heard at the office gossiping about why he
was still single - too picky, a workaholic, the
theories abounded. At least she could discount one
rumor! She hadn't missed his lingering glances over
her and legs. Feeling slightly adventurous,
she leaned back in her chair and crossed and recrossed
her legs, casually glancing his way. Yes, his eyes
tracked the movement of her legs. He looked up and
caught her watching his reaction.
A quick, charming smile flashed her way. "Sorry about
that, you have incredible legs and that dress looks
great on you. I hope you don't mind me saying that.
Don't worry, I don't intend to chase you around the
office every day just because I think you're
gorgeous."
Some crazy impulse made her say, "Oh, that's too bad!"
She clapped one hand over her wayward mouth. At the
sight of her appalled eyes blinking at him over her
hand, he laughed heartily.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what..." He interrupted her
embarrassed apology. "No, no, it was a great
comeback." He lightly ran one finger over the back of
her hand on the table. A shiver ran though her, and
goose bumps appeared on her bare arms.
They relaxed into flirtatious banter, each now aware
of the attraction between them. The candlelit table
enclosed them in a cozy, private oasis. They prolonged
the meal by ordering coffee and lingering until the
restaurant staff began cleaning up around them. He
walked her out to her car, standing close enough to
brush against her every other step.
She fumbled to find the car keys in her oversized
purse, nose wrinkling in concentration. She opened the
car door, tossed her purse into the car, and turned
around to say good-bye.
"Well, I've had a lot of fun tonight." The words were
a little awkward. Now that the evening was over, she
couldn't help wondering what Monday in the office
might be like.
"I had a great time, too." He studied her eyes for a
moment, his own thoughtful. "Listen, do you have plans
for tomorrow afternoon?"
Her eyes lit up. "No, I'm free after lunch."
He smiled, leaned down, and pressed a quick kiss
against her lips. "Then how about I pick you up at
two? Dress casually. We'll be getting dirty. And bring
a change of clothes."
She was curious, but he refused to provide more
details. She gave him directions to her place and then
climbed into her sporty green car. He stood watching
as she drove out of sight, then walked slowly to his
car. All in all, an extraordinary evening.
*****
Promptly at two the next afternoon, he knocked on the
door of her condo. The door opened quickly. His eyes
drifted down her body, then back up. She was dressed
in sneakers, jeans, and a tight white v-necked T-shirt
that outlined her pert and showed off slightly
puckered nipples. A fanny pack rode her hips, a
bulging backpack was slung over one shoulder.
"Well? Will I do?" she asked teasingly, returning the
survey. Sneakers, jeans and a black T-shirt that clung
to lightly muscled chest and biceps. Mmmm, nice.
He grinned back at her. "You'll do." His eyes settled
on her trim rear end as she turned and locked the
door. He had to resist a sudden urge to reach out and
squeeze one cute little cheek.
By the time she turned around, he was several steps
down the walkway.
"Hey, where's the fire?" she called out as she hurried
to catch up. He looked back over his shoulder and
smiled, but didn't comment. What could he have said?
"The fire's in my pants"? He opened the door of the
car and stood waiting for her to catch up.
"You ready to get dirty?" he asked teasingly.
"What did you have in mind?" she asked semi-
cautiously. After several hours distance from their
flirtatious dinner conversation, she had begun to
wonder if she was doing the right thing. Getting
involved with her boss was foolhardy, to say the
least. But now that he was here, the attraction had
flared up as hot as ever. She wanted to see where this
could take them.
"Oh, I thought you might like to help weed my garden."
She glanced at him to gauge his expression.
"That's not some new slang for something sexual! I
actually have a garden that is badly in need of care.
I've noticed the plants flourishing at your desk over
the last few months, and I heard you talking about
your garden to someone. I thought...But if you don't
like the idea...I mean, it's not very romantic now
that I think of it..." his voice trailed off. She
laughed and let him off the hook. She loved working
outdoors, and it sounded like fun.
The short drive to his house passed mostly in silence.
Her eyes widened as they turned into his neighborhood.
Stately, homes lined the drive, each house
sitting on at least two acres. He pulled into the
drive of a lovely hundred year white two-story
with forest-green shutters and trim.
"Oh, this is lovely!" she breathed.
"Thank you. I bought it about 3 years ago. It's taken
a lot of work to get to this stage; it was quite run-
down back then. The disadvantage of these houses -
something's always breaking so the job's never really
done. But it's more of a home than anyplace I've ever
lived."
