It’s Friday morning – “Casual Friday” at the office. I’m walking along with a friend when I see her coming toward me in the hall. As usual, I’m curious to see how she will react to me, and as we approach one another, I can tell this will include the usual awkwardness. I’m slightly behind Gina, my friend, who speaks first, a pleasant, “Hi, Deborah!” that draws a smile and a “Hi” in return. But then she notices me, and the reaction is clear.
Not as blatantly obvious as it used to be, but still noticeable. Deborah’s face flushes and she looks away slightly, then adds a quiet, “Hi, Milene.”
Gina waits until we are well past, then nudges me and gives me a questioning look. “What was that all about?” she asks. “You do something to piss her off?”
I assure her that I didn’t, that for whatever reason, Deborah just seems uncomfortable with me at times. “It’s odd,” I add innocently, “because I work with her on a fairly regular basis.” But I know the truth. She is uncomfortable in these situations, but it’s because of the dirty little secret we share – a secret I know we’ll be sharing again in the near future.
Sure enough, soon after I return to my desk, a late afternoon appointment pops up on my calendar: “Deborah and Milene – Special Project”. I smile to myself. Of course it never specifies what the “special project” is, but I know. It’s Deborah herself, and my assignment is to lick and suck her until she is thoroughly satisfied – usually through several shivering orgasms. It’s by far the best assignment I’ve had at this job.
Deborah Taylor is the Director of my section, the woman that my supervisor, Angie, reports to. She’s much older than I – in her early forties, I think – though she looks awfully good for her age. She’s a tall woman – statuesque is the right term – and rather buxom, though not in the “big beautiful woman” sense. No, Deborah is tall, but very height-weight proportional. It’s true, her hips are fairly wide, showing the slight expansion that always seems to come with age, but not too wide, just full and womanly – and sexy. Looking at her, it’s obvious that she was an athlete in her younger days, perhaps in basketball, or (my guess) volleyball. Her sumptuous breasts and long, shapely legs just command your attention and set a girl to thinking naughty thoughts – at least, that is, a girl like me.
The irony is that it was Angie, my supervisor, whom I was really drawn to when I first started about four months ago. Angie is just adorable – a cute, petite blonde with a quick smile and a girlish laugh. Like Deborah, she’s older than I am, but not so much – about fifteen years older, in her late thirties. And while Deborah has the self-confidence and command of a person in charge, Angie has a natural warmth and friendliness that just wins people over immediately. From the start, she treated me as a valuable member of her team, despite the fact that I was an inexperienced temp. I was in love with her by the end of the first day.
But alas, Angie is very happily married, and all indications are that she is hopelessly straight. Of course, the same could be said about Deborah, though there are some indicators to give a girl hope. Deborah has been divorced for quite a while, at least ten years, and from what I hear, no one has ever seen her with a man. Of course, that may just be because she has no time for men. She’s pretty much a workaholic, arriving at the office before everyone else and seldom leaving before 6:00 PM. So there is really no indication that Deborah is interested in girls. On the other hand, we all have needs, don’t we?
It was my own needs I was thinking of as I sat in Angie’s office one Friday morning for our weekly meeting. My mind was wandering, as it often did in these one-on-one sessions. It’s not that Angie wasn’t interesting. In fact, it was just the opposite – she was far TOO interesting. Invariably I found myself swerving off into fantasyland, thinking of how sweet it would be to be with her in another, more private setting. And such was the case that day. Just as I was thinking how adorable she looked, fighting the urge to lean forward and kiss her on those darling lips, I came back to reality to hear, “… so Deborah wants you to work on this special project for her. She’ll set up a time to talk about it.”
“Oh… okay,” I stammered, trying to regain my focus. “Gee, working with the director – I wonder why she would choose me?”
“Probably because I told her how wonderful you are,” Angie said with a smile and a wink. “I know you won’t let me down.” She reached over and touched my arm for emphasis, sending a little jolt of excitement up my spine.
God, I do love this woman, I thought. I returned her smile and assured her I’d live up to her expectations. Then I listened attentively as she explained more about the project – something to do with employee bonus plans for the coming year.
The meeting with Deborah was actually later that day. Her secretary told me she was running late – from her look, that seemed to be a common occurrence – and that I could just wait in Deborah’s office until she got back. I took a seat in one of the “guest” chairs, in front of her desk, and filled my time by looking around the room. It was a nice office, not overly large, but roomy enough and nicely furnished. Her desk chair looked very comfortable – padded leather with a nice high back – and on the one side of the room was a sofa. I wondered if that was ever used or was just for show. She also had some personal effects, including business awards and what appeared to be souvenirs of personal trips. And of course, the usual family things – pictures of her and her two kids, who, from the pictures, were both in their teens.
