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Not Prim or Proper

Category: Mature
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Chapter One: Unrecognizable.

“I don’t usually drink,” said the woman in the passenger seat, and the voice was just as slurred as it had been when she said the exact same sentence a half hour ago.

“I know,” I replied, keeping my eyes on the road and being extra careful, because even though I had very little to drink and would pass any breathalyzer test, the last thing I wanted to do was to have to do stupid human tricks on the side of the road for a state trooper.

Not when I had something much better in mind. “You told me that before.”

“You must think I’m a slut,” she said, and even though the word ‘must’ came out as ‘musk’, I knew what she meant. “Going back in the woods with you like that.”

“No,” I assured her. “If I did, then I guess I would be a slut too.”

“That’s okay,” she said, patting me on the thigh and giving it a little squeeze. “Guys are supposed to be sluts.”

At the red light, I glanced over at the woman beside me, and although I had worked with her for the last five years, she was unrecognizable to me. The petite blonde who was always so prim and proper in the office had vanished about a half dozen beers ago, and had been replaced by a somewhat dazed and disheveled version of Ms. Diane Romano.

Her blouse was rumpled, and it was lucky that it was a loose fitting top because otherwise it would have revealed that her bra had been nudged up and was no longer doing what it was intended to do. That was my doing, I’m afraid, but it wasn’t entirely my fault. My hand was invited under the blouse of Ms. Romano by the lady herself back in the woods, and what kind of man could refuse that kind of invitation?

Finding myself driving Diane Romano to her house on a Friday afternoon was not something I had planned on doing when the day had started. What had started as an innocent company picnic at a charming local spot that specialized in clambakes and the like had become something far more interesting, and how it came to pass that I was pulling into the driveway of the beige raised ranch of the office manager is a story in itself.


Chapter Two: Picnic table confidential.

“I’m 55,” Diane Romano had announced to me at the picnic table, and the information startled me for two reasons.

The first reason was that I hadn’t asked her age. She had simply blurted it out when I returned to the table with a couple of cups of beer. The others in our group were up dancing to the usual standards like the Electric Slide and the Chicken Dance, and when Diane passed on dancing, I was happy to stay with her.

The second reason was that I had figured her to be at least 10 to 15 years younger. She had a very young looking face, with only the slightest signs of age showing around her eyes and neck, and she had a very petite and girlish figure. One that I had admired from afar at work ever since I had started there.

Ms. Romano ran the office, while I was pretty much a grunt in the warehouse despite being a foreman, and although our paths would sometimes cross, there was something about the relationship between the office and the warehouse personnel that suggested that we laborers weren’t exactly as good as the office folks were in the social order of things.

I guess that was what these outings were intended to do; break down the walls and have us all intermingle. Diversity is our strength and all that jazz. For me it had been a welcome afternoon off from the daily grind, and a couple of years ago it had become very interesting for me as I had found myself in the nearby woods with one of Ms. Romano’s staff.

Something about alcohol that breaks down the inhibitions of some people, and it certainly had that afternoon. Why else would a married woman with four kids drag me back into the woods and practically rip off my clothes before screwing me like an animal? What an experience that had been!

“Well, you don’t look it,” I replied, while my eyes took in the view from across the table.

Diane’s blonde hair was cut short, and she wore glasses that were apparently designed to make her look as plain as possible. The short-sleeved blouse she wore was shapeless, and her arms were pale and slender, as were her legs, exposed in the shorts she wore. She wasn’t so much skinny as she was tiny and petite, and since at work she always wore clothing that pretty much covered her from neck to toe, seeing these little peeks of flesh were a revelation of sorts.

“Diane? You okay?”

The voice came from behind me, but I didn’t have to turn around to know that the voice belonged to Rachel Berry, one of Diane’s staff members. I tried not to cringe as my worlds began colliding, while Rachel moved to the side of the picnic table.

“I’m fine,” Diane said with a wave of her hand. “Go do the Hustle, or whatever that is.”

“Okay,” Rachel said as she cast a somewhat scornful look at me while trying to show concern to her boss. “Join us if you want.”