As he spoke, the car pulled into the semi-detached
garage and the door swung closed behind them. He got
out of the car and came around to her side, opening
the door and stepping back. He enjoyed the way her
breasts shifted under the t-shirt as she wriggled out
of the low-slung car.
She knew he was watching, and consciously arched her
shoulders back to thrust her chest out slightly,
feeling her nipples harden and press against the
scratchy lace of her bra. The sudden erection of her
nipples created an itchy, tingly sensation that made
her want to rub her breasts.
He turned away to hide a sudden erection of his own.
This was turning out so much better than he could've
hoped. Sometime during dinner the night before, he'd
stopped referring to her as Strawberry. This woman was
a three-dimensional person, comprised of more than the
sum of her sexual tales. She had a quick wit and
friendly warmth, and evinced genuine interest in being
with him. A stray cynical thought warned that she
could be playing a part, but he firmly squashed the
thought.
He took her inside to drop off her things, and ended
up providing a guided tour through the ground floor.
Her wide-eyed appreciation made him feel ten feet
tall, especially when she complimented the light, airy
feeling throughout the bottom floor.
She turned out to be an experienced gardener. They
worked companionably side-by-side in the backyard for
over an hour, talking desultorily as the sun beat down
on them. Finally, he took a break to wipe his
forehead, leaving a streak of grime, and glanced over
at her squatting form. The sweat-wet, untidy bun on
top of her head listed slightly to the side. Escaped
strands of hair curled on the back of her neck. The t-
shirt clung damply to her, wetness splotches showing
at the small of her back and under each arm. She
looked over her shoulder, perhaps feeling his gaze,
and grinned at him. Her sun-flushed cheeks reddened
even more as he let his eyes slide deliberately down
to her buns, snugly encased in the dirty jeans.
"How 'bout I get something for us to drink?" he asked.
"That would be great! Ice water for me."
He brought their drinks outside, condensation already
building up on the outside of the glasses. He handed
her a glass and watched spellbound as she tipped her
head back, throat moving as she drank thirstily. His
mouth dried up and he gulped his own water, discretely
adjusting his crotch when she turned around to put the
glass down on the patio stones.
They returned to their tasks, but each could feel the
building tension. Finally, they were done in the
garden. They helped each other to stand, stiff after
kneeling so long, brushing off their jeans and looking
with satisfaction at the pile of weeds.
"Thanks so much for your help," he told her. "Maybe
this wasn't what you'd expect from a date, but...this
may sound strange, but this has been one of the most
enjoyable days I've ever spent with a woman."
She smiled at him, eyes sparkling in the late-
afternoon sunshine. "So, this was a date?" she teased
lightly.
"What? You didn't know? Let me prove it to you," he
teased back, grabbing her and pulling her tightly
against him. He lowered his head to nibble lightly at
her lips, watching as her eyelids closed and lashes
fanned out onto her cheekbones. His own eyes closed to
concentrate on feeling her moist, luscious lips, all
teasing quickly forgotten.
He took it slowly, just enjoying the feel of her mouth
and her lips. But finally, he eased into her mouth and
lightly touched her tongue with his. She made a small
noise in her throat at the first contact. He started
to draw back, thinking it might be a protest, but she
went on tiptoes to follow his mouth and he leaned in
again.
They kissed for several minutes. He finally drew back
to catch his breath. They stared intently into each
other's eyes, knowing that this was only the
beginning. Her eyes dropped at last to his lips, then
to his chest, where her hands had settled at some
point settled. She pulled away and cleared her throat.
"Wow."
"Wow is right." He paused a moment. "You want to go
inside and clean up?"
"That would be great. I'd better take my shoes off,
though, or I'll track all over the floors."
"Don't worry about it! That's why I have hardwood
floors, easier to clean. But take off your shoes if
you'd like, get comfortable. After helping me out, the
least I can do is cook you dinner."
She laughed, a bubbly sound, happy that the day wasn't
over. "You can cook?" she sounded only slightly
surprised.
"Nothing fancy, but I can handle steaks and salad. If
you'd like to take a shower, the downstairs bathroom
is fully equipped," he offered.
When she came out of the bathroom, hair damp and loose
around her fresh t-shirt, she found him barefoot in
the kitchen, dressed in faded green sweats and a t-
shirt, mixing the salad. She stood for a moment,
admiring a very nice, tight pair of buns showcased in
clinging sweat pants. She cleared her throat slightly.
"Already started, I see. What can I do to help?"
"Why don't you get the plates out?" he indicated the
cabinet with an inclination of his head. "The steaks
will be ready shortly." As if on cue, her stomach
rumbled loudly enough for him to hear. They both
chuckled.
