Written by Slipperysam
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27 minute read
In his mind, the banana yellow dress was peeling away from the curves of her hips as he slowly eased the zipper down to her back to her arse, revealing the line of her panties. The thought stirred his cock as he stared at her over the rim of his glass.
She was neither the youngest, nor strictly the prettiest girl in the office, at least in the classic sense, but to him she was by far the sexiest. He had a ‘thing’ for women like her, petite, small breasted, long haired brunette, slightly older than himself, complete with the mature curves and that soft, small layer of body fat that women her age often openly detested and bemoaned. To him they were softer, more comfortable and altogether superior to the hard young flesh of their junior counterparts. Not only was the softer sensation of that slightly aged flesh able to turn him on so quickly, but an experienced, mature, sexually open mind that often came with such a body was a prize to covet, easily overcoming the inexperience of a younger peer.
He allowed his eyes to rove her form once more, as he had done, secretly and from afar a hundred times over the last two years, his mind imagining his hands finding her body. He considered his fingers slowly removing her dress, running over her hips and breasts, her soft skin and how it would feel under the roaming expanse of his palms. He thought of standing naked behind her as his hands followed her body, cupping her slightly drooping breasts, his hands over her chest as they found their way down the slight round of her belly and onto the swell of her hips, his fingers over the very beginning of her legs as they came around her front toward the mound at the top of her quim, pulling her back gently against him at the hip, his swollen prick pressing against her soft round backside as she melted against him.
While he sat at the office Christmas party, a wallflower chameleonic in the background while his thirty or so colleagues and their partners supped at their wine and conversed in ever rowdier rhetoric, he thought of when he first met her. She introduced herself to him quietly, alone in the lunchroom on her first day as she ground her way through the company policy manual.
He had offered his sympathies in regard to her task. She expressed her thanks in his empathy and told him she was recently divorced, finding her way back into the working world after raising three sons on her own. She had since become the star of his nightly masturbations on many occasions, and moments like tonight, in her tight yellow cocktail dress, fuelled his memory, small snippets captured so they could be recalled later to tease his mind as his hand slid up and down hard cock in his lonely bed.
She sat side on to him across the room. He was eyeing the top of her leg where her short dress had ridden up deliciously high when she caught him staring. He quickly looked away, embarrassed at himself for getting caught and noticed from the corner of his eye as he half looked back, that she was now pulling her dress back down her leg.
‘Dam it!’ he thought to himself. He did not want the attention, indeed tension that might come as a result of her catching him perving at her so. Less so, but still important, he wanted to see as much of her leg as he could. He quickly stood and, avoiding any further eye contact with her, made his way to the drinks table to pour himself another bourbon, acutely aware of the semi hard-on the sight of her revealed leg had brought on. Willing it away, he poured his drink. He twisted the top back on the bottle and as he placed it back in the rank and file of its counterparts, felt the warmth and presence of someone beside him, close.
It was her! So evidently in his personal space he could almost touch her arm with his. He could smell the wine mixed with perfume carried with her breath as she spoke.
“Looks like it will be just me here tomorrow. Everyone else is abandoning ship for the last day for the year. I have to stay to man the phone.”
She emptied the last of the wine from the bottle into her glass, dropped it into an empty box beside the table and opened its replacement.
“I’ll be here too. I have a presentation early in the New Year and I don’t want my mind to be full of it during the holiday.”
She topped up her glass before placing the new bottle back on the table.
“Looks like just you and me then.” A tiny smile upturned her lips.
She turned toward her back to the table, leant her round bum against it and lifted the glass to her mouth to taste her wine.
“I hope we can behave ourselves since there won’t be any Boss to keep us out of mischief.”
She looked him directly in the eye as she took another sip of wine, her shiny brown eyes reflecting the room at him as he stood struck like a rabbit in headlights. His cock again stirred as he thought of the wild possibilities. His mind reeled, overcome by her casual words, her too long stare, how close she was standing to him. He felt his face beginning to flush.