“Sure,” Diane said, and after Rachel had left Diane muttered one word. “Bitch.”

“Ouch!” I said.

“She’s probably jealous,” Diane said, giving the revelers out on the concrete dance floor a look of disdain. “Maybe she thinks I’m trying to get you to do what you did to her a couple years back here.”

I jumped a little at that, since Rachel was the woman that had taken me back to the woods here that day, and I was stunned to learn that Ms. Romano was aware of the incident. I hadn’t said a word to anyone about it, so there was no one else that it could have come from.

“Didn’t think I knew about that?” Diane said with a giggle, and the sound seemed out of place coming from her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Can’t say as I blame you though,” Diane said looking at Rachel dancing with the others. “I was going to say something like what’s she got that I don’t have, but that’s obvious, isn’t it.”

I knew what Diane was talking about, but liked the way the conversation was taking a more interesting turn, so I decided to see how drunk Ms. Romano was.

“You mean the accent?” I said innocently, referring to the remnants of the southern accent Rachel had, but Diane shook her head and gave me a knowing look.

“You know what I mean. The boobs,” Diane said, nodding over to where Rachel was doing her best to garner the attention of the rest of the dancers by shaking her considerable bosom around flamboyantly. “Must be nice to have breasts.”

“Breasts are nice, but a tad overrated,” I suggested.

“I don’t have any,” Diane said, stifling a burp. “Breasts. I’m flat chested.”

“You don’t look it,” I said, and although the blouse she was wearing made it hard to tell, I knew she was small on top. “Besides, what’s that saying? More than a handful is a waste?”

“You’ve got big hands,” Diane said, reaching over and taking my right hand in her two hands, rubbing it while glancing around to see if anybody is watching. “Even if you didn’t, I still don’t have a handful. More like a mouthful.”

I felt Diane’s foot under the table, rubbing my calf with her bare foot, her toes sliding up and down as she let go of my hand.

“A mouthful you say? Now that sounds interesting,” I said, enjoying the way she was childishly teasing me.

“It does?” Diane said coyly. “Well, you haven’t seen them yet, so maybe you’re just being a gentleman.”

“I always try to be a gentleman,” I said, and that was a way to try and counter what people might expect from a guy that was 6’4″ and about 260 pounds. “At least in public, that is.”

“How about in private?” Diane said, continuing to rub my leg with her little foot.

“I try and keep my private side private,” I answered.

“So I notice,” Diane said, returning her look at Rachel dancing. “I guess that you aren’t going to give me any details about you and Miss Piggy out there. She said that you really made her squeal. Get it? Miss Piggy? Squeal?”

Diane laughed at her own goofy joke, which she felt needed explanation for some reason, but her laugh was so infectious that I joined in.

“Funny,” I offered in response. “I have nothing to say about Rachel except she’s an asset to the company.”

“She’s more of an ass than an asset, but she had plenty to say about you.”

“Is that so?” I said dryly, curious but not wanting to ask what, but since Ms. Romano started gabbing there was no stopping her.

“She said you’re hung like a horse and you were the best she ever had,” Diane said.

“What brought on that conversation?” I asked.

“A couple of girls talking after happy hour,” she replied.

“Was there towel snapping and a tickle fight involved?”

“Is that all guys think about?” Diane slurred, but was grinning when she said it.

“Pretty much.”

“Well, there was no towels or tickling,” Diane said, and grinned wider.

“You have talented toes,” I said, changing the subject, as Diane’s foot continued making long sweeps of my calf.

“I love your legs,” Diane said. “They’re so hairy. You’re hairy all over.”

Diane’s eyes went to my arms, which were covered with thick black hair, and to the neckline of my T-shirt, where hair sprouted out wildly.

“Lucky me,” I scoffed. “The Sasquatch look isn’t all that popular these days.”

“I guess that means I’m even more dated than I feel, because to me there’s nothing sexier than a big hairy guy like you,” Diane said, and then blushed as she looked around to see if anyone had heard her. “Oops. Did I really say that?”