An hour later, steaks and salad were only a fond
memory. They relaxed, replete, on the sofa in the
living room.
"Want to watch a little TV?" he asked lazily. "I'm too
full to do anything else right now."
"Mmmmm," she agreed.
They sat slumped companionably together on the couch,
his arm draped over her shoulders and her head resting
naturally on his chest while a sitcom flickered on the
screen. Neither paid much attention. Slowly, their
attention shifted from satisfied stomachs, to a
different appetite. His hand played with her hair,
gently rubbing the tender skin at the nape of her
neck. She shivered and rolled her head forward to
provide better access.
He was already half-hard from being this close to her,
smelling the sweet, shower-fresh scent of her body,
feeling her with its hard little nipple
nestling into his chest.
"Is this okay with you?" he asked her.
"Oh, yesss..." she sighed. "That feels so nice." He
began to lightly massage her neck with two fingers.
"I woke up with a kink in my neck this morning, just
keep doing that and I'll be your slave for life," she
moaned rapturously. He sat up and gently turned her
around, leaning her bonelessly forward against the arm
of the couch. He brushed her thick, curling hair over
her left shoulder and then began a serious massage. He
reveled in the tactile pleasure of touching her warm,
soft skin, feeling the soft, downy hairs at her nape
catch on his slightly rough fingertips. The sensuous
smell of woman drifted up to him. His pleasure was
amplified by her sighs and moans of appreciation as he
worked the sore muscles in her neck. Her head drooped
forward, cheek resting on the back of one fine-boned
hand, manicured nails flexing into the sofa cushion
like a kneading catpaw.
"You have the magic touch," she told him drowsily.
"Thank you," his voice was husky with arousal. His
mind, the body's most erogenous organ, was consumed
with images of exploring her shapely body. He was
struck by the similarities between their position now,
and the overheard of Gerry and Mark's sensual
massage the other night. Instead of repelling him, it
aroused him, because she obviously enjoyed his
attentions. "Would you like me to massage your back?"
"Oh...would you? I mean, only if you want to, of
course, but its been a long time since I had a good
massage, and you are really exceptionally good at
this." She sighed happily.
He wanted to ask her if Gerry and Mark's ministrations
qualified as a real massage, but of course he
couldn't, not without giving away his secret. Instead
he helped her get settled on the floor, pulling a
pillow down from the couch. He knelt over her,
studying the body spread before him. Her jeans-clad
ass curved sweetly, a nice handful. He closed his eyes
briefly to let the anticipation build, then settled
his hands between her shoulder blades and began gentle
circular motions.
She was uninhibited in her enjoyment. Moans and sighs
whispered between her lips, eyes closed in bliss. He
worked on her upper back for half an hour, lost in the
sensory pleasure of simple touch. Then he moved to her
lower back, and discovered one of her prime erogenous
zones. Her body jerked and her breathing shuddered as
his hand slid slowly the length of her spine towards
the low-slung waistband of her jeans.
"I'm...pretty sensitive there," she told him a little
self-consciously.
"Just enjoy it," he advised. "I am."
He rubbed and stroked for a few minutes, then told
her, "You don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable,
but this would feel even better on bare skin."
She hesitated, but she was clearly caught in the same
sensual web as he. She wriggled around to grab the
bottom of her and pulled it off over her head
while he looked discreetly away. Goose bumps
immediately raised all the small hairs on her arms and
nape. She felt...exposed, lying there partially nude
while he was fully dressed.
He had suspected that she was braless, now he had his
proof. Her mounded at the side of her torso
where it pressed into the floor. The flesh revealed
under her was pale. Freckles sprinkled lightly
on her back and shoulders matched the smattering
across her nose.
"You've got a beautiful body," he told her sincerely.
She mumbled embarrassed thanks into the pillow.
He began long strokes from the base of her spine up to
her shoulder blades, spreading his hands out to either
shoulder and kneading in small circles.
"Ooohh," she moaned, "you were right, it feels so much
better this way."
He didn't comment, concentrating instead on relaxing
her completely. It was a heady, sensual pleasure to
touch her bare skin. He could feel a damp spot forming
on the front of his sweats from the precum slicking
the tip of his cock. But he was content to slowly
build their arousal, to live in the moment and enjoy
the simple act of touch. Eventually, his hands slid
further out and began caressing her sides, lightly
touching the bulge of her breasts. She didn't protest,
rather she shivered and moaned encouragement.
He slid his hands onto her ass briefly, but kept
going, down the backs of her thighs and onto her
calves. She jerked slightly at his touch on her
bottom, but didn't protest. He decided to take matters
into his own hands, so to speak.
