One Week In October

As my eyes travelled around the room they were suddenly fixed on the thong I had been wearing last night, now abandoned on the floor beside the sofa, I smiled as I recalled the sight of Shaun with the sopping crotch covering his nose and mouth, I reached down and lifted them , they were still damp. I started to giggle at the thought of Paul licking Dons balls and finally I laughed out loud at the thought of the guys suddenly realising I was no longer in the room, I would loved to have seen their faces. My laughter surprised me , I had been safe in my misery, secure behind a wall of self loathing with no chance that my sins could bring me any further pleasures. I headed back to bed and within five minutes was again sound asleep.

At 7:00am the alarm warned me that I had 1hour and thirty minutes to be behind my desk at Drachman and Sadler advertising agency. A position I had held since leaving art school some ten years previously. I enjoyed my job but today I felt less inclined to jump up and start running on the endless treadmill that life in the city brought. Today I wanted fun or excitement or just different or maybe all three. For now I threw the duvet back over my head and lay down, ten minutes later the alarm warned me that I had had a further ten minutes snoozing and that I really ought to get up now. I suddenly felt disinclined to argue any further, after all his reasoning was probably significantly more logical than mine. I dragged my sorry carcass out of bed and wandered through for coffee. With a piping hot mug of Arabica in my hand I went and sat in the lounge and switched on the TV, the familiar GMTV faces burst on to the screen. I reached over and pulled breakfast from the packet and lit it, Inhaled deeply then started coughing uncontrollably. On finishing the coffee and breakfast I quickly showered, applied my face then dressed, I had pulled a navy blue two piece from the wardrobe, a fairly short skirt and a three quarter length jacket, matched it up with a white blouse and a sparkling marquisate rose which I pinned to my lapel, checking in the mirror I was satisfied that I was looking reasonably professional and business like for the days client meetings. I slipped on some shoes, my long Burberry rain coat, threw my hand bag over my shoulder and headed to work.

As I stepped out of the building the wind was again chilling and I pulled my coat tight around me, at the end of our cul-de-sac I turned left onto High Road and headed towards Wood Green tube station, as I passed The Nelson, a real ale pub Andy and I frequented, I wondered whether he was still enjoying his golf or had the guys broken the story. As I passed Dean's Laundromat I glanced in the huge plate glass window – no hunks peeling off their jeans today I thought but then there never was. Into the station I headed for the south bound platform and waited for the Heathrow Terminals tube due in three minutes according to the monitor. It was now 7:35am and the journey to Hammersmith took around 48 mins this left me 7 mins for the 20 minute walk from the station to our offices in Dane Street, late again I guess. As usual the platform was bustling, everyone trying to get to the front to ensure a seat. There was definitely and art in picking your spot, even if you were at the front you weren't guaranteed a seat unless the doors stopped directly in front of you. Normally I chose not to compete in the daily fiasco and resigned myself to standing for the whole journey. The train duly arrived and the lemmings poured onto the carriages, almost last on and I was left standing just inside the door, it was a good day since at least I could lean against the glass wall that separated the carriage sections and hold onto the upright pole that was integrated part of the separating wall , I hated when I had to reach up and hold onto to the handles dangling from the ceiling. We lurched out of the station at the sound of the guards whistle and begun trundling towards the first of twenty stations on the journey. I looked around at my fellow travellers, none seemed particularly pleased that it was Monday morning and that the day ahead my bring opportunities to rise another rung on the corporate ladder. I glanced down to my right through the glass in the wall where a middle aged, pin stripped, financial services type was peering through half moon glasses at a copy of FT, next to him a white Rastafarian student about twenty two, wearing wide weave heavy jacket obviously purchased in Oxfam's Fair-trade section, was trying to sleep. Directly to my left a couple stood facing each other and were clearly extending their early morning intimacies as they kissed and whispered and nibbled at to one another's ear. I watched them for a while and enjoyed the tenderness and affection they were showing to each other, I guessed it was a fairly new relationship. Her head was on his shoulder facing me and her straight, jet black hair shone even in the dim light of the carriage, it seemed unfair that all oriental women did not even have to try to excel in the hair department. Her eyes seemed disproportionately large for the size of her face and the liquid ebony irises were stark against the whites of her eyes , I became aware that she was returning my gaze when she smiled without lifting her head from his shoulder, devastatingly white and perfectly formed teeth sparkled at me and I smiled back, she held my gaze for longer than she should until eventually her partner interrupted and spoke in her ear. I forced my head to turn away and considered what I was feeling; she was a very beautiful young woman. I couldn't say exactly what age she was, another advantage that I thought oriental women have , they seem not to age from twelve years old until around thirty five, the down side of course is that on their thirty fifth birthday they instantly aged twenty two years to make up – or so I hoped.

