Mrs Stone Teases

Okay, so why is there a cold patch of pre-cum in your boxers?

David shoved that thought aside. "Whatever," he said out loud, waving an impatient hand. "It didn't happen ... And there's no way I'm Skyping you either, Mrs-fucking-Stone."

But at four thirty, as he'd known he would all along, unable to resist the lure, David was behind his desk, the computer active, with Skype's blue page open on the screen.

Several emotions assaulted him, all vying for supremacy. He was aware, on some detached level, it could be a huge error, that what he was about to do could compromise everything he'd worked for and that his rising star could so easily fall to Earth as a fiery ball, burned out, gone, non-existent. It was there, in his head, the notion the monster he was about to unleash could turn and bite him on the arse, and for a few moments his finger hovered over the mouse, one click away from closing down the machine so he could leave his office and walk out of the building to the nearest pub.

David was so close, a tiny spark across the synapses away from the wise choice, doing the right thing -- for himself if not the apparently oblivious Mister Stone.

He considered the husband for a moment. Not only would David be encouraging another man's wife into infidelity, which this Skype thing most certainly was, what if the man was some raving martial arts nutter? It could not only be dodgy professionally, David might lose his career and reputation, but he might also get his arse kicked in the process.

Then, in his mind's eye he saw the woman as she'd been, sitting on the sofa, legs so tempting, the rounded inner flanks of her breasts just begging him to bury his face between them. He heard her narcotic voice, a siren's song in a throaty-husky drawl as she smirked at him, the twist to her mouth and her twinkling eyes a blatant challenge.

"Shit," he muttered, fingers working at the keyboard while he imagined Mrs Stone's hand, the jewelled troika of her rings glinting as she fisted his length. He thought of her naked with a young lover in some tiny apartment.

David was fully tumescent when Mrs Stone answered his call.

"Oh, hello, there you are," the woman breathed.

"Fuck," David muttered when he saw her on a huge bed. "Oh, fucking hell, Mrs Stone," he murmured, "you're naked."

Mrs Stone blurted a laugh. "Yes, yes I am, Mr Glanfield. I'm very naked." She laid there, on her side, weight on one elbow, head resting against a fist, her legs casually spread to expose her smooth vulva. "What did you expect, you silly boy?"

What had he expected? David wasn't sure, but seeing her there so nonchalantly exposing herself was a shocking surprise.

David stared, pawing at his cock while his eyes took in Mrs Stone's nudity. She was, in his opinion, absolutely devastating nude. The woman's provocative style of dressing for work was one thing, she certainly knew how to present herself to her best advantage, although David had assumed that beneath the carefully calculated brevity of her skirts and the tightness of her blouses there might be one or two flaws. But, now he was seeing her completely undraped, he realised he was guilty of a gross underestimation.

While Mrs Stone grinned at him, fingers splaying meaty labia, the shocking pink of her core glistening, David dimly registered the pale outline of the woman's bikini. He wondered briefly if it was the same bikini she'd mentioned during her recounting of her Kos escapade, thinking it had been no exaggeration on Mrs Stone's part when she'd said it was skimpy if it was. Mrs Stone in that insignificant two-piece must have drawn every male eye that encountered it. It was difficult to believe her husband could remain indifferent when she'd shown it off to him? The bloke must be crazy, David thought. If I had the chance to get across that body...

"So, tell me, Mr Glanfield," Mrs Stone murmured, wincing as she flicked the tip of a forefinger over the pronounced nub of her clit. "What do you think? Do you like me without any clothes on?"

"Mrs Stone," David sighed, flabbergasted. "You're..." His cheeks ballooned, disbelief at the sight coming out on one long exhalation. He massaged his crotch again, eyes on the computer monitor. "Oh, God," he moaned, desire twisting inside him. "I wish I was there with you."

The woman's eyes flashed and she smiled broadly, one hand going to a breast while she continued to flaunt her sex.

She held herself open to David's gaze and chuckled. "You naughty boy," she whispered. Mrs Stone squeezed tit-flesh. "You shouldn't say things like that to me." Then, with the breast cupped in her palm, the grin still fixed in place, she sighed, "But, what would you do if you were here, Mr Glanfield?"

Lust rose inside him, swelling his chest, his breath catching.