"If I do anything you don't want me to, all you have
to do is say 'stop', alright? Don't feel
uncomfortable, or worry about hurting my feelings.
This is for your pleasure."
He waited for her moan of agreement.
"On the other hand," he warned, smiling wickedly if
she had only seen it, "if you don't say 'stop' I'll
assume you like it, and I'll keep doing it." This
time, when he ran his hands over her ass, he paused
and let his palms completely cup her cheeks. He rubbed
his hands in slow circles, pressing down slightly to
push her pelvis into the floor. Then he ran his hands
down the inside of her thighs and around to the backs
of her knees. There he lingered. His fingertips
lightly tickled through the denim and her legs jerked.
She didn't say 'stop,' though. He knelt with his legs
on the outside of hers and pinned her down lightly,
continuing to rub the backs of her knees.
"Oh, please, I'm so ticklish there!" she gasped
finally.
"Are you asking me to stop?"
"Yes, yes, please stop! I can't handle it."
Grinning, he moved down towards her feet and spent a
few minutes firmly rubbing and kneading the bottoms of
her feet, rotating each foot gently while he massaged.
He again moved up her body, still straddling her, and
stopped at her lower back. His haunches came to rest
just below her ass. He applied slight pressure to let
her know she was pinned down, then began to lightly
brush his fingertips back and forth just above her
waistband. She cried out. The flesh under his fingers
rippled with exquisite torment. Her body bucked under
his, then subsided when she felt how truly pinned she
was. He continued with the caress, curious to see how
far he could take her.
"Oh, God, that feels so good it makes my stomach hurt.
Mmmm..." she moaned in a muffled voice into the
pillow.
"Should I stop?" he asked her teasingly.
"Don't you dare!" she said fiercely, while her flesh
continued to ripple under his fingertips.
He rotated his pelvis slightly, rubbing himself
against the backs of her legs. As he moved, her pelvis
was pressed further into the floor, creating a
delicious pressure.
He grabbed another pillow from the couch and used one
hand to lift her torso, sliding the pillow under her
pelvis. Then he resettled himself. Her pelvis pressed
into the pillow and her breath caught. She began
squirming her hips, uttering small whimpers of
delight.
"Yes, oh, that's...mmmm, that's good," as his hands
strayed onto her denim-covered cheeks again. He slid
further down her legs, moving so that one leg
separated hers. He ran his hands all over her behind,
pressing in small circles. The edge of one hand slid
down the seam of her jeans, pressing into the divide
separating her firm buttocks.
He slid that hand up and down a few times, then
slowly, firmly, eased it down, following the seam
between her thighs. Her thighs tried to jerk together
in automatic reaction, but he used his leg to hold
them open.
He felt wetness through the seam of her pants and
exulted in his ability to arouse her. She panted, she
moaned, but she didn't say 'stop.' He kept going. He
moved his other hand between her legs, pushing her
thighs further apart, and began massaging her groin in
much the same way he had her back - circling,
kneading, rubbing.
Her arms slid up either side of her head, fists
clenching in the pillow as she gave herself over to
his attention. Her eyes were tightly shut, the pillow
damp where she had bitten it. Her pelvis moved
independently of her will, pushing into his clever
caressing hands, trying to entice him to touch her
just so. She was so close, so clooose... She cried
out, body jerking as she suddenly orgasmed. He
continued to caress her gently until she relaxed.
Then he turned her over. Her arms remained at either
side of her head, arching her upward. The
pillow lifted her pelvis into the air as though in
offering.
"I'm so glad you enjoyed it," he told her with a
gentle smile. A flush mantled her cheekbones and
chest. Her nipples were still hard, partly from the
cooler air caressing her front side, partly from
arousal.
Pleasure-dazed eyes slowly focused on his. She blinked
lazily. "Hmmmm...feel so..." her voice trailed off.
His cock spurted more precum, widening the wet spot on
the front of his sweat pants. Her eyes drifted down
his torso. He saw the exact moment she realized an
erection tented the front of his pants.
Her eyes widened. "You...you're hard," she announced.
He smiled a little painfully. "Well, yeah, I am. It's
an incredible turn-on that you are so responsive to
every touch. We don't have to do anything about it if
you don't want to."
"Oh, no, my mama always taught me that one good turn
deserves another. Or in this case, one good *toss*,"
her nose wrinkled at him, eyes twinkling. She watched
with interest as his hard-on pulsed under his sweats.
"I may not last very long," he warned her. "I've been
half-hard all day."