We pulled into Turnpike Lane station and as usual no-one disembarked, the train was almost full and people were running up and down the platform looking for spaces in any of the carriages, two or three tried to board at our door and the couple next to me were forced to squeeze over towards me, my shoulder was now pushed hard against his and my face no more than six inches from hers. Damn it! I was definitely attracted to this woman, I wanted to feel her smooth skin against mine, I wanted her lips caressing my face, I wanted her pleasure to be mine. I stared straight ahead of me at the sea of faces, it seemed to me that every race, creed and colour in the entire world was represented somewhere in this carriage. Unlike Andy I welcomed the diversity in our society, it seems to me that if Darwin's theory holds any water then our best chance for long term survival is to access the global gene pool, any lineage that becomes too incestuous will become useless: take the chiwawa for instance. My thoughts were interrupted as I caught some movement to my left out of the corner of my eye, I turned my head to see the oriental woman lift her left hand and place it on her partners shoulder, I watched as she positioned it in order that the heel of her hand was touching me. I glanced up at her face and she smiled, as if held by some invisible beam being transmitted from her forehead, I could not move. My eyes shifted from her beautiful eyes to her full lips and shinning teeth and aback again, I became aware that her hand was slowly, very slowly, moving onto my shoulder, so slowly that the movement would be imperceptible to anyone watching. Her eyes held me and dared me to object, she slowly raised her eyebrows asking me the question – I smiled.

The train started to slow down as we pulled into Manor House station. As the doors opened onto the platform the jostling started up again as desperate commuters tried to force their way on board, as the oriental woman took a step to her right and now stood directly in front of me, her left hand brushed over my breasts and came to rest on my waist, with her right hand she reached up and grasped one of the plastic handles dangling from the aluminium rail attached to the roof of the carriage. Her partner was forced to move behind me and the contour of the carriage forced him to bend slightly to fit neatly between me and the external wall of the train. I looked into her eyes as she pressed her body into mine. The contours of her body slotted neatly as a jigsaw into mine, as she rested her head on my right shoulder I could feel her warm breath on my neck. Her partner was now unavoidably pressed against my back and could hardly move, she stared into my eyes as her hand travelled from my waist down and inside my raincoat, even if I had considered it I was unable to resist. As her fingers made the first electrifying contact with my naked thigh a shiver ran the full length of my spine and my legs quivered, with her finger tips she traced a line up the inside of my thigh until she was almost touching my pussy, she stopped and gently clasped my thigh with her whole hand. I could feel my labia begin to swell and my pussy start to bubble, for agonising minutes she simply held me. The motion of the train made my hips sway back and forth and I could feel her partner's body behind me. Without warning my knees bent involuntarily desperately trying to bring my pussy into contact with her hand – she smiled and a few moments later her finger nails racked over my pussy through my now wet panties, I gasped aloud and slouched forward forcing her to lean hard against me to hold me upright. My now erect nipples were being teased intolerably as they rubbed against her breasts. The train slowed once more as we approached Finsbury Park, as the commuters on the platform exchanged places with some of the passengers on board, none of the three of us made any attempt to move or make space. As we pulled out of the station she leaned over my shoulder and whispered to her partner, moments later I felt his hand inside my raincoat which was split to the waist at the back, he slowly made his way to the waistline of my panties and lowered them to just above my knees, I wriggled slightly and they fell to the floor. A voice in my ear told me to step out of them and as I looked down they were swiped away behind me, almost immediately I felt the palm of her hand cup my pussy and one finger slide easily inside me. For agonising minutes there was no movement as my pussy juice flowed into her hand, then slowly her finger moved in a circular motion tracking around the walls of my pussy and a second finger was inserted. After only a few moments she withdrew and reached down and used her moist fingers to tease and probe gently at my ass. Instinctively I pushed against her fingers and both slid in, slowly she pushed until I could feel her knuckles at the opening and she began to rotate her fingers. After only a few moments she once again withdrew and her fingers traced their way up the length of my pussy to find my clitty, by this time I was close to the edge and desperately wanted relief. A single finger tip rolled gently back and forth over my clitty , just too slowly and too lightly to ignite my orgasm, at this my whole abdomen turned to a warm gooey swirling mess as I teetered over the edge but not quite able to launch my self off into oblivion.