I had no idea what to expect from Deborah, and I got my first surprise when she rushed into the room, apologizing for being late. It was, of course, “Casual Friday”, and Deborah took advantage of it like everyone else. The surprise was not that she was wearing jeans. It was the way her designer jeans fit – tight and completely form-fitting, like a thick coat of paint, highlighting every curve of her long, athletic legs. And when she sat down – oh my god, they were even tighter, clinging everywhere, including a snug fit in the perfect vee between her legs. I had to stop myself before she caught me staring.
Apparently Deborah had practically run from her previous meeting to try to be on time for ours. She fanned herself to cool down, smiling cutely and laughing at her own expense as she brushed her light brown, chin-length hair away from her face. But then she quickly got down to business, laying out the project and the role she expected me to play. I listened intently, but I was constantly distracted by her body. I couldn’t help but sneak an occasional peek at her denim-wrapped thighs and that luscious spot between them, imagining how much fun I could have down there.
Luckily, she didn’t notice. Unlike me, she was completely focused on the task at hand. However, I was pleasantly surprised by her personal interaction with me. I quickly saw a softer side of Deborah, with a warm smile and an easy laugh that contrasted with the stern impression I had had from our few, fleeting encounters in the past. The smile also softened her features considerably. I quickly found myself very attracted to her – both personally and physically. By the end of the meeting, I wanted her badly.
The project was on a fast track, so we met several times over the next couple of days. My desire for her only grew as the meetings progressed. I found Deborah to be warm and open, with a self-deprecating humor and a fun-loving nature. Where before I saw a rather cold, intimidating boss, now I saw an attractive, professional woman with blend of competence, maturity, and sweetness. After several meetings, I was determined to find a way to seduce her, despite the apparent odds against me..
My desires were of course frustrated for some time. While Deborah was always extra nice to me, even seemed to care for me as a person, she gave no indication of a preference for women, nor any inclination to become involved with a subordinate. I tried to tell myself that my case was different, since I was a temp , not an employee, but I knew that, even if Deborah were interested, she would never put her position in jeopardy by doing anything sexual with me. On the other hand, we seemed to meet far more often than the project required, with lots of personal, rather than strictly business interaction. That gave me hope, and I yearned for a chance at her.
After several weeks, I had reached the point where I felt I had to do something. It was once again Casual Friday, and Deborah was wearing those deliciously tight jeans that just drove me crazy. And to make matters worse, on that day she wore something somewhat out of character for her – a lovely sleeveless blouse with a plunging neckline that showed lots of skin, including much more cleavage than I’d seen before. Now I had that to dwell on in addition to her charms lower down. Ten minutes into the meeting, I was completely hot and bothered. I decided right then that the time had come to go for it.
Still, I had no clue how I was going to make a move on her. She was all business as usual and of course never noticed my furtive glances at her full boobs or that lovely spot between her legs. But then I found my opening. After half an hour going over numbers and presentation slides, we were wrapping up when Deborah suddenly hunched her shoulders and winced in pain.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Oh nothing,” she replied. “I’ve just had this shooting pain between my shoulders for the past few days. It’s just tension, I’m sure, but it won’t go away.”
My heart fluttered as I suddenly realized my chance was here. “I can help with that,” I said. “I’ve had some massage training.” It was a white lie – I’d had no formal training, just some direction from my cousin who was a trained masseuse. But that didn’t matter. I knew I could fake it enough to get by.
Deborah objected at first, but I insisted, moving behind her to start before she could really say no. As I placed my hands on her shoulders, she gave in, but then hesitated. “Uh … why don’t you close the door,” she said. Then she added with a smile, “I don’t want anyone walking in on this.”
My heart was pounding now. Was there a hint of more than massage in her voice? I couldn’t tell, but I replied innocently, “Of course. I’ll just lock it to be sure.” She didn’t question my motives. Things were going so well!
I moved back behind her and started to massage her shoulders and upper back, a deep, thorough kneading of her muscles that quickly had her sighing with relief. “Oh, that feels so good,” she murmured. “You really are good at that.” I was dying to show her what else I was good at, but I restrained myself for the time being, sticking to an innocent, relaxing massage.
But that changed over time. As Deborah relaxed and got into the feeling, I slowly, subtly let my hands wander farther off her shoulders, inching down toward her bare arms, then sneaking down to the rise of her breasts, my fingertips tracing lightly over her exposed skin. “It’s best to combine some easy stroking with the more intense grips,” I told her. I had no real basis for that approach. It was just an excuse to touch her there, but for whatever reason, she seemed to buy my explanation. And, even better, she responded with a soft sigh that told me she liked it.