"You have? I didn't know that. I thought you weren't
really interested, until you kissed me this
afternoon."
"Hah! Not interested? I've been dying to touch you all
day. That sweet little ass of yours has been calling
my name."
She changed places with him. He stripped off his t-
shirt and lay on his stomach at her direction,
pressing his erection firmly into the pillow. "Now, if
you want me to stop, just tell me..." she started to
repeat his reassuring words teasingly. He growled at
her over his shoulder and she subsided with a giggle.
Where to begin, she wondered greedily, staring at the
expanse of smooth, lightly tanned flesh. Muscles
rippled lightly under the surface as he stretched. She
ran her hands all over his back. He shuddered and
shivered responsively at her touch, penis leaking
precum continuously now.
This was all his fantasies come true. The woman of his
nightly wet dreams was really here, touching him,
delighting in his touch.
She straddled his body, settling just below his ass,
just as he had done with her. "Nice ass, boss," she
smirked slyly.
"Watch it, little girl," he growled playfully. "That's
sexual harassment."
"No," she giggled, "that's sexual 'his-ass-ment'," she
giggled some more.
They both got serious, though, when her hands slid
onto his hard cheeks and began to rub, stroke and
caress. His breathing kicked into high gear, and
almost without realizing it, his pelvis rocked between
the pillow and her hands. She decided to see if he'd
enjoy the same caress which had driven her wild, and
ran the edge of her hand down the crack between his
cheeks, sliding up and down then continuing downwards,
between his legs. His whole body tensed.
She raised up slightly and he shifted his thighs apart
without being asked. His every breath contained a
slight moan. Her own breathing quickened with
excitement. She'd never had a so completely under
her control before. It was...intoxicating.
His hands clenched at his side as she brushed against
his scrotum. His balls were drawn up tightly in the
sac. She tentatively handled his scrotum, rubbing her
finger in the area between the base of his penis and
the sac. He groaned out loud, "Jesus, honey, you're
killing me!"
"But you don't want me to stop." It was a statement,
not a question.
"Hell, no. Please don't."
Then her hand reached the base of his penis and
grasped it as much as she was able in this constricted
position.
He couldn't stand it any longer. "Hold on," he
carefully turned over, avoiding dumping her on the
floor in the process, and shimmied out of his pants
and briefs. Then he lay back, unselfconsciously nude.
The pillow tilted his pelvis forward, lifting his
eager cock upwards. The red, bulbous tip shone with
pearlescent moisture. She reached out a tentative
fingertip and rubbed lightly over the tip. His hips
jerked into the air at the stimulus to his over-
aroused flesh. She looked up at his face to see if
he'd liked that or not, but his eyes were closed,
mouth slightly parted, a slight flush on his cheeks.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked.
"Take me in your hands. Stroke me. Should take about
thirty seconds," he advised in short, choppy
sentences, concentrating on holding out for her long-
awaited touch.
"Show me." The stark command surprised him into
opening his eyes.
"What?" he asked incredulously.
"Show me. I want to see how you like being touched."
Despite the brave words, a fiery blush covered her
entire upper torso as she knelt, half-naked, nipples
taut on her pert breasts.
"Alright, honey, if that's how you want it," he told
her. In his many fantasies, he'd always been the one
in command, giving the orders, but he found this
hugely exciting. She watched avidly, breathlessly, as
one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, the
other wiping over the head to gather some lube. That
hand began to stroke slowly up and down the shaft,
gaining speed with each stroke. She reached out one
hand and wrapped it around his scrotum, brushing
against the hand gripping the base of his cock. "I've
got it," she whispered to him. "You can let go. I want
to do this for you."
His head fell back, both hands abruptly releasing
their hold on his cock. He'd never been harder in his
life. He concentrated on holding on for at least a few
strokes.
She wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, and
began to lightly stroke his shaft with the other one.
Then she rubbed over the tip, gathering the freely-
running precum. She grasped his shaft tightly and
stroked hard, up and down, sliding the pole through
her fist.
"Oooohh, Christ!" he shouted, and his back arched,
cock pulsing out his ejaculate in several strong
spurts. She slowed down the stroking, finally halting
with one hand back fondling his scrotum, the other
resting lightly on his cock.
"That," he told her tiredly, "was fabulous." He lay
there for a couple of minutes, feeling drained,
relaxed, at peace. He was aware that she continued to
study and touch his naked body, but she carefully
avoided touching the super-sensitive head of his cock.
The thought that she was so fascinated by his body
actually sent some blood pulsing into his cock, making
it jerk slightly. She caught her breath.