"Tell Marcos to fuck your ass " she whispered

I turned my head to the side as Marcos brought his ear close to my lips and I did as I was instructed. I felt movement behind me and his overcoat appeared at either side of my hips, obviously trying to obscure his activities. I had expected to feel his hand inside my raincoat but was surprised when the head of his rock hard dick nudged at my moist ass, gently I leaned back and he breached my sphincter. The initial pain dissipated into a warm full sensation. The tip of her finger was now exerting more pressure on my clit but was now no longer moving, the increased pressure enhanced my arousal but still was not sufficient to allow release. Gradually Marcos pushed his dick as far up my ass as he could go, I felt his rough pubic hair scratching at my stretched opening, he started to rock back and forth with the motion of the train, dipping his cock in and out of my ass. I have no idea how long this lasted as I was now totally focused on my own orgasm.

"Nina" Marcos said out loud.

With that he thrust deep and froze, I felt his dick swell inside me and the first spasm of the onset of his goal, Nina reacted quickly and started rubbing hard on my clitty, within five seconds my pussy exploded and shot bolts of electricity through my body and into my brain, as my eyes rolled in my head, my head flopped back and my legs gave out, the only thing supporting me was Marcos's dick up my ass. When I recovered Nina's hand was gone as had Marcos's dick – I felt empty and exhausted.

The tube was slowing once more and I was shocked to see Leicester Square platform – I had completely missed seven stations including Kings Cross. I suddenly became very conscious of the other people in the carriage and glanced down to my right at Mr Half-moon-glasses and realised by the expression on his face that heknew! His mouth hung slightly open and he peered directly at me over the top of his glasses, I smiled – it seemed to snap him out of his trance and he smiled back. I glanced down at Nina whose gleaming smile had grown to consume her whole face

"My turn tomorrow" she said "same train"

I nodded and at that the carriage doors opened and Marcos and Nina disappeared into the crowd, our White Rastafarian also disembarked leaving a seat next to Mr Half-moon-glasses into which I quickly collapsed. As I sat down I could feel the contents of Marcos's balls start to seep from my ass, damn – no knickers

"You don't happen to have any tissues do you " I asked Mr Half-moon-glasses

He jumped, startled, as if surprised that I could speak and was forced to look at me, he mumbled something incoherent and started frisking himself for evidence of the tissues he knew he had. Eventually from his coat pocket he pulled an unopened packet of Handy-Andes and offered them to me, he watched intently as I opened the packet pulled out a handkerchief, lifted my buttocks slightly off the seat and pushed the hanky under my ass. As I sat down I turned and said with a smile

"Enjoy the show?"

"I... er .... eh .... I "

"By the look of that bulge – I would say you did" I teased

He looked down as the bulge in his trousers was threatening to break free and immediately thrust his newspaper into a crumpled ball on his lap. He blushed.

"I don't reckon you will be able to concentrate on anything much today! " I laughed

For a while I sat recovering from my newest experience and relaxed. The carriage had started to empty, and by the time we left Green Park the section in front of us had completely emptied and only a few long distance travellers headed for Heathrow were spread out behind us.

"I ... eh .... I think you are right" said Mr Half-Moon lifting his newspaper and staring into his lap.

"Never mind" I sniggered " Mrs Half-Moon will take care of that when you get home.

As he lifted his head and looked out of the window he sighed the kind of sigh that a teenager would make when the CD his Gran promised him for birthday turned out to be Val Doonegan and not Van Halen as requested. He suddenly looked like a sad little man with a sad little life. Damn it I thought.