“Maybe it was the beer talking,” Diane said.

“In that case, maybe I should get you another,” I offered. “Because I like what it’s saying.”

“It’s not nice to tease an old lady,” Diane said. “Although I enjoy hearing it.”

“If I see any old ladies, I’ll keep that in mind, but right now I’m talking to you,” I replied, not bothering to mention that I had always much preferred older women anyway.

When we looked at each other, I think we were both surprised. Diane was surprised that I wasn’t fooling around when I said that, and I was surprised at her being interested in me. Frankly, I look at most women and fantasize about what they would be like in bed, but prim and proper Diane Romano was so out of the realm of imagination that I never had entertained the thought with any seriousness until now.

“I’m going to get rid of some of this,” Diane said as she tipped her cup and rose unsteadily to her feet, nodding toward the isolated building that housed the bathrooms on the other side of the facility. “If you would like to continue this conversation, Mr. Brown, you could always wander casually toward the bathrooms after a few minutes, and meet me behind the building.”

Diane smiled a crooked grin and made a few stumbling steps before righting herself and heading for the bathroom, pausing in the middle of the dance floor to do a couple of exaggerated dance moves to the delight of her co-workers.

“Damn,” I muttered to myself as I watched the tiny woman disappear into the ladies room.

This was crazy on every level. 55, even if she didn’t look it, was more than twice my age, and as for Diane herself, the woman was so tiny that I couldn’t picture myself with her. I was afraid that I would crush her accidentally. All of this combined to have me in a trance, and I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice Rachel leave the dance floor and come over to me just as I was about to leave and meet Diane.

“I see you’ve got your sights set on more exotic game this year, Mike,” Rachel said, inviting herself to join me. “Going for the vintage models? I think you might be barking up the wrong tree there, my friend. Not even you could melt that Ice Princess.”

“We were just talking,” I said.

“Looked like you were doing most of the listening,” Rachel said. “She hasn’t been with a guy since her husband left her seven years ago, or didn’t she tell you that yet? What are you going to do? Meet her back in the woods where you took me?”

“Hardly,” I said, wanting to end this conversation so I could do exactly what Rachel implied. “I think Ms. Romano said she was leaving. And anyway, as for the woods, I think it was more like you taking me back there, wasn’t it?”

“Who knows? Who cares?” Rachel said, leaning forward to rest her jugs on the table as she leaned over. “Frankly, I don’t think she could handle a man like you. There’s not much to her, and you would rip her in two. If you aren’t going back there to meet her, how about we go back and reminisce? You know I can take it. It was good, wasn’t it? You and me?”

“Of course it was, but look – you have a husband and kids,” I reminded her, and while I love women, I didn’t really enjoy being part of any cheating, no matter how big and full those breasts of Rachel’s are.

“Not here at the picnic I don’t,” Rachel said, and after she squirmed in her seat I felt her foot land on my crotch under the table. “I still think about that, don’t you? I haven’t cum like that since – hell – never.”

“I think we should just keep it at that. A memory,” I offered while my second game of footsie in ten minutes continued under the table. “Chances are it wouldn’t match the last time if we did it again, you know?”

“Not from lack of trying on my part,” Rachel said, and pouted when I pulled her foot off of my lap. “And I know you’ve got what it takes on your end.”

“Thanks, but I’ve got to go to the can anyway,” I said. “Maybe we’ll dance later.”

I excused myself and weaved my way through the crowd to the bathroom, wondering whether Diane has gotten tired of waiting, or maybe just passed out. Maybe she was just kidding around, but as I quickly took care of business, I knew there was only one way to find out.


Chapter Three: Act like nothing is up.

As I exited the bathroom, I tried to act like nothing was up, and that probably made it worse, but everybody was busy doing some other stupid dance and looking like fools, so I was as subtle as possible as I spun around the back of the brick building and into the woods.

There was a bunch of paths that wound around the nature preserve that surrounded the picnic grove, so after I pondered the choices I headed straight ahead, only to hear footsteps behind me. Diane.