He grinned at her. "What can I say? You turn me on
something fierce."
She grinned back. Then she looked towards the clock on
top of the TV. "Goodness, it's still only 8 o'clock!"
she said in amazement.
"Yep. The night's still young. Lot's of time for us to
try a couple more fun things," he commented. "Unless
you've got to get home?"
"Oh, no, I don't have to leave just yet," she smiled
almost shyly.
"Great! I'll go get a washcloth and clean up. Why
don't you get comfy on the couch. Be right back." He
disappeared up the stairs.
She pulled her back on, a little chilled now
that the heat of passion had passed, and wandered
around the living room. His computer set-up caught her
eye. She walked over to take a closer look. It was
fitted with all the latest bells and whistles,
including a large flat screen. Curious to see the
purportedly amazing resolution on this screen, she
pressed a button to clear the screen saver and watched
the screen flicker into life. A software application
showed that a CD-ROM was inserted. Maybe he'd been
playing a game of some kind? She clicked on the start
button, and then froze as a familiar voice came
through the speakers.
"The bastards! Both of them know I hate being teased.
I mean, if you can have multiple orgasms, why deny
yourself? The next one's only a couple minutes away,
for Christ's sake. And here's me, not suspecting a
*thing*, moaning about how 'I've got to cum, please
let me cum'..."
As she stood paralyzed with horror, a masculine hand
came into her line of vision and clicked the mouse to
stop the playback.
She was unable to speak for a moment. He'd been
listening to their conversations! He must think she
was some kind of sexual deviant!
He erupted into speech. "I can explain! I'm sorry, I
didn't mean this to happen. At least, well, I mean of
course I wanted this to happen, but I didn't plan..."
he stopped talking when she turned blazing eyes on
him.
"Is this some kind of sick blackmail scheme?" she
demanded. "Are you going to fire me?"
"Absolutely not! No one would ever have known about
these CDs but me, if you hadn't...I mean, if we
hadn't...anyway, this was for my pleasure only. Maybe
it sounds sick, but it just really turned me on to
hear a woman describe how much she enjoys sex. I've
never done anything like this before. And I swear, I
didn't know it was you until Friday, when I saw you in
the break room."
"That's why you acted so strange?" she asked somewhat
dazedly. It was hard to take in, that her boss, so
distant and almost absent-minded, had been
their afternoon conversations. "You've been jacking
off listening to us?"
"Yes." He admitted it baldly.
"It was that hot for you?" he could see a hint of
feminine curiosity beginning to replace the defensive
anger, as she realized that he wasn't planning on any
type of disciplinary action in the workplace.
"Yes." Again a stark admission.
"How did you do it? We didn't know anyone was
listening."
He explained about the microphone. She
listened, fascinated. "Wow, you must have really been
turned on to go to all that trouble. What..." she
searched for a way to phrase the question, "what
did you like the most?" she asked diffidently.
"Definitely the fantasy of being tied up..." (he
carefully avoided using Gerry and Mark's names) "and
forced to experience endless orgasms."
"Oh, yes, I remember that one." She fell silent, brain
racing to come to terms with everything. Finally she
smiled at him.
"Well, as long as this was just for your pleasure, I
can't see any reason to get all mad about it. What's
done is done." Then, abruptly changing the tenor of
their conversation, she slid one hand up his chest and
pinched his left nipple unexpectedly. "So, listening
to two women talking about hot sex got your hard, did
it?"
His mouth fell open at her aggression. He snapped it
shut on a gasp and nodded when she pinched him again.
She wasn't mad! Not only was she *not* mad, it seemed
she might be excited at the thought that he had
listened to her private conversation.
"Let's see if *having* hot sex gets you harder than
listening to about it." She ran her other hand
down the front of the clean sweat pants he'd donned,
and cupped his penis through the thin cloth.
Immediately his cock inflated with blood, pulsing
semi-hard in her hand. She squeezed it several times,
timing it with pinches to his nipple, watching his
expression.
His cock hardened so fast he felt a little dizzy and
reached out to grasp her shoulders. She smiled at him
and squeezed hard. Her cunny spasmed when he groaned.
"Where's your bedroom?" she asked.
He cleared his throat. "Upstairs."
She released his cock and nipple. "Lead the way, lover
boy."
He led the way, glancing frequently over his shoulder
as though to reassure himself she was really there.
Jesus, that had been hot. If he hadn't just cum, he'd
have embarrassed himself when she started squeezing
and feeling him.