She leaned in toward him. Dangerously close, he could see her breasts revealing themselves in the cleft of the square opening in the top of her dress, her arm just within reach of the hair of his.
‘Don’t look down! Don’t look at them!’ he told himself.
“Maybe we could watch a Christmas movie on the big screen in the boardroom” Her eyes did not leave his. His dick throbbed with his heartbeat and he felt his eyes widen.
“Yeah maybe…” was all he could muster.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then” she straightened up and walked back to re-join the conversation she had left earlier. He watched the cheeks of her cute round bottom, lifted pertly by her heels, sway and pump as she strode away.
‘Holy shit!’ he thought to himself. ‘She is soo FUCKING sexy.’ He wondered if she meant anything more by those words as he watched her glide off. He put down his drink and slunk away home where he furiously wanked himself, indulging himself in the thought of having her to himself, calling her name out to the darkness as he came.
The next morning was full of thoughts of her. Did she really mean anything more? Had she just had too much to drink? Was he reading too much in to what she had said?
“Mischief… watch a movie… just you and me.”
He hurried to work and arrived early, the lack of traffic early in the morning on Christmas Eve expediting his journey. The office was empty. He wandered along the quiet hallways passing the dormant, empty rooms of his colleagues. He stopped at her room and peered inside.
Amongst the usual paraphernalia of the typical office desk were three framed photographs. One was her children arranged in a triangle of heads, each sporting a forced smile for the studio portrait. The second was her with her dog and the third was her in her bathing suit standing next to a five foot marlin hung from a boat club scale. Some trophy, but he was ignorant to it. The woman, dwarfed by the monstrous fish, was the real trophy.
He sat down on her chair and took her in at eye level. He leaned in to study her further. The yellow bikini did nothing to hide her. Her sun-glassed smiling face beamed out, framed by sunstruck auburned hair, tanned and fresh, straight white teeth flashing within her smile. Her bronzed shoulders were held aloft in pride, in turn lifting her breasts, her large nipples vaguely visible through the cotton, as were the dark halos surrounding them. Her cute middle aged tummy drooped so slightly forming lines between it and her hips as they swept away from her middle, overcast with the thin yellow bands of her bikini bottom, they rounded gloriously out then in again toward her knees, shapely calves followed, leading down to her bare feet planted flatly on flip flops, guarding them against the heat of the concrete ground below her.
She appeared magnificent. How was she single, divorced? She must have left him – for who could pass over such an exotic form? He felt his erection coming again as he contemplated her figure, imagined her in a bond film rising up from the surf on a deserted beach, himself cast of course as 007, about to ravage her indecently as the surf lapped about them.
He glanced at his watch. It was still early. She would not arrive for at least 45 minutes. He took two tissues from the box on her desk. ‘This could be messy’ he thought, if the rapidity and fullness of the swelling in his trousers was anything to go by. After a short hesitation of contemplation he dispensed another five into his hand. Should he take the photograph to the bathroom with him? Probably – it would make things so much better, as long as he was careful not to get anything on it. He leaned forward, lifted it from the desk and swivelled in the chair to see her standing in her doorway watching him.
Heat smeared across his face, a sharp contrast to the ice that shot down his back. No words came to him as he stared wide eyed at her. His mouth opened and closed like a fish landed on a pier, framed photograph in one hand, seven bunched tissues in the other, a rude, obvious, rigid tent pole formed in his skin tight trousers between his legs.
“This looks dodgy” she grinned at him. “Five tissues and a picture of me in a bikini.” She knew very well what he was thinking of doing. Arms folded, shoulder against the door frame, she let her hips swing back and forth in his direction, the pendulous motion causing her breasts to rise and fall beneath her blouse in concert. Her eyes darted across him, obviously delighting in the scene before her.
He suddenly realised there was no easy way of explaining his way out of this. Despite that thought, his head began to shake back and forth, already attempting a denial of the obvious truth. His mind spun as it grasped for an excuse but failed miserably.