“Thought you got cold feet,” Diane said, leading me down a path that was a little more overgrown that the herd trail I had been going down.

“Not me,” I said, letting the diminutive woman weave her way around some downed trees and into a little clearing not bigger than a phone booth with a decaying tree stump in the center.

“While I was waiting I found this place,” Diane said, and got up on the stump on shaky legs, putting her hands on my shoulders for support. “Look! I’m almost as tall as you are now.”

“I see,” I said, looking at Diane almost at eye level instead towering almost a foot and a half above her.

“What kept you?” Diane said, her hands on top of my shoulders and her fingers kneading them softly.

“Rachel came over just as I was getting up.”

“I know, I saw her with her boobs hanging on the table and saw you looking at them too. What did she want?”

“Just talking,” I said. “She wanted to know if I was meeting you back here. I told her I thought you went home.”

“Good,” Diane said, biting her lip as she leaned closer to me, the floral scent of her perfume overcoming the scent of beer. “What else did she say? She told you about us, I assume?”

“Us?” I asked. “Me and you?”

“Never mind – never mind,” Diane said, shaking her head quickly and almost losing her balance.

I caught her before she toppled over, and as I pondered exactly what that last comment of Diane’s meant, she fell forward and kissed me. A sloppy kiss that made up for in passion what it lacked in precision. Her tongue found its way into my mouth, and as it found mine, Diane’s hand came down and grabbed mine, pulling it under her blouse.

It was warm under the fabric, and Diane’s skin was moist and smooth, her stomach flat as it slid upwards. I could feel her ribs as it moved upwards, and when I came up to her bra, my hand squeezed the cup and kneaded it gently.

Padded bra, I thought as I squeezed the quilt- like fabric. Very padded. Either than or falsies, and when I slipped my hand under the elastic of the underside of the brassiere, I was hoping for nothing to fall out.

Nothing did, so when I eased the harness up over her chest, my hand cupped what was the smallest breast I had ever felt. Maybe the size of a lemon, I thought at first, but after massaging the tiny bud I reconsidered. More like a lime, and not a very large one either, although the nipple attached was certainly womanly.

At that moment, I realized what it was that attracted me to this woman, although it wasn’t something that I could ever say to her. The short blonde hair, the blue eyes, and the petite body all were shockingly similar to an old girlfriend. My first girlfriend back in seventh grade, and there’s no way I could make that sound to Diane as complimentary as I really meant it.

Diane’s eyes were open during all of this, I discovered when I opened mine as our lips parted, and while Diane’s eyes were foggy, I could see the self-doubt she was experiencing. As for me, I had no doubt as to how I felt.

“Warned you,” Diane whispered. “Thought I might as well get that over with right now, so you know what you’re getting into. I saw the way you looked at Rachel, and I’m as far from that as a woman can be.”

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered back, letting my other hand join the party and vigorously knead her little titties. “They’re beautiful.”

Diane gave me a cynical look, and as she did I felt her hand slide down to my shorts. If she was looking to find out whether I was serious about what I had said, it didn’t take her long to find out.

“Oh shit, Mike!” Diane gasped as her hand followed the bulge that extended over to my hip, and as he hand started feverishly pulling on my semi-turgid organ, her eyes rolled back in her head a little. “Miss Piggy wasn’t lying about this thing, that’s for sure.”

With Diane perched precariously on the stump, we groped each other like animals for a minute, and just before I was going to suggest us finding a better place, we both heard the sound of someone going through the woods on a path nearby.

Looking at each other like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar, we moved over and tried to peek though the trees to get a glimpse at who was walking though.

“Rachel,” we both whispered simultaneously, and had to stifle giggles as we ducked back into our spot.

“Jealous little pig,” Diane said, and while I was tempted to ask which one of us she was jealous about, I bit my tongue, preferring to let the possibilities amuse me for a time, and while my mind entertained thoughts as to why Rachel was staggering around back there and what her intentions were, it was clear that we couldn’t stay back here and no matter how much of a buzz Diane had on her, she knew that this is the way careers are thrown away.