She looked curiously around his room, nodding with
approval at the heavy mahogany four-poster bed,
wardrobe and dresser. "Nice," she pronounced. Then she
sat on the bed, bouncing a couple of times to test the
firmness. He watched her from the doorway, arms
crossed over his chest.
"Well?" she asked expectantly. "Aren't you coming over
here?" He walked over to stand in front of her,
watching her but not saying anything. The bravado
which had sustained her through the sexual aggression
downstairs drained away in the face of his silence.
"Are you upset that I did...that? Downstairs?" she
asked a little tentatively.
"Upset?" he tilted his head to one side, as though
considering the question. "No, I'm not upset. Hard as
a rock, horny, ready to jump your bones, yes, but not
upset." She smiled brilliantly at him, then patted the
bed next to her.
Instead, he scooped her up off the bed, swept the
covers back, and deposited her with a little bounce
and a squeal of surprise on top of the mattress. He
joined her quickly, pulling his off as he
climbed onto the bed. She lay on her side, head
propped up on one hand, large eyes watching his every
move. The cute little nose which had a tendency to
wriggle when she concentrated was wriggling now.
"I just want to let you know, I don't make a habit of
this..." she swept her hand in an arc to indicate the
bed, him, herself, the situation in general.
He smiled at her. "Me either. In fact, it's been a
while since my last relationship."
"Have you got any condoms? I'm not on the pill." He
grinned at how practical she tried to sound while a
blush swept over her face.
"Yes, I do. Ribbed ones." It took a moment, than she
made the connection to an erotic in the
break room. They both laughed out loud. "Oh, goody, my
favorites," she cooed.
He pulled a small foil packet out of the bedside
drawer and set it on top of the stand. Then he held
out one arm towards her. She scooted closer and he
hugged her tight. His other arm swept underneath the
pillow supporting her head and he leaned towards her,
guiding her into a passionate, panting kiss. Her
pebble-hard nipples poked into his chest. He moved to
ease his erection deeper into the ee of her thighs.
Her legs parted accommodatingly and she moaned
encouragement, while her tongue dueled with his.
He fumbled for the bottom of her t-shirt, pulling it
over her head and then bending down to suck her
nipples strongly into his mouth. She cried out at the
suction, legs moving restlessly, cunny dripping with
juices.
He moved her onto her back, rising up on his side over
her to study her breasts, one nipple wet from his
suckling. It puckered tightly as the cool air dried
his saliva. He slid one hand into her delta, rubbing
fast and hard along the seam of her pants. She cried
out again and again, low throaty cries.
"Why don't we go ahead and take these off?" he asked
her almost lazily. He unbuttoned, unzipped, and slid
the pants off while she tried to relax. Despite the
intimacy between them, to be naked was to be
completely vulnerable. He left her white cotton
underwear on for the moment, as though he understood
how she felt. His hard, warm palm settled immediately
over her mound and began rubbing in slow, erotic
circles. She blushed when she realized how wet the
crotch of her had become.
"Wet, aren't you honey?" he asked. "I like that a lot.
I love how responsive you are. Someday I'm going to
spend at least an hour licking and this sweet
little pussy." Her stomach clenched, both at the words
and at his mention of "someday". That meant this
wouldn't be their only date. She'd never had a one-
night-stand in her life, and didn't want to start now.
He eased his hand beneath the waistband of her
while she was dealing with the implications of
"someday." His fingers combed through the damp hair
lightly covering her mound. She felt a trickle of
wetness drip out of her cunny, just as his finger slid
inside her. They both groaned.
A thought niggled at the back of his mind. Something
wasn't right...He ignored it in favor of caressing her
hot pussy.
He slid his index finger as deeply into her as
he could, feeling the tiny muscles in her sheath
clenching him tightly. His cock ached as he flashed on
how incredible her tight, wet sheath was going to feel
pulsing around his shaft.
She twisted slightly beneath him, panting as his
finger slid in an out. He added his middle finger to
the fray, spearing them deeply into her channel. When
they were inserted as deeply as possible, he separated
them to her for his entry. She was so tight!
Odd, he hadn't expected it given his knowledge of her
sexual activity, but he was glad all the same.
He used his other hand to gently tug her underwear
down her legs, keeping the two fingers inside her all
the while. Her eyes were closed, long lashes casting
shadows on her cheeks in the dim light from the
bedside lamp. He rose up over her, straddling her
torso and reaching for the condom. Her eyes snapped
open when she felt his weight shifting.
She licked her lips, watching while he slowly rolled
the ribbed condom down his hard cock. He reached down
and dipped two fingers into her flowing wetness, then
rubbed his fingers over the head of his cock. She
watched his every move.
