I have been just so busy as of late. There have been a couple of events I have wanted to write about, but I haven’t found the time. The recession has just given me more work to do. I am not sure I’ll have time to write about both events, so I’ll start with one and see how the time goes.
The company for which I work has two buildings, one across the street from the other. I am in the annex, and I don’t have much need to visit the main building—at least not lately. Last week I needed to get some batteries for a wireless mouse, so rather than wait for intra-office mail delivery, I’d go myself. It takes less than 5 minutes to walk across the street, so I called to ensure there were some batteries available. Kelly, the receptionist, had some; so I decided to hoof it. She was chatting with, Maria, another female co-worker when I got there. I greeted the two and requested the batteries—2 AA—, having not anticipated the knee-jerk response of women when bringing AA batteries into a discussion. She jokingly asked me if I was really going to deprive Kelly of her AAs, to which I responded by asking Maria what she was doing in the reception area in the first place. She said she was spending time with her work wife: the best of both worlds—a good friend and no sex. Of course, I cocked my head, and as she noticed she responded that I wouldn’t understand because I was a guy. I agreed, retrieved the batteries and went on my way.
Yesterday morning, I stopped over at the main building and as usual exchanged hellos with the receptionist on my way in. I had a meeting and was exchanging good byes with her on the way out. She and Maria were standing and chatting again, so I said snidely to Maria, “You again?” She replied the same as last time: “I am spending time with her work wife: the best of both worlds—a good friend and no pressure for sex.” “No friend of mine,” I replied.
Maria answered, “Besides, she’s not a fan of this,” as she made a V-shape with her hands strategically at her crotch. She was going to say more, but Kelly blurted out, “I’m a fan of the penis.” Maria volunteered that she wasn’t expecting that response, but she restated it: “Kelly’s a fan of the penis.” I shrugged my shoulders and said, “Hey, I’ve got one of those.” Then a client came in, and the conversation dissolved.
Maria, by the way, is a lesbian. She has lived with her life partner for years, and they have an adopted daughter together. Kelly is single.
When Kelly asked where I was going as I was leaving her building the second time on my way to lunch, I told her, and she asked if I minded if she came. Without thinking, I agreed. I told her we could just start driving and decide on the way. She is a vegetarian, and I am just a picky eater.
She immediately apologised for her comment earlier. She said there is something about Maria that gets her in that mindset. Knowing Maria, I agreed. Maria can be pretty raunchy, but I don’t necessarily respond as I would like because it is a workplace.
“I don’t know why I said I was a fan of the penis this morning,” she said.
“I’m not much of a penis fan, myself,” I responded. “I’m more of a crack addict.”
We laughed together, and she said, “Yeah, but what kind?”
“I’m not too picky about that,” I replied.
“And what does that mean?” she asked, becoming more serious.
I stopped to catch her angle. “What do you mean, what do I mean?”
“What kind of crack are you talking about?” she asked again.
I was thinking we were on two different trains of thought, so I reluctantly clarified, “like the crack between your legs,” and almost immediately had a sinking feeling in my gut.
She answered straight away, “Of course, but which one?”
I was taken aback. We were on the same train of thought. I thought she was trying to clarify between her pussy and the drug, but she was referring to her pussy and her ass. “Personally, I could flip a coin.” And then the discussion just kept on down the path we had started, something like this…
“You’d really do that?”
“Do what; flip a coin?”
“You know what I’m asking.”
I was rather at a loss for words: “Yeah, of course.” I paused to wait for a response, but then I added,” and you wouldn’t?”
“I don’t think I would,” she thought aloud.
“Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“Why would you do that? Isn’t that sort of gay?”
“No, not it it’s next to your pussy…er…any pussy.”
“What’s wrong with my pussy?”
This conversation was getting too deep and a bit unnerving. “I wouldn’t think there is anything wrong with your pussy.”
“You want to go back to my place for lunch?”
I knew she didn’t want lunch. “I don’t think so. You know I’m married, and I’d probably be too nervous.”
“Too nervous for lunch?” she joked.
“No. Not for lunch, but I have a suspicion you have more on your mind than lunch.”
“I thought you were a crack addict.”
I wanted to say yes but was second guessing. “I am.”
“Do you find me ugly or unattractive?”
Kelly is a redhead in her late 30s—not the drop dead version of a redhead. She’s rather plain and a bit frumpy, but she’s artsy in a way. She’s Catholic and I have to admit that I pegged her as a bit more conservative.
“No, of course not. I am just not too sure. I have never felt that it was a good idea to date a coworker.”
“I’m not asking you to date me. Are you afraid your wife would find out?”
“Well, there is that. When was the last time you had sex?”
“With someone other than myself?”
I laughed. “Yeah.”
“I couldn’t tell you. It’s been years, I think.”
I was still trying to work around the situation. “And why is that, do you think? You’re an attractive girl in decent shape. You’re pleasant.”
“I don’t get out much. I’m a bit of a homebody, so I keep to myself.”
“Why me?” I had to ask.
“Why not you?”
“Sure,” I acquiesced, and she gave me directions to her place.