“Do you want to come to my place?” Diane asked. “Take advantage of my drunken state?”

“I don’t like to take advantage of women who don’t know what they’re doing.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Diane mumbled. “Just needed to get up the courage to do this. Okay?”

I nodded, and that is how I then ended up climbing the steps of the raised ranch, following the petite and shapely legs of Diane Romano as she led the way.


Chapter Four: Alone for real.

After Diane closed the front door behind me, she went back to being the wild and crazy woman I was with in the woods. She was tearing at my t-shirt while we walked down the hall, ending up in her bedroom by the time she yanked it over my head.

Diane’s face moved forward, where my nipple was right at mouth level, and as she fished around trying to get my belt off, I tried getting her clothes off. By the time my shorts hit the floor I had managed to pull her blouse over her head, but Diane went to her knees fast in front of me.

“Oh Mike!” Diane said breathlessly, letting her hand run along the front of my jockey shorts, following the bulge in my very crowded tight white briefs before grabbing the elastic and pulling them down briskly.

My erect cock sprang out of its confinement, swaying and bouncing around wildly before Diane’s hands grabbed it and began stroking it. Looking up at me, she held my cock in her hands while kissing the head, which was swollen and oozing seed.

Stroking it with open-mouthed fascination with her hot breath wafting over it, she seemed like she had never seen a cock before, and while I know I’m a little on the large side, it isn’t like I’m freakishly endowed or anything like that. It’s about 8 inches or so, which seems right on a 6’4″ guy, and isn’t abnormally thick either.

The only odd thing about my cock is the crown, which is as fat as a plum, and it was there that Diane seemed fixated, smothering her attention with her lips and tongue before trying to fit it inside her mouth. The scraping of her teeth on the taut skin of my glans was just as much a testimony to her small mouth as my size, so after a couple of failed attempts I reached down and pulled her up to her feet.

“I want to see you now,” I explained, not bothering to add that I was so excited that I would have popped my load in her mouth if she had managed to go down on me.

Diane’s glasses were now crooked and on the verge of falling off, so I pulled them off for her and set them aside. Her bra was up around her collarbone, and when she saw me staring at her titties her hands came up to cover them, but I would have none of that.

Pulling her hands away, I deftly undid the brassiere and tossed it aside while my hands cupped the tiny orbs and squeezed them roughly. This caused Diane to moan loudly, and after I tugged her shorts down I spun her around in front of the dresser and looked at our reflection in the mirror while standing behind her with my cock pressed against her back.

Reaching my arms around her diminutive frame, I resumed playing with her titties, tugging on her plump nipples and the pebbled aureolas, the size of which which dominated the little boobies that were centered upon.

“Harder,” Diane gasped, and although I thought I was treating her breasts roughly as it was, she was coiling her body in response to my tweaking, so I pulled out on her teats as she asked, taking the little bit of sag out of them as I pulled them straight out from her.

“Oooh!” she moaned, and with my chin resting on the side of her head she reached up and put her hands around my neck while writhing into me.

Looking at Diane in the mirror, I enjoyed the way her titties got even smaller with her arms upraised, but admit to being a bit shocked when I saw the little patches of golden brown hairs that were nestled in the deep pockets of her exposed armpits. Shocked, but certainly not put off by it, as it was yet another contrast to the image she worked so hard to portray at work.

Likely the product of a week or two without shaving, the faint strips of little hairs looked like seedlings against the creamy white skin of her underarms, and I couldn’t resist taking my hands from Diane’s nipples to let my fingers stroke the peach fuzz, which felt silky to the touch.

While Diane seemed embarrassed at first, probably never expecting to be exposed like this when she left the house that morning, she didn’t resist my caressing the moist fur under her arms before I went back to her breasts, which she seemed to revel in having me lovingly abuse.

“That’s it!” Diane gasped as I twisted her nipples like the knobs of a radio, and it seemed like there was no way I could manhandle them enough to suit her.