"Guide me into you, honey," he urged her.
"Wha- what?" she stammered.
"Guide me into your pussy. Take hold of my cock, and
pull me into you." She hesitantly reached down,
earning an encouraging smile for her bravery, and
grasped his sheathed flesh. She gently moved his cock
into position, rubbing the head along her dripping
slit for a blissful moment before centering the
bulbous head at the entrance to her cunny. She pulled
forward slightly, and he took over from there. He slid
all the way home in one long, slow stroke, the path
slick from her cream, then held himself deeply
embedded for a moment.
She cried out, her flesh struggling to accommodate to
his bulk inside her. The pleasure quickly outweighed
the discomfort and after a few seconds her tightly
grasping muscles relaxed. He pulled back slightly,
thrusting back in at her protesting cry.
"This is so incredible, honey. *You* are incredible.
Your little is gripping me so tight. How are you
doin'? Tell me what you like, I want this to be good
for you." Already her passage had eased so that he
slid in and out easily, flowingly.
"Oh, Lord, you feel...so big inside me," she moaned.
"And hot, and hard. Faster, please, go faster," she
urged. He sped up, reaching down at the same time to
rub her clitoris. The hairs around her slit glistened
wetly and clung to his fingers. He tugged gently at
them to increase her stimulation, then slid his thumb
over her clit and rubbed it while sliding in and out.
She quickly built to a climax. Her cries grew louder
and louder, until with a small feminine scream she
came wetly, her sheath rippling and clenching around
his cock. Her release threw him over the edge. He
froze motionless on top of her, pumping his into
the condom.
He collapsed next to her on the bed, carefully
avoiding crushing her with his weight. He just wanted
to hug her and hold her close until they both fell
asleep, but something, some discordant detail, niggled
away in his mind. He kissed her forehead as she lay
curled into a semi-daze in his arms, nuzzling the hair
at her temple. Something to do with hair...
"Good God!" he jarred her into complete wakefulness
when he sat straight up in the bed.
"What? What is it?" she asked in alarm. He looked
really strange.
"You've got pubic hair!" he said almost accusingly.
"Yes, yes I do. What of it?" she asked. Did he have
something against pubic hair?
"But in the break room the other day, I distinctly
heard you say that your was shaved!" he
exclaimed.
"What!" It was her turn to sit straight up in the bed.
"When did I say that?" Her brain worked furiously,
correlating several comments from earlier... "Wait a
minute! You thought that *I* was the one having all
those sexual adventures?" He nodded silently. "No way!
That wasn't me, that was my friend Daisy! I can't
believe you thought that was me!"
"Well, when we were talking downstairs, I thought you
said..." he stopped. She was shaking her head.
"You never said that you thought *I* was the one
having all those adventures. It didn't occur to me
that you thought...My God, no wonder you were so
surprised to see me on Saturday night," she remembered
his seemingly offhand comment asking if she had other
plans. "You thought I was supposed to be having hot
and kinky sex with Gerry and Mark that night!"
He gave a somewhat shamefaced grin. "But I'm glad it
wasn't you," he told her. "It was a little
intimidating, fantasizing about having sex with
someone who's seen it all, done it all, and told
someone about it."
Her shock was melting away, to be replaced by relief.
It had occurred to her just how lucky she was. She
listened to Daisy's outrageous adventures every day
because they turned her on so much. She liked to hear
her stories, to fantasize how it would feel to fuck
like a minx with any who caught her eye. She could
never do those things herself, though.
He was thinking something similar. How in the world
had he been lucky enough to find such a wonderful
woman, who not only didn't mind, but seemed excited by
his sexual turn-ons? She obviously had an open mind.
He thanked whatever cosmic fate had introduced them to
one another.
He hugged her and kissed the tip of her cute nose,
snuggling into the bed. A great wave of tiredness
swept him as he pulled the covers over them. "Will you
stay here for the night?" he asked as an afterthought.
The last thing he remembered was feeling her head move
against his should as she nodded.
She was sliding into sleep when a thought occurred to
her. She slanted her eyes up at him. He was already
dead to the world "Well, Mr. Voyeur," she thought to
herself, "just wait until Monday afternoon at four.
Daisy's going to be really surprised to hear about her
friend's really hot weekend adventure. And you'll be
recording the whole thing!" She giggled silently and
cuddled closer, smiling as she, too, drifted into
sleep.
*****
Hope you enjoyed this story. If you'd like to read
more about the boss and his secretary, let me know!
And you can find all my at:
http://www.asstr.org/~Kitten_Cream/
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