She pushed herself from the doorway with her shoulder and swanked deliberately across the room to him, shoulders swinging and hips rising seductively in turn as she placed each foot in front of the other. She reached down, took the photo from his hand and as she leaned down to place it back on her desk, whispered into his ear. “Isn’t that a beauty? I caught it a year and a half ago.” She lingered before moving even closer to his ear “It’s also the last time I was fucked. I’d love to add another photo to that collection…”
Still stunned, wide eyed, he turned his head to face hers, as she hovered only inches in front of him. She cocked her head slightly, stared into his eyes. “What do you… think about that?”
His stare dropped from her eyes to her lips, bright with this mornings lipstick, they shone their promises back at him. The lips moved, bright reflections running their length as she spoke.
“Go ahead, kiss me. I want you to”
As if through a dream, her words floated down to him. The only things that existed in that moment was her, her lips, her heat, her perfume, her request…
Before he had even thought about it he closed in upon her with his mouth and connected with hers. A rushed flood of warmth swept through him. The moment brought his arms around her as she collapsed lightly into his lap. In the haze he found her waist and shoulder, and as his senses returned her tongue was invading him, strongly stroking his with ecstatic lust. His erection pressed firmly against her thigh. She was so slight and his stiff so powerful that he felt he could lift her with it. Soon his hand found the small round of her breast and the heady bundle of swollen erected tissue at its edge. He brushed it slowly and gently with his thumb as her head slowly bobbed and pushed in time with her tongues advances. His other hand found the exposed skin beneath her pencil skirt and he began to caress and knead at her thigh, the thumb of this hand circled further and further up her leg in time with her gentle hums and mmms.
“Hmmm’ she murmured, closing and removing her mouth from his. “I’ve been waiting two years for you to do this with me. I hope you are worth the wait, but by the feel of what you have for me down there…” she nodded down toward her legs “…I think you were.”
She leaned in to kiss him once more, this time more urgently, her action pushing her breast hard against his chest, her wiggling bottom pressurising his ever hardening rod.
Abruptly she stood, took his hand and urged him onto his feet. Heart pounding, her hand firmly clasping his own, he allowed himself to be led back through the corridors to the large empty space of the boardroom. Without even turning to look at him she pulled out the chair at the end of the exuberant oak table.
He obliged, sinking himself into its plump executive comfort. The moment he sat down the air trilled with the sound of an incoming telephone call.
“Wait here” she demanded, and briskly strode off down the hall, heels clicking quickly against the floor tiles. He heard the phone stop ringing, her voice, staccato like in answer to the callers questions, carrying from far away in the building. Her voice became louder and she soon appeared back in the room with him sporting a Bluetooth headpiece along with a long plastic ruler and an indelible marker.
“Shipping is four days but with Christmas it may be the New Year before it reaches you”
He was still sitting in the chair with his hands curled over the end of the chrome and vinyl armrests.
“Alright 4000 now and 2000 in January. We can do that Mr Barker. May I have your address please”
She placed the ruler on the desk in front of him, then bent down and neatly wrote the address on his hand.
‘How amusing’ he thought to himself
“Four thousand and eighty five dollars plus taxes”
She straightened again to standing, lifted her skirts, and rubbed her pantied crotch lightly over his hand where she had written the address.
‘Holy fuck!’ his next thought almost came out of his mouth.
She rocked her pelvis back and forth, brushing the back of his hand gently with her pussy as she continued her conversation.
“Just a purchase order number to the email address you used before will be fine, Mr Barker…. Yes I’ll try to get it organised today….. Thank you for your business…. And merry Christmas to you too”
She reached up and touched the earpiece, terminating the call, then lifted herself back away from his hand.
He eyed her from beneath half closed eyes, the tepee in his trousers bobbing slightly.
“Ohh you are going to be such fun…” she laughed. “You liked me in that bikini, didn’t you?”
“Ah fuck yes” he answered.
Her eyebrows furrowed. She picked up the ruler.