It took every bit of patience I had, but I continued that approach for quite a while, alternately kneading her shoulders, then slipping down to caress her, each time becoming more bold with my reach. She had to know what I was doing, but she didn’t stop me. I was getting more and more excited, sensing that I may actually get what I wanted. Finally I couldn’t wait any longer – I took the big step. On my next journey down her chest, I actually slipped my hands into her blouse to cover both of her breasts. I heard a little gasp from Deborah and her eyes caught mine with a questioning look. But after a brief hesitation, they closed without a word – a tacit acceptance of what was going on. The massage was over, and the lovemaking had begun.
I squeezed her breasts gently a few times through her bra, then slipped my hands into the cups, at the same time leaning down to place a warm, soft kiss on Deborah’s neck. A shiver ran up my spine as I felt the pliant tips of her nipples rolling under my fingers. Deborah emitted a little cry, then a very brief protest. “Milene,” she asked softly, “what are …?” But the sentence never finished, turning into a quiet moan as my tongue worked wetly over her neck and shoulder and my fingers stayed busy within her bra.
“It’s okay,” I assured her, “just enjoy it. You deserve this.” And happily, she did just that, slipping down slightly in her seat, resting her head on the chair back as her eyes closed.
I unbuttoned her blouse, opening it so I could work more easily on her mounds. With a little nudge, I got her to raise up enough for me to reach behind her and undo her bra. In seconds it was off and on the floor, leaving her chest bare and easily accessible for my loving.
Deborah’s breasts were wonderful – just as I had imagined. I could tell they’d dropped just a bit with age, but they were still full and round, with large nipples that stood out tall and proud on their tips. The wide, tan areoles were already stippled with little goose-bumps of arousal. My hands moved lightly over the soft mounds, playing with the stiff nubbins, drawing a quick gasp and cry from Deborah. “Oh god,” she murmured, “they’re so sensitive.”
That was music to my ears. It told me I was on the right path. I intensified my caresses, rolling her nipples between my fingers while moving in to nibble softly at her right ear. Deborah gave another quiet cry, then a plaintive “Oh god,” as I lightly squeezed her breasts and simultaneously pinched both tips. I kept at that for quite a while, awakening her passion gradually through her sensitive nipples, until at last she was panting and moaning with need.
Sensing she was ready, I dropped to her side. I held her right breast in both hands and looked up at her intently, returning her wide-eyed stare as I slowly, dramatically opened my mouth to take in a large portion of her luscious tit. Deborah’s eyes closed and she groaned deeply as I worked diligently over her aroused flesh, sucking on the turgid tip, rolling my tongue wetly over the bumpy surface around it. She raised her chest for me, pushing her breast further into my mouth, her hand landing lightly on the back of my head to encourage my suckling. I sucked her like a starving baby as she moaned “Mmmmmm,” and then started a pathetic litany – “oh god, oh god,” over and over.
She kept that up as I moved over to give her other tit the same treatment. She said they were sensitive, and I could really see that now. I thought she might cum just from my mouth working on them. That would be amazing, but didn’t want it. I wanted to go down on her, to taste her and feel her cumming like crazy with my head between her legs. Still, I stayed on her chest, driving her passion until her nipples were rock-hard pebbles between my lips and her hand visibly trembled on the back of my head. She was making a rolling, mewling sound, and I knew she wouldn’t resist as I moved to the next act in our little melodrama.
Eagerly, I moved down her body, my hands keeping busy on her breasts while my mouth worked its magic on her torso. Her reaction was reflexive, her body arching up, her stomach muscles tightening and relaxing as I moved over them. She moaned desperately while I kissed and licked at her belly, running my tongue into the indentation of her navel before trailing down to lick seductively above the waistband of her jeans.
Quickly, I undid her belt buckle and unbuttoned her pants, then slowly slid the zipper down to reveal the bare flesh beneath. Deborah reacted sharply – a frantic “Oh no,” then “… please.” It wasn’t clear if it was a “Please don’t” or a “Please do,” and I don’t think it was clear to her either. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, but she couldn’t help herself. I assumed the “Please do,” and placed wet kisses on her lower abdomen that created new shivers through her body. Then, without pausing to ask, I slipped my hands into the waistband and started to inch it downward. She uttered another “Oh god,” but raised her hips to assist me in my efforts. I pulled her jeans down over her hips, then peeled them off her legs. In moments, they were off, revealing the smooth expanse of those firm thighs that I’d been dreaming about for weeks. I immediately moved to kiss them, spreading them enough to work the inner surfaces with my lips and tongue, enjoying the wonderful, slightly salty taste of her skin. Deborah moaned quietly and opened a little wider for me.
