Pleasing Ms Lewis

He began to shaft himself, his eyes roving hungrily over her pert little breasts and nipples, her fabulous well toned thighs, her hairy bush and moist, protruding lips. he gazed too at the small part of her dress that was still buttoned around her waist, like a curtain tie with her upper and lower dress swept open.

"I DO hope you aren't going to be long, by the way," she chided.

He shafted himself harder and faster. She looked at her watch and tutted again. Annoyance and arousal drove him closer to his own climax, and he gritted his teeth. He made no attempt to stifle his shallow gasps as he came into his handkerchief and wiped himself as thoroughly and obviously as he could. He knew that deep down, although she was not looking, she delighted in the lewdness of his masturbating and the need for him to clean himself.

"You're done now, are you?" she enquired. She gave the impression of sounding relieved that an unwelcome interruption in her routine had ended. Still her eyes were averted from him and were fixed on her magazine before her smoke-veiled face.

"Ye-yes. Miss."

"Don't get any on the bloody carpet. Just put your dick away and finish cleaning yourself up in the toilet or somewhere. Get out now – I've a meeting to prepare for. I'll be in touch next month – and don't be bloody late next time. Oh, and make sure you shut the door properly on your way out."

He hurriedly sorted himself out and headed for the door.

"Bye, Ms. Lewis."

She refrained from answering, maintaining her ice-maiden coolness to the very end. But he knew that when he looked at his e-mails there might be one from her. If so it would be discreet, because it would be going through the workplace intranet. But it would express her gratitude for his "assistance" and be signed off "kind and grateful regards, Ms. L."

He would just have to remember for the next three quarters of an hour or so not to wipe or blow his nose with his handkerchief.