“Hold out your hand”
“YOUR hand – hold it out in front of you”
She held her own out toward him, palm upward.
He stared at hers, then slowly did the same with his.
“First, you will not swear at me. Do you understand?”
She kept his gaze fixed with hers as she brought the ruler down across his hand. The sting resounded across the soft meat of his palm and momentarily dissipated.
“Second, today you will refer to me as Mistress. Do you understand?”
He nodded again as the ruler came down again.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Yes Mistress” he answered.
“Good” she answered. “Good boy. Now, I’m going to ask you again and I want a proper response. One fit for a … lady. Put your hand out on the table for me”
He placed his right hand, palm up, on the shining timber.
“You liked me in that bikini didn’t you?”
She continued to eyeball him.
“Did you get that from looking at me?” She gently tapped his hard willy with the end of the ruler.
“Yes Mistress”. She poked at him with it a couple of times before pushing hard against the underside of it, bending the ruler sharply.
“Would you like me to show you some more of me now?”
He swallowed, pinned by his dick against the ruler.
She released him from the end of the ruler and strode over to the cupboard at the end of the room, from which she produced a roll of packing tape.
“Tape your hand to the table for me. Fingers pointing … up” She placed the roll on the table in front of him, turned away and fetched the keyboard and mouse from the centre of the table. Picking them up, she moved to the back of the room behind him, out of his sight.
Still slightly amused, he ran four lengths of the tape across his wrist, breaking each strand with his teeth. When he was done, he looked up to see the projector and screen coming to life on the wall at the end of the table, and the words ‘Christmas porn’ being typed into the search engine.
“Christmas movies” she purred as she added the first ten of them to a playlist. The loading icon appeared briefly, then, accompanied with cheesy music, a naked slender blond in a Santa hat filled the screen, and her gaping vagina with her fingers.
His mistress appeared in front of him again and smoothed down the edges of the tape, making sure his hand was secure. She then sat on the table next to him, swung one leg in a slow arc over his hand, giving him an eyeful of her still pantied pussy, before squarely landing her wet box directly over it and, with her legs hung, bent at her knees, she placed her hands beside herself on the table and lightly bounced up and down with her hands on it.
“Do you want to see me again, in that bikini?” she asked him as she slowly rose and fell on him.
He felt the wetness of her pervading the knickers.
“Yes Mistress” he breathed, ignorant of the blonde on the wall in the background.
She raised her feet to the table and, after bending her knees and lifting her skirt to again reveal her quim to him, she stood upright upon it. As the music from the clip echoed from the walls of the room, she danced seductively along the length of the table above him, drawing her feet together before stepping her legs apart again, turning one way then the other while running her hands up and down her body. At the far end of the table she turned and continuing her dance back toward him. Halfway back she stopped, continued swaying, lifted her skirts again toward him and drew a finger up and down the crease in the front of her panties. He watched, his mouth open. Still clutching her mound through her pants, she advanced again down the table toward him, stopping above him just shy of the end. Straight legged she bent down in front of him and after pausing to make sure he got a good eyeful of her dangling breasts, scooped up the ruler from the table and struck her pussy with it. Her mouth opened into an O as it struck her. Without pause, she lifted it and struck herself again and again in time with the music. From below he could hear the soft thwack it made as each strike contacted her ever wettening panties. His cock was beginning to ache, and he moved his other hand to his crotch to sooth it.
“ahh ahh” she waved the ruler tip at him. “No touchy, just watch me”
He moved his free hand back to the arm of the chair and she continued her faux torture of herself.
‘I’m going to have a thousand wanks over this for years to come!’ he thought as he stared longingly at her above him.
She continued to smack the ruler down upon her pussy as she danced and gyrated over him. Each time the ruler struck her she let out a small cry, rolled her hips around in a circle then struck it again. His cock became harder and harder and he was finding it extremely difficult not to touch it. His free hand twitched and gripped at the arm of his chair.
