Proposal

byshug©

Tracy had been working with Malcolm for days to get her playground safety proposal for Hartley Park put together just right. She wanted everything to be flawless. This morning she was so nervous she hadn't even been able to eat breakfast. She arrived at the office early, picked up her mail and headed straight for the kitchen, hoping that some chamomile tea would calm her nerves.

She was halfway through her tea and her mail when she got to the package from Malcolm. "Re: Proposal" it said on the interoffice address form. Inside was a pair of black lace panties, a tiny, oddly shaped soft plastic object, and a note.

"We've been working on this project all week, Tracy, and haven't even fucked once! I know you're anxious, but damn. That ain't healthy.

Don't worry about the presentation, you've got it in the bag. In fact, to take your mind off your worries, I propose a little challenge.

The plug fits into the pocket in the crotch of the panties. Put them on and wear them to the proposal meeting. Of course, you'll have to be very careful not to "show" what you're wearing… but if you can do it, I promise it'll keep your mind off your nerves. And after the meeting, we can celebrate our successful proposal with what I've been waiting for all week.

I dare you."


The first smile of Tracy's day crossed her face. Malcolm was an excellent designer and a brilliant engineer, whose talent was matched only by his sense of humor and keen competitive edge. They'd spurred each other on all week with good-hearted challenges and confrontations. "I bet you can't finish that blueprint analysis by lunchtime" was met with "If I do, you're buying lunch." This playful sort of bartering along with Tracy's first-assignment determination had sped them through the project with amiable speed. They'd been working nonstop, with no sexual concession to the electricity that existed between them. Perhaps a challenge during the presentation would be fun. And Malcolm was right: the very idea had already taken her mind off her worry.

She remembered the incredible fucking Malcolm had given her during her Interview, the span of his hands at her waist, the depth of their kiss, the wonderful feeling of fullness his dick gave her, his strength as he impaled her on his cock. Going through the meeting anticipating another fuck of that caliber would be a luscious good time rather than a harrowing experience. She was touched by Malcolm's thoughtfulness.

In the bathroom, Tracy turned the smooth piece of plastic over. There was a wide, flat base that slid into the little pocket, and a flexible protrusion, about finger-size, that slid comfortably into her when she pulled the panties on. Walking around experimentally, Tracy felt the little plug shift inside her. Its size was not intrusive; it was just enough to remind her that it was there. It provided a subtle motion while she walked, and even after she returned to her desk and sat down, its presence was a pleasant tease of pressure.

The office was beginning to awaken for the day and Tracy was in a much better mood than she'd been when she arrived. She called good morning to her colleagues as they passed by her office door, dropped her regular panties into a side pocket of her briefcase and, for the first time all week, began to relax. Just then, Malcolm stuck his smoothly shaven head into her office, flanked by two or three people Tracy didn't recognize.

"Good morning, Tracy," he said. "Did you get my package?"

"Sure did," she replied. "Let's meet to talk about it after the meeting."

Malcolm's eyes twinkled but his voice registered little. "Sounds great. I'd like you to meet Michael Thwaite, Alexis Moon, and Patrick Finnegan, they're from the City Parks Department. I'm going to get them some coffee and then how about we'll meet you in Calvin's conference room?"

Tracy smiled cheerfully. She was looking forward to this.

++++++++++++

Malcolm sat closest to Tracy, watching her movements with an open, patient expression. The three city officials sat along the sides of the table, pencils in hand, yellow pads at the ready. Tracy's supervisor Calvin watched from the end of the table near the door, assessment in his eyes as Tracy paced before a large schematic drawing of the park's current layout. She probably didn't need to pace to make her point, but the minute shifting of the little plug inside her felt delicious, and helped her remain distracted from the magnitude of the occasion. She opened her introduction with a smile.

"As we all know, there have been five serious injuries in Hartley Park over the past thirty-month period. We here at Hobbes and Flush are pleased to be chosen to implement the city's dedication to making this playground a safe place to play."