Her legs were quivering as I kissed them, licked them, nibbled at them, moving higher up on each pass. She knew what was coming, but by then she had passed the point of no return – she wasn’t going to stop me, even if she thought she should. I looked between her legs and was slightly surprised to see her wearing a thong. It was light in color – a kind of “nude” shade – and slightly translucent. I could see the bulging cushion of her fully-furred mound, and at the center of her crotch, a conspicuous wet spot that just thrilled me. She was definitely ready, and I moved in, the scent of her arousal wafting into my nostrils as I nuzzled into her vee. She tensed and moaned again in response – a response that intensified as I licked firmly at her panties, feeling the moisture growing beneath the thin fabric.
I couldn’t wait any longer – I had to taste her directly. My hands were trembling as I reached up to pull at her thong, desperately hoping that she wouldn’t stop me now. Deborah’s only response was an incredulous, “Ohhhhh, I can’t believe it.” It must have been a long time since anyone had made love to her like this, and she seemed to be amazed the a girl my age would want her. But she offered no resistance as I slipped her panties down and off. Her legs opened immediately. She was ready for me to pleasure her.
As Deborah’s legs parted, I got my first view of her treasure. She had a long, beautiful pussy – fleshy, complex, and mature – topped by a dense, trimmed mound of brown curls. The dark, full petals protruded from within, already glistening with juice, just begging for attention. I leaned in to place a slow, intense kiss at the center of her cunt, which brought a tremulous “Ohh-h-h-h-h” from my lovely boss. And then I did what I’d been waiting to do. I ate her out.
I licked Deborah softly, slowly, my tongue running delicately over her opening, exploring every little nook and cranny of her fleshy petals. She was making quiet pleasure sounds, suppressing more ardent noises for fear of being discovered in our forbidden tryst. She stayed at that level, under control, until I swirled boldly into her center and she could not hold back a louder “Mmmmmmm… Ohhh!!!!.” Her firm thighs clamped tightly around my head, deliciously trembling as I delved deeper into her pleasure pit.
Her legs relaxed a bit and she spread wider to give me more access to her private parts. I spread her lips and gazed for a second at the moist, pink flesh inside. Then I pushed my mouth into her gash, licking up and down in her heat, savoring the taste and feel of her warm, creamy flesh washing over my tongue. Deborah’s juice was flowing freely and she was making these wonderful, frantic sounds – quiet, high pitched noises somewhere between a cry and a squeal – such a contrast to her usual reserve and control. They were turning me on almost as much as the taste of her pussy.
I looked up over the gentle, undulating rise of her stomach, past her exposed breasts, framed prettily by her slightly disheveled blouse. Deborah was totally into the experience, her head back, her mouth open, her eyes closed as she took in the pleasure of my oral loving. She was moaning now, a rhythmic keening that matched the stokes of my tongue and the motion of her hips in my hands. Her body jerked each time I hit a sensitive spot, causing her full breasts to jiggle delightfully on her chest.
God, this was so hot. This woman was my boss – no, my boss’s boss – and there I was, on my knees, eating her pussy out. Despite my arousal, I maintained my slow, deliberate pace until she was squirming in the chair, quietly babbling, “omigod omigod omigod” in a continuous string. Her hand rose to cover her mouth and she seemed amazed by what was happening to her. At this point Deborah had given up maintaining any trace of decorum or composure and had surrendered to the wonderful feelings I was providing between her legs. I took a long, excruciatingly slow swipe over her enflamed clitoris and she responded with a shiver and an extended groan, “Nnnggghhh…. GOD!” She shimmied in my hands and tried in vain to maintain control, but I persisted until her hips rose out of the seat, straining and shuddering in response to my assault.
I knew she was close to cumming, but I couldn’t decide what to do. My first instinct was to back off, to stretch it out and extend the pleasure, both hers and mine. But I was dying to make her cum and I could see that she needed to be satisfied. I opted for a quick release and intensified my assault on her engorged flesh, switching to extended, deliberate licks from her asshole up to her clit. That brought more cries as both her hands went to my head with a desperate, iron grip. I took one last lick and then covered her clit with my mouth, sucking it in while my tongue flicked repeatedly over the swollen head. Deborah stifled a scream, made a deep, growling sound, and cursed under her breath. Then she jammed my mouth roughly into her cunt as she hit her peak. I grabbed her hips and just hung on while those luscious thighs scissored violently around my head and the cream poured out of her. I could feel my own juices wetting my panties as this lovely, strong woman came in my mouth.