Pressing my cock into the middle of her spine, my hands went down to her panties, and as I worked them down, I kept looking at the mirror while her pussy was revealed.

Diane’s hip bones were faintly visible, as were her ribs as she kept her hands around my neck while joining me in looking at us in the mirror. Her pussy had only a little spray of golden brown fur, forming a triangle that was so sparse I could easily see the tiny lips of her sex through it.

“You’re so damn wet,” I hissed in her ear as I reached down and let my hand slide through her delta.

“Fuck me,” Diane spat as my finger slipped inside her very tight opening, and when I was slow in accommodating her, she took matters into her own hands.


Chapter Five: Up and away.

Moving with a quickness that startled me, Diane spun around and jumped up into me. I instinctively caught her, and as she wrapped her hands around my neck from the front this time, she grew adamant.

“Put it in me!” she hissed, wrapping her legs around me while kissing my neck.

Well, that was easier said than done, I learned. Even though Diane was as light as a feather, I had a lot of trouble trying to hold her and put myself inside of her, and even when I managed to get my cock at her opening I couldn’t get it inside of her, so I set her down on the dresser, knocking over a couple of bottles of cosmetics in the process.

“Hurry!” Diane insisted, pushing the toppled things onto the floor while looking down at me rubbing the head of my cock up and down the wet channel of her sex.

I loved the way this usually dignified woman had become almost a cartoon-ish example of a nymphomaniac, becoming almost feral in her need for me. Her excitement was contagious, so after moistening the head of my tool with her pussy, which was positively dripping at that point, I pushed forward.

She was beyond tight. The tiny pussy of hers would not let me in, and while I had rarely experienced this problem in the past, getting the over-sized glans of my member inside of her was proving to be a challenge.

“Like trying to put an apple though the eye of a needle,” one lover from the past had described it, but most women had no problem with me, and I was as determined as Diane was for this to happen, so after trying to be as gentle as possible, I simply took the shaft of my cock in my fist and pushed with all my might.

“Aww!” Diane screamed as the head popped in, and the sudden entry made me accidently push most of the rest of me into her as well.

It felt like I was tearing Diane up as my cock slammed into that long neglected pussy, but if it hurt she didn’t seem to mind. Maybe it was because it hurt that it made it good for her, but whatever the reason, Diane took every inch and jumped back into me, wanting more.

So back she went into my arms, and the reflection of me holding this wisp of a woman and bouncing her up and down on my cock while I cupped her ass cheeks in my palms was so erotic that I found myself watching us like it was a movie.

Diane wasn’t watching; she was snarling and clawing at my back and shoulders, leaving red scrapes that looked like I had been mauled by a cat. Her teeth sank into my collarbone so deep I could have sworn she drew blood instead of leaving the imprint of her teeth in the skin.

When Diane came, she came hard and loud, so loud that if this had been an apartment the cops would have been there any minute, and when her pussy clamped down on me with her orgasm it felt like it was in a vice.

It wasn’t the weight of Diane that made me eventually carry her over to the bed, but more the fact that we had become so sweaty that it was getting tough to hold onto each other, so when I dropped the lithe lady onto the mattress she didn’t mind. We also got to experience the feel of me entering her again as I mounted her.

“Fuck me hard,” Diane commanded, her face contorting as I began thrusting into her once again, and maybe it was because it felt like she was ordering me around like we were at work, but for whatever reason this got me irritated.

“You want it hard?” I snarled, and promptly began slamming into the little woman with a savageness that even surprised me.

I thrust into Diane with all my might and as fast as I could, impaling her with every inch of me. Soon all I could think about was the rhythm and the sound of us as we collided. The slapping of wet skin and the sloppy sounds my cock made going inside of her, along with the little grunt Diane was making with each stroke, filled my ears as my sweat rained down on Diane like a monsoon.

I guess my intent was to show her who was boss and to make her beg for mercy, but apparently what I was doing was just what she wanted, because she kept screaming and clawing her way through another orgasm. I lost it myself as she came, filling her pussy with what seemed like a copious amount of cum.