"What wouldn't I do, Mrs Stone," David replied, the words coming out half strangled.

"Ooh," the woman teased. "Are you getting a bit carried away there, Mr Glanfield? Are you getting hot and bothered seeing me all bare?"

She mauled herself again, wincing and wrinkling her nose at David. "Tell me, if you were here with me, right now," Mrs Stone pouted, "would you lick me down here?" She slid two fingers into her opening, head lolling back. "Would you, Mr Glanfield?" she gasped.

"Yes, Mrs Stone," David breathed in response.

"I suppose you'd want me to suck you, too?" One eyebrow arched higher than its carefully crafted twin. "I expect you'd like it if I wanked your dick?"

"Shit," David grimaced. "Yes, Mrs Stone. Yes please."

"What about fucking, Mr Glanfield? I suppose you'd want to fuck this pussy?" And to emphasise her point, Mrs Stone vigorously fucked two stiff fingers into her body for several seconds while David stared and whined.

"Mrs Stone," whimpered David, unable to restrain himself any longer. He leaned back in his chair and unzipped. "Could you do that with your left hand? I ... I'd love to see your wedding ring while you do it."

He thought he'd offended her with the request when Mrs Stone fell absolutely still, completely immobile with her fingers wedged inside her body.

She slowly withdrew the digits, her eyes narrow slits as she sat up with what appeared to be a disapproving stare.

"My wedding ring?" the woman murmured, head canted.

Her gaze warmed David's cheeks. "I-uh-I'm sorry," he mumbled, his cock in his fist, the hand frozen in place. "I didn't mean--"

"Does that get you horny, Mr Glanfield?"

She moved quickly, rising to kneel before dropping forward onto her hands and knees, heavy breasts swaying. "Is that something that gets you going? Me being married and exhibiting myself like this?" Her brow furrowed in puzzlement. She peered at David and asked, "Have you got your cock out, Mr Glanfield?"

Anxiety swirled in David's guts. "I'm sorry," he repeated, then paused. "I don't know what to do, Mrs Stone," he finally mumbled.

"No, no," Mr Glanfield." She was off the bed, advancing closer with her upper half filling the screen, breasts jiggling. "I don't mind. Don't apologise. I was going to ask if you'd wank in front of me." Mrs Stone smiled at him and added, "And if you want to see me being a dirty tart, if seeing my wedding ring gets you going..." She paused, smirking and nodding while she finished with, "Well, I think I can show you something that might please you."

There followed half a minute of nothing but the bed fixed in shot. Mrs Stone was out of sight, with David wondering what was going on, his hand idle on his cock.

She reappeared and smirked at him. "I'm back, darling," she teased. "Did you miss me?"

Then, for the next twenty minutes, while David stared transfixed, his hand cranking his erection, Mrs Stone gasped and grunted and muttered through at least two orgasms.

*

She lay on the bed and used a rubber cock to split her labia. Mrs Stone slid the thing between the tacky folds, rubbing vigorously and moaning before easing it into her body, the groans exaggerated to goad her audience into standing and masturbating.

"I can see all of that big thing," Mrs Stone informed David. You know, sweetheart," she added, "it would be lovely if you could take your suit off. Be nude for me Mr Glanfield. Go on, I dare you."

He didn't even think about it. David moved away from the desk, crossed the room in a rush, and locked the door. Then he stripped and presented himself naked, muttering a silent prayer of thanks that he'd been disciplined and kept up the gym visits.

"Yes," muttered the woman, approval obvious by the look on her face. "Very nice, Mr Glanfield. Very nice indeed. Now," she breathed, settling on the bed, legs opening, the dildo sliding into her body. "Let's have some fun."

Mrs Stone made a great show of using her left hand, grasping the dildo so David could see her rings as she fucked it into her opening, her hips moving up to meet each plunge.

While it was going on, as Mrs Stone used the length of moulded latex on her body, David wanked and watched the woman's face. At times she just smirked at him, knowing the effect she was having as she eased the thing in and out, teasing David with muttered obscenities about how good it felt. Other times she seemed lost in her own world, eyes glazed or even tightly closed, a hand mauling her breasts, the other corkscrewing the dildo round and round, Mrs Stone stirring her pussy until she gasped and grunted, yelping she was coming, the spasms rocking her.