It was a delicious, intense orgasm that went on for a long time. Deborah bucked and writhed in the chair, instinctively pulling her legs up as they shimmied and shook in ecstasy. Her lips were franticly clamped shut, stifling the screams that would otherwise accompany the violent spasms coursing through her. I rode it out, doing my best to keep my mouth pasted over her wet hole as she throbbed in ecstasy.
At last the waves began to ebb and she returned to the real world, though her legs were visibly shaking and she still cried out each time her body twitched with a new aftershock. I kissed her thighs, calming those warm, trembling pillars while my hands caressed her hips and stomach. I reached up to hold her full breasts, delighted to once again feel those warm pillows overflowing my palms.
I continued to caress her for a few minutes, licking her inner thighs, close to her quim but never touching it. But I just couldn’t help myself – it was so good making her cum, and I Wanted more of her. On my next trip up her leg I didn’t stop – I continued to her open gash. My god, Deborah’s juice was everywhere, and still flowing out of her. I began to clean up the mess I’d made and felt her tense a little at this new touch. It was a response to the stimulation, not a tension of resistance. I licked lightly over her clitoris and she gave a little cry, then looked down at me, wide-eyed. “Oh my god,” she whispered incredulously. “More?”
I looked up and smiled sweetly. “Mmmmmm,” I responded, “definitely more.” I licked into her again and with a moan her head dropped back, her legs opening wider to receive her new pleasures.
It was even better the second time. Deborah was past the guilt and worry that inhibited her earlier. Now she just wanted more sex. I licked lightly over her labia and was rewarded with a breathy “Ohhhhhh.” Deborah’s legs spread wider and I pushed them out and back until they were draped over the arms of the chair. Her head was all the way back now. and her body was lewdly positioned for my attention, her mound thrust upward, begging for my mouth. I quickly covered it and returned my tongue to its proper place, eagerly slurping inside her. She responded with a fervent, “Ohhhh … yesssss” as her thighs throbbed warmly against my ears.
I couldn’t stand it anymore. I’d been eating her out for a good half hour – no, a wonderful half hour – but I’d had no relief myself and I was going crazy. I paused for a moment, just long enough to undo my own jeans, enough to let my hand slip down the front. I don’t think Deborah even noticed. I moaned quietly as my fingers touched my pussy, my mouth never slipping from the succulent treat of Deborah’s cunt. My licking grew more frantic as my hand worked in my pants, and Deborah responded in kind, grabbing my head and working me vigorously back and forth in her open slot.
It didn’t take long for Deborah to cum again. Within minutes, she was bucking and writhing, her ardent cries, unrestrained now, filling the room. I wasn’t far behind her. The excitement of doing her, not once but twice, was too much, and while she was still in the throes of her orgasm, I was suddenly off on mine. It was incredibly good, as her passion fed mine and vice-versa, drawing both of us out through a series of intense, extended climaxes.
After a short rest, I did her one more time. Now there was no surprise and no resistance – Deborah just lay back with a smile and accepted what I gave her. We both got off again, and then it was finally over. As I got up off my knees, she scolded me, “You should be ashamed of yourself.” Of course she could not suppress a smile when she said it. When I asked why, she responded, her eyes flashing, “Because you’re so damned good!”
And so started our dirty little secret. Since then, our “progress meetings” have become more and more frequent, despite the fact that the project is well underway and progressing as planned. I’m pretty sure Deborah just makes up reasons for us to meet. The meetings are usually at the end of the day, and invariably end with my head between Deborah’s legs. She never reciprocates, never gives any indication she wants to, but I don’t care. I love doing her, love making her cum, seeing the spasms rock her lovely body and the marvelous glow on her face when it’s over.
So my temp job is going well. Deborah arranged for a raise in my pay rate, and I get plenty of hot sex right at the office – not a bad gig at all. My only complaint is that Iím still frustrated in one way: While I’m meeting regularly with Deborah, I also have my standard weekly meetings with Angie. And unfortunately, Angie still stirs me. Despite my times with Deborah, I still lust after Angie, too. I am still dying to make love to her, and still imagine her writhing on my bed and screaming my name as I tongue her through a series of exquisite orgasms. Sure, Deborah is wonderful, and she provides a delightful distraction from those unrequited desires for Angie, so I really have no right to complain.
But I’d really like to have them both.