Eventually she stopped, placed the ruler down on the table next to him and lowered her soaking wet pussy over his upright palm. He felt her juice seeping through the fabric as she ground herself down against him.
“Fuck me with your fingers. Push my pants up into me”
He desperately tried to force to fabric up inside her as she wriggled and squirmed. Each time he felt like he was working his finger into her crack she moved, the restraint over his hand frustrating him physically as well as mentally.
“Fuck me, your fingers” she puffed at him. Fuck me… come on … ah”
She worked her pussy in a circle on him as he tried to keep up with his finger. He wanted to do as she asked but was finding it impossible. She on the other hand was becoming increasingly turned on. She had unbuttoned her blouse and had her hand under her lacy brassier where she twisted and squeezed her nipple. Her other hand was behind her flat on the table, holding her steady as she squatted over his hand. The sight of her breast almost free had caught his attention and he stopped the maddening efforts to get his finger inside her. He didn’t notice she had re-armed herself with the ruler until it was coming down on his arm.
Thwack! The sensation from it was almost imperceptible but the realisation that he had stopped doing as she asked shocked his fingers back to life, and he once again started to catch the wandering pussy with his middle finger.
“I didn’t … say … stop!” her breath was coming in hard pants, her eyes flashing larger and smaller. She stopped gyrating and began to rub herself back and forth over him and lifted her bra up over her tit. She had her long brown nipple bent hard back and upward against her breast, firmly trapped between her finger and thumb as she rode him, pelvis now rocking back and forth at a furious rate. He opened his mouth as he stared up at her, and tried to push his fingers up into her slit as firmly as he could.
Without warning she suddenly stood up. He could see the sheen of her wetness had made its way down both thighs to her knees. As she caught her breath she rid herself of her clothes, finally stepping out of her soaked knickers, and stood atop the table before him. He was in awe of her body, her small boobs lifting and falling with her breath, their nipples pointing stiffly out horizontally and slightly out to the side, her small round tummy ending as it curved in toward her pubes, her lubed pussy lips appearing just below her hairline as she stood with her legs slightly apart.
“I don’t know about you, but this is fucking fantastic!” She turned to look at the giant boardroom screen as she spoke. It now showed a thinly bearded 20 something Santa screwing a girl in an elf hat on a table in his Santa’s workshop.
“Fucking great!” she whispered again as she turned to look down on him again. He wriggled uncomfortably in his chair, the sight of her above him panting, wet and shining was driving him over the edge.
“Get your cock out for me” she jutted her jaw out toward him as she said it. Her right hand, finding her pussy momentarily, wriggled up and down over herself a number of times before she stepped off the table onto a chair, then the floor.
“Fucking great!” she said for the third time. She went off behind him again and by the time she had returned he had managed to get his hard penis out of his pants with his free hand. His trousers lay splayed at the waist, flies, belt and button opened, and his cock lay against his belly wriggling occasionally with his pulse.
She came around to stand in front of him, then with her back to him, leant forward to his trapped hand and took the first finger of it into her mouth. As she leant forward her ass and pussy bared itself to his face, gaping open he could see her moisture escaping her.
“Lick me” she said, the words distorted as they came out of her mouth around his finger.
He did not hesitate. He closed his eyes, leant forward and pressed his nose against her anus as his tongue strained forward to engage her. He lapped at her like a hungry man, like a man who had not screwed for years.
He pressed his jaw forward so his tongue could accommodate as much of her as possible and with long, passionate, repetitive slaps he drew and lashed his tongue from her front, down along the length of her and over her perineum finishing just short of her ass. At the end of each stroke he moistened his tongue again as quickly as he could before reaching it out to her clit once more. After a time his jaw began to ache. He could feel the underneath of his tongue straining and tearing to reach out over her as much as he could. His nose was full of her scent, as his mouth was full of her taste, but he could not satiate himself of her. Her cum dripped from his mouth and chin as he lapped her length over and over. He had forgotten about his hard manhood and was only able to think of tasting all of her pussy, as much as he could get his tongue on for each stroke. He was rewarded with the moans coming from her, beginning slowly they increased in pitch and depth as he rounded the finish mark each time.