She mumbled something about wishing David was there to fuck into her, the words coming out thick and clotted, Mrs Stone's climax rolling on.

"Fuck, Mrs Stone," David replied, stroking his length, his stare fixed on where the dildo hung from the woman's body, both her hands busy massaging her breasts, fingers teasing thick and elongated nipples. "I could fuck the arse off you."

He soaked up the image of her ungainly labia clinging to the shaft, fingers massaging breast-flesh and Mrs Stone's heavy-lidded stare of desire.

Yearning flared inside the man, a wanting so deep and urgent that, if Mrs Stone was in his office at that moment, David would have torn the clothes off her, stripped her naked and taken her across his desk, mindless to the risk, uncaring about his career if they should be discovered.

David's universe shrunk to the woman on the screen and the glorious tingle in his cock.

"I'd love to fuck you," he growled. "Shit, just look at you, Mrs Stone, you're so fucking sexy. What a show."

"Thank you," Mrs Stone returned, easing the glistening dildo out and sliding the shaft between slippery folds. "Your cock would be so much better than this," she breathed, whimpering when the ridges and bumps stimulated her tender clit. "A lovely big cock pulsing inside me would be so good," she purred. "So. Fucking. Good!" the woman continued with a snarl, each word punctuated by a deep thrust of latex, with Mrs Stone's face twisted into a grimace of exquisite agony, her lewd exhibitionism heightening her own arousal. "A real live cock fucking me ... That would be lovely. Just gorgeous. I'd let you at me bareback, Mr Glanfield. I'd want you to pump your seed into my pussy. Or," she continued, the smirk twisting her mouth while the dildo squelched in and out slowly, "you could come all over my hand. You could spunk on my wedding ring."

When she got there for the second time, with her eyes locked on David's face, her body juddering, thighs shivering nerveless, David let loose a great bellow, jizm spattering his over the keyboard.

"I wish that was on my wedding ring," Mrs Stone whined, her eyes wide as she watched the hot stuff pump out in a heavy outpouring, the man's pent-up desire obvious by the volume of semen gushing forth. "I'd let you come on my hand and then I'd lick it off, Mr Glanfield," she breathed, face slack with whatever carnal urges coursed through her.

"Fuck, Mrs Stone," David gurgled. "That would be ... It..."

"You know something," the woman said, sitting up again, the dildo rolling next to her on the bed. "I lied earlier. In your office..."

David, with spunk all over his desk, gloop oozing from his cock, gasped.

"What? What did you lie about?"

"My husband," she replied, corners of her mouth twitching.

A heavy cloak of unease settled over David.

"Wuh-what about him?"

"He's here now, Mr Glanfield. He's been watching me fuck myself ... He's been listening to everything."

David went cold, ice in his veins instantly extinguishing his ardour. He saw it all in his mind's eye, his brain snapping through myriad scenes of his downfall, his disgrace and subsequent ruin.

"No! Mrs Stone ... Shit."

But the woman just laughed and then turned her head to her left, grinning at someone apparently just out of view.

"Don't worry, Mr Glanfield," she said, nodding to something the unseen person had said. "He doesn't mind." Mrs Stone winked. "In fact ... If you like ... I'll tell you our address, you can come over and the pair of you can..."

She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head in enquiry.

"Well," Mrs Stone added, shrugging so her breasts swayed and jiggled, "I think you can figure it out." She waited a few seconds to let the offer sink in. "What do you think, Mr Glanfield?" she asked, hefting her breasts in her palms. "Would you like to come over and share me with my husband? I'll tug your dick with this hand." Mrs Stone waggled her fingers, showing off those rings. "I'd like it if you visited," she pouted. "I'll wait here for you..."

Mrs Stone paused and thrust her bosom forward before adding a near whispered, "...Naked."

David gaped at the screen for nearly a minute. "Naked?" he gulped eventually.

Mrs Stone nodded. "Nude," she said. "All bare. Just for you, Mr Glanfield, and my husband, of course."

David closed his eyes and shook his head in absolute disbelief. But, when he opened them again, she was still there, nude, an expectant expression on her face.

"What's the address?" he managed to groan.