“I needed that bad,” Diane said as she looked up at me suspended above her, my perspiration still dripping on her, and it seemed like she was enjoying the feel of it as it sprinkled over her face and neck.


Chapter Six: Resting.

I sank down next to Diane and looked up at the ceiling along with her, resting as I waited for her to drop off or send me on my way. This rest period lasted for about 10 or 15 minutes, and before I knew it Diane was kneeling beside me, rubbing the underside of my flaccid cock with the flat of her hand while it lay on my stomach.

I looked over at Diane, who seemed fixated at what she was doing to my dick, and when I looked over between her legs, I could see my cum drooling out of her pussy, long strands of my seed hanging on the hairs of her sex before falling onto the bedding.

When Diane saw where I was looking, she reached down and swiped her hand between her legs befor wiping the messy load of both our fluids on the underside of my dead dick. A dead dick which Diane was determined to bring back to life no matter what, so she held my limp dick in her little hands, stretching and pulling on it before going down on me.

Even soft, she was having a lot of trouble getting much of me in her mouth, so she spent a lot of time licking it, which was fine with me.

“Got a small mouth,” Diane said with a wink as she looked up from what she was doing. “At least physically. My dentist has problems too. Maybe that’s because subconsciously I don’t want his stuff in there, but I want to suck this big boy so bad.”

Problem was, that’s what she was doing. Sucking it so bad, that is, and although she was getting me a little harder, she soon grew tired of waiting.

“Up on your hands and knees, Mike,” Diane commanded.

I did as she asked, and Diane arranged me so that my head was on the bed while my ass was way up in the air. Diane knelt behind me, her hands running down the back of my thighs as I looked back from underneath. Not much to see at first besides my swinging cock and balls and Diane’s pussy, but then I felt Diane’s hands on my ass, spreading the cheeks apart.

I accommodated as best I could, relaxing my muscles as I felt her warm finger slide into my ass. It felt nice, and what made it even nicer was the fact that it was Diane Romano’s finger in my ass. While I wondered what the office would think about this, the warm and wet feeling intensified. What in the world was this?

A look back underneath me gave me all the evidence, even if I couldn’t see. That was no longer a finger in my ass, stroking and carressing my anus, because both of Diane’s hands had come down between my legs and were busy milking my cock like I was a cow.

That was her face pressed up hard in the crack of my ass and that was Diane’s tongue burrowing inside of me. My cock surged as she kept rimming me, her hands jerking on my cock and playing with my nuts roughly, and before long I was as hard as blue steel.

Diane pushed me over onto my back and mounted me quickly, her hands guiding my cock to her opening as she crouched over me like a cat before impaling herself on me slowly.

“Fuck!” Diane snapped, her face twisting as her eyes rolled back in her head. “Feels even bigger this way.”

Soon she was undulating herself on me with slow and deliberate movements, her ass pushing against the top of my scrotum as she ground into me. I reached up and grabbed her titties, squeezing and pulling on the doughy little orbs while Diane ran her hands through her hair and shook her head from side to side.

Her skin was glistening with sweat; both her sweat and mine, and little trickles of it wiggled down from her fuzzy armpits and down her sides as she did her erotic dance on me. All I had to do was lay back and enjoy it, and that’s exactly what I did. Staying hard was no problem with this visual treat going on top of me, and Diane seemed lost in a world of her own, moving to a music only she could hear.

After what had to be 15 or 20 minutes of this, she moved my hands off of her breasts, apparently because I wasn’t rough enough on them, and as she pulled on those fat nipples she stretched out the skin of her tiny breasts to outrageous levels. Her movement increased in both speed and intensity, and while I held onto her bony hips for support, she began having an orgasm.

Orgasm was not the word for what she had. While she ground herself on top of me, her pussy slamming around my cock in an endless succession of violent seizures, Diane let out a howl that sent shivers down my spine.