“OH Fuck! This is AMAZING!” she drawled
He continued his travail, pleased at his rewards, her praise and her moans egging him on.
Oh Fuck Fuck! Don’t stop! This is so fucking GOOD” each time he heard her acknowledgement of him he tried to open his mouth further, push his jaw along a little more, stretch his tongue another millimetre.
Her ass slowly began to tilt with his licks, her pelvis rocking back to let him get a little further along her. More and more she rocked with him until she was tilting herself to her limit.
“Aaah Fuck. Ahh Shiit!” she wailed at him.
Just as he was beginning to think he could no longer keep up his pattern, she abruptly changed her mind.
“Get your fingers inside me”
“Yes Mistress” his voice caught the strain in his throat.
He took his head away and immediately replaced his mouth with his hand. He could feel the cool air on his cheeks, his mouth and down his neck where she had leaked her nectar onto him as his head withdrew. He soon had three of his fingers easily inside her. The heat from within her was higher than he had imagined. She felt like an oven in there. His fingers slipped in easily and in short time he was buried to his knuckles as he felt around further up inside her.
He glanced up as he leant back, his fingers having found a pattern of movement deep within her that elicited more and more growling moans, occasionally peppered with short high pitched sounds when she drew a sharper breath. Her face was now flat against the table and far from his taped hand. Her cheek held in place between the lacquer of the table and her perspiration while the rest of her body swung back and forth in time with her pelvis, still rocking up and down as before. One of her hands was now at her pussy, its fingers waving back and forth at the hood which shrouded her clitoris, the other hand was held out eight inches from the side of her ass. Grasped firmly in her fingers, pointing directly at her small round arse, was the webcam!
His head jerked up toward the screen and, sure enough, there were his fingers in super life size buried to their ends in her wet hole, sudsy liquid from her bubbling where he entered her. Alongside her hand waggled back and forth over herself. As he continued to trace his pattern in there, he saw the screen pan to the side and his hard dick came into view. It looked larger on screen than he thought it would, and was very pleased to hear her murmurs of appreciation as it came it to view. Then, strangely, it panned over to his hand trapped on the table, his fingers there were subconsciously mimicking the movements of the other.
“Ahh fuck me this is so good. SO FUCKING GOOD! You’re making me cum. YOU’RE MAKING ME FUCKING CUM!”
She screamed out her climax as her pussy gripped at his fingers. Her hand stopped moving and instead cupped her mons as her hips collapsed against the table, her legs tightened and squeezed together in a writhe of ecstasy. The screen panned wildly as she let the camera go, its cord trailing through her fingers as it slowly wound its way to the ground.
She lay still, heavy slow breathing her only movement, for a number of minutes. Eventually he slowly withdrew his fingers from her tight, spasmed tube. She responded with tremors as he did so, finally resulting in a tiny torrent of her fluid escaping to join the wash down her leg.
“You have no idea how much I needed that” she eventually breathed. “That was so fucking good…”
She slowly peeled herself off the table. Her skin, reluctant to leave it, clung to it as she rose. She turned and leant down to him as he reclined in the chair, kissed him once, softly and fully, before turning again and easing his taped hand from it’s incarceration.
“Sorry, that was a little fantasy of mine” she confessed. When he was free she smiled sheepishly at him. “Leftovers from the Addams Family” She laughed a schoolgirl giggle at him.
“Oh Shit and I was supposed to ask you to call me Morticia! Not Mistress. I couldn’t remember her name!” She laughed again this time more fully and he delighted at her boobs rippling with her mirth.
He had no idea what she was talking about, but smiled back adoringly at her anyway.
After turning everything off, being careful to save the recording to her desktop, she gathered her clothes, bundled them under her arm and asked him to come with her back to her office for 'his turn'. Then she turned and strode off down the hallway, naked, singing:
"They're creepy and they're kooky, mysterious and spooky..."