"Unless of course I can help"

It was Van Halen after all – his eyes danced and his smile broadened to a place it hadn't been in a long time. I looked round the carriage to check we could not easily be overseen and lifted my hand into his lap. He stared at my hand as I unzipped him and slipped my hands inside his trousers, moments later I had fished out a reasonable sized hardon and wrapped my fist around it. His eyes furtively glanced around the carriage obviously wary of being discovered. As I started to move my fist up and down his shaft his stare returned to my hand, he watched intently as I pumped his dick faster and faster. Soon there was a trickle of sticky clear fluid running from the end of his cock and as if to warn me of his imminent ejaculation he looked into my eyes, I smiled, the first short spurt of semen arced onto the floor at his feet, his eyes rolled around in their sockets and he held his breath deep in his lungs for fear of alerting everyone in the carriage to his moment of joy. Thirty seconds later it was all over and I was handing him back his handkerchiefs. Just then we pulled into Hammersmith and I kissed him on the cheek and jumped down onto the platform, as I looked back I saw he was staring out at me with that huge smile on his face again and he mouthed the words 'Thank You.' I smiled and disappeared up the stairwell towards the surface.

Part IX Sadler's been naughty (MF,smacking)

"Seventeen minutes late Ms Holden" chastised Sadler as he looked at his watch

I grinned and made some pathetic excuse about the tube delays. I guess as a bosses go Benjamin Sadler was OK – typical public school and silver spoon type who had never wanted for anything in his life. A very austere and foreboding veneer meant that he had little or no need for middle class social etiquette, of which he had no knowledge anyway. Being brought up on a 200 acre country estate in Hertfordshire, sent to Harrow then on to Eaton does not lend itself to easy integration with the proletariat. That said at 63 he was undoubtedly still a very talented man and continues to win industry awards for his designs and as a founding partner he has to be at least partially credited with building a £5 million per annum business. A stalwart for punctuality I new my recent tardiness would not go unpunished.

"My office twelve noon sharp Ms Holden" he barked

Oh well, another lecture on the merits of good time-keeping, shows "strength of character" apparently. As I walked through reception Sharon on the front desk handed me a pile of yellow post-it notes with details of calls received that morning, a quick flick through showed nothing of major import had been missed. I took my seat in the open plan office and said good morning to our newest recruit Emma. At sixteen and six months into her employment, Emma showed zero promise of fulfilling any function any of us in the office could think of, however, it seems the company was being paid under some government scheme to find employment for school leavers from deprived backgrounds – essentially it looked like we were stuck with her for a further eighteen months. Fourteen of us were seated in the main office area, a mixture of drawing boards, desks and computer workstations. At either end of the open plan area there were four offices where the hierarchy hid behind louvre blinds masking off the glass walls, the two senior partners and two junior partners at the furthest away end and four so called middle management at the west end of the building.

I sat down at my chic Perspex desk and switched on my computer, checked my inbox for new mail and set off for the coffee machine. A corridor ran down the front of the building parallel to the reception that led to the staff restrooms, in the corridor next to the photocopier a gaggle of caffeine junkies huddled around the local supplier. I joined my fellow addicts and bought a 20p hit, I acknowledged the greetings from colleagues and scuttled back to my desk to enjoy my score in private.

As I sipped my stimulant my eyes wandered around the room, the workstations were set out in two concentric squares – ten on the outer square and four for the most junior staff in the centre. Our second government assisted position was filled by Daniel who seemed to spend most of his day drooling over Emma, sat side on directly in front of me. Overall there was a fair cross-section of gender, race, age and size. Draining the last drops from my paper cup I set about the days tasks, I cleared the various calls and answered the twenty or so emails which had built up over the morning. Around eleven o'clock my electronic diary reminded me I had a client presentation that afternoon at 2:00pm, deciding to go over the designs to be presented I pushed back my chair and headed for the A1 filing cabinets. As I stood, I noticed there was a higher level than usual of giggling emanating from Emma and Daniel, I looked up to see both of them smiling at me and conspiratorially whispering to each other, for the time being I thought no more of it. Back at my desk with the appropriate designs the giggling started up once again, this time as I looked up I noticed they were both staring at my crotch, my knees were slightly apart and given I had a short skirt on they were obviously tickled by my white panties. In an effort to embarrass them both and draw their attention to the fact that I was aware of their antics, I spread my legs further apart. I was surprised not to get an immediate reaction and a guilty look from them both, instead Daniels jaw almost hit the floor and Emma made a stereotypical wide eyed round mouthed surprised look. Christ I had forgotten, Marcos had run off with my panties on the train, I resisted the strong temptation to snap my legs closed and die of embarrassment. Neither had looked up at me by this time so they were unaware I had caught them, I quickly looked down into my designs and ignored the situation as I slowly closed my legs and hid my pussy from their fixed gazes. For the remainder of the morning I reviewed the presentation and prepared copies of the documentation for the client to take away.