I watched as Diane began writhing around like a woman possessed. Her face was so contorted it looked like she was in a G-force simulator, and as she tried to pull her nipples clear off of her body her entire body began spasming in this bizarre female Joe Cocker imitation, jerking and dancing like a spastic marionette until she finally went still and sagged down on top of me, loudly breathing like a locomotive with her head on my chest.


Chapter Seven: Not my ass.

So I was under this little woman who had just provided me with the most amazing spectacle I had ever witnessed, but I hadn’t cum and my cock was still very hard. After trying to move my cock around inside of her without success in this position, I finally just lifted her up and set her on the bed next to me, face first on the sheet.

Climbing up to my knees, I lifted Diane up by the hips so that she was on her knees as well. Her butt cheeks were so pale and tiny, and when I spread them apart I saw the most perfect little balloon knot imaginable, and Diane shivered when I stroked it.

“Not my ass,” Diane whimpered, her voice muffled my the bedding. “Please.”

I had no interest in going there, and was simply climbing up into her so I could get in her from behind. Her body relaxed at that, and when I slipped into her pussy from back there, she let out a soft sigh.

Diane was like a rag doll, letting me have my way from the rear, and she was so light that I was almost moving her on me as I held her by the hips while sliding in and out of her with long deep strokes.

“Don’t,” Diane mumbled. “Don’t cum in me.”

I didn’t know what that meant. If she was worrying about getting pregnant, it was a little late for that, but when I felt like I could hold back no longer, I grunted, “Gonna cum.”

At hearing that, the formerly placid Diane scrambled out from under me and spun around, her face between my legs. Her little paws grabbed my cock, which was swollen and a ghastly shade of red, and began to yank on it hard while her lips and tongue slobbered all over the tip of it.

I erupted, sending jets of cum all over Diane’s pixie face. She opened her mouth and caught some of it, but the rest of it landed all over her face and neck, with her cheeks and chin getting the most of it.

After I stopped cumming, Diane kept yanking on it like she expected more, and I was forced to gently but firmly pull her hands off of my cock. After a minute of licking my deflating member, Diane slid out from under me and walked over to the dresser, putting on her glasses and looking at herself in the mirror before coming back over to me and smiling before heading off to the bathroom.


Chapter Eight: Departure.

I didn’t spend the night for a couple of reasons, the primary one my preferring to avoid the awkward morning-after scenes. The second reason was that for once, I was the one that was wearing out. My cock was so red and sore from Diane’s constant attention over the 6 hours or so that we were at her place that I needed a break, and that didn’t seem possible given Diane’s seemingly insatiable spirit.

So I left around midnight after a shower, which got pleasantly crowded with the addition of Diane, who insisted on assisting me. She was still raring to go when I managed to get my clothes on, and walked me to the door with reluctance.

“Thank you,” Diane said. “I had fun. It was really good.”

“The picnic?” I asked with a grin.

“First one I ever really enjoyed,” Diane said. “Got tired of watching everybody else have fun. Don’t know what got into me, besides you that is.”

A nice kiss goodbye, with Diane perched on the second step, and I was gone.

At work the next Monday, it was business as usual. Diane was her usual dictator self, acting like nothing had happened, and I only saw her once during the whole day. She smiled and nodded just like she always had in the past, and I returned the greeting, although seeing the prim and proper Diane Romano once again dressed in her business clothes with make-up and jewelry was quite a change from seeing her face all sweaty and dripping with my cum.

At the end of the day, after all my staff had flown the coop I punched out and brought the hand trucks to the store room as was my habit, so they didn’t disappear on us. After unlocking the door of the darkened room and pushing the carts into the room, I reached for the door only to have it slam shut behind me, and I almost had a coronary when the light came on.

“About time,” Diane said. “You put in a long day.”

Diane Romano was behind the door, and gone was the blazer and the frilly blouse and slacks. Diane Romano was very naked.

“What if it wasn’t me?” I asked. moving towards her with a lecherous grin.

“I know your routine,” Diane said as she unbuckled my belt.

“Surprised at me?” Diane asked before going down to her knees on the concrete floor. “I am too. There was no way I thought I could even last this long without you. I wanted to do this at lunch.”

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