She led the way and let me into her one-bedroom ground-level apartment not far from the office, and then asked if I wanted something to drink. I declined. She poured herself some water, and it was pretty awkward.
“Why don’t we get comfortable,” I said to break the silence.
We moved from the kitchen/dining area into her bedroom. It was definitely a woman’s room—a woman’s house.
“Let me help you relax,” I said as I positioned myself behind her and kneaded her shoulders. She was tense, too.
She was starting to relax. “I love your hair. I love it when it’s down—like a wild woman, a mane.”
I ran my fingers through her hair, massaged her forehead and down along her jaw line as I moved quickly to the places behind her ears and down her neck. Consciously not wanting to waste any time, I reached my hand down the front of her blouse and cupped my hand around her left breast, though it was shielded by her bra—an unfamiliar impediment at my house. I unbuttoned the first button, and she continued with the rest. I followed suit, and commented favourably on her breasts when she released them from her bra.
Her breasts were a small B cup, freckled like her chest, and pointed with pale pink nipples. I groped them for a short while, and unfastened my trousers. Taking the cue, she removed her jeans, too. I asked her not to remove her panties yet, but to lie back on the bed, and I guided her back in that direction. I told her to lay face down so I could give her a massage. She didn’t have any massage oil, so I just gave her a light rub and squeezed her muscles. I didn’t think we had much time, though I wasn’t overly worried.
I massaged Kelly’s ass as I am wont to do, and then I worked her panties down the length of her legs. And then I removed my own. I rolled her over. Kissed her breasts and kissed my way down her belly to her exposed pussy. She was a true redhead with a trimmed bush. It was a bit of a tangle, but it was still nice. She had pretty prominent inner lips that were too much to hide behind her outer lips, what I’d call meaty—not at all like my wife’s. Vive la difference.
“I see the carpet matches the drapes. I’ve been waiting to see this since I first saw you,” I said as I licked along the area between her labia, took a quick dip in her hole, and dragged her natural lube upward as I made my way to her clit and moved back down. She was very wet and tasted great—and she smelled divine. I told her as much, but I didn’t want to lose focus, so I concentrated on her clit.
In what was about 5 minutes, she came. She wasn’t particularly loud, but she did heave and give a pronounced sigh followed by a sexy moan. I went south to taste her sweet nectar, and told her again how great she tasted, and then I started on her clit again. She didn’t say anything, and after a few minutes she came again—a bit harder, I could tell, but quieter.
“My turn, fan of the penis,” I said as I moved myself up to straddle her chest and point my cock into her mouth. She paused for a brief moment but then knew exactly what I wanted. I let her suck my cock for a few minutes before pulling away. “I’m ready for my crack fix,” I told her. “Roll over and get on your knees.” She seemed to be reluctant, but she did.
I rubbed my cock along the crack of her pussy, and I pressured myself inside slowly, rocking my hips to enter her deeper with each push. As is my habit in this position, I applied pressure with my thumb on her asshole. I kept it moist with her pussy juice and my saliva. After a while she loosened up, and my thumb was moving slowly in and out of her ass.
When I asked her if she wanted to do something different, she said sure. I asked her to roll over, so we could finish missionary style. I put my cock in her face again, and she sucked my cock for a couple strokes before I plunged it back into her pussy. When I was getting ready to cum, I asked her if she wanted me to pull out. She asked me where I wanted it, and I told her that anyplace was fine with me, just so long as it was inside. She told me to just keep it where it was, and I came inside her. It was nice, but when isn’t it. I gave a couple more strokes for good luck and patted her bush and ran my finger up her crack and inserted some fingers.
“That was nice,” I said.
She agreed, and she said she really liked the way I ate her.
“Let me get one more feel of those breasts,” I said as I reached for them.
“You want to clean up?”
We took a quick shower together and rubbed each other a bit. I let her clean my cock, a chore she seemed not to mind.
As we were getting dressed she said out of nowhere, “I thought you were going to try to screw my ass.”
I replied, “I would have, but you didn’t have any lube, and I didn’t think you would be up to it.”
“It felt so good when you were playing with it; I wasn’t going to stop you.”
“I thought you weren’t into that,” I continued.
“I’ve never done it,” she replied, “but I could have. I would have let you.”
“I’ll tell you what: If you really want to do it, I’m game. Just let me know. Maybe next week or something. We don’t have time now, and to tell you the truth, I don’t think I could anyway.”
She said, “I don’t think it would ever be something I looked forward to. It would have to happen in the moment.”
“I don’t know if we’ll ever do anything like this again. Not that I wouldn’t like to—and it was definitely fun and sexy—, but if we do, just say the word. I am not going to refuse your ass or any other part, but even if we had the time you need some lube. Oil works, but it’s not the rest (and that spiel).
We got back into my car and drove back to the office. I dropped her off at her building and continued on to mine. I have been thinking about it all weekend, and writing this didn’t help the matter. I am not sure what Monday will be like. I’ll just have to wait and see.
I thought I might be writing about 2 events, but given as long as this turned out, that will have to wait. All I’ll say is that is was about my wife’s birthday near the end of February.