Tracy's mind smirked at the carefully crafted diplomacy of her words. It had taken two years of public pressure from the neighborhood association to shame the city government into attempting to do anything about the perilous old park. If the press hadn't gotten involved, kids from the surrounding projects might still be breaking their arms and legs with no city response at all.

Bad politics aside, the project was recognized as noble civic work, and was a publicity coup for H&F's Community Division. But negotiating the bureaucratic chain of command had proved to be almost as challenging as getting the account in the first place. There were so many tiers of approval, so many city agencies that had to be involved, that the whole thing had become an administrative headache. Tracy's audience today represented the Public Housing Authority, the City Building Commission, and the mayor's office, and had final approval on the park renovation plans. She laid it on sweetly for their benefit, sharing the proposed changes of which she was so proud.

"Our proposal involves the standard safety measures: rubberizing the play surfaces, replacing the more rickety equipment. But we also have a few more complex ideas that we hope will further ensure that the children of Hanson Houses and surrounding environs have a safe place to play."

Suddenly, the flat portion of Tracy's little plug began to vibrate within her panties. Her clit jolted to attention in the face of the silent quivering pressure and she whipped her head to face Malcolm, eyes burning into his with a wordless question. Malcolm raised one eyebrow in challenge. The slightest hint of a smile played around the corners of his succulent mouth.

Shit! She couldn't believe he'd taken it this far. Shards of pleasure stabbed outward from Tracy's center. She bit her lip as the plastic insert's insistent trembling seemed to intensify. With a superhuman exertion of self-control, she stopped her pacing, turned toward the display board, and adjusted it to reflect the proposal drawings and mockups she and Malcolm had prepared. Mercifully, the vibration stilled while her back was turned. With a tremulous sigh, Tracy went on with her pitch.

"The injuries sustained by the children in the past few years happened in two main play areas: the carousel and the climbing structure." She was apprehensive now, knowing that at any point Malcolm could resume the unbearable vibrating force. With pronounced authority, she pointed out the former playground's 'danger area' and made eye contact with a couple of the officials, who were making notes on their pads or watching expectantly. Going on, she described the intended changes to the playground's layout: a larger sand-play and fountain area in the center of the playground, a replacement of some of the more accident-prone play structures, and a reorganization of the remaining areas. The city planners nodded to themselves, their actions a pantomime of silent approval.

Feeling momentarily triumphant, Tracy dared to look briefly at Malcolm, and immediately the finger inside her began to curve and rotate, twisting in her pussy with undulating waves. She fought to keep the expression on her face from betraying her shock, but the sharp pleasure made it impossible to keep her posture from changing. Slowly, she turned her head to the board and tried to remember what she'd just said.

The plastic prong was twisting and wriggling inside her. Around its slim length, her walls undulated wildly, seeping moisture and sending waves of delight through her. Tracy felt such weakness in her thighs that she decided it was time to turn the presentation over to her partner. Somehow, she managed her transition without revealing her sensuous secret. The visiting city officials applauded her as she took her seat. For once, with her hidden pleasure gone undetected, Tracy truly felt she deserved the in-meeting acclaim.

Malcolm took over the second half of the presentation as if nothing was happening, describing the technical, financial, and construction aspects of the changes he and Tracy were proposing. He gestured expansively, described structures with his hands and flipped the display from one illustration to the next. With this range of activity, it seemed insignificant that one of Malcolm's hands periodically wound up in his jacket pocket. No one but Tracy had any idea why.

She was in her seat watching the presentation with absent attention, doodling and taking intermittent notes with a pencil and pad. But below the surface of the conference table, her body was in a frenzy. Numberless times, with no pattern or warning, Malcolm renewed his electronic attacks, silently teasing Tracy's pussy with the vibrating insert. Below the waist, she was writhing with frustrated arousal and trying to maximize her satisfaction. At the same time, she fought to maintain perfect composure above the table.

First, she arched her back minutely and spread her thighs on the plush conference chair, trying to anchor herself and keep from giving in to the jolts of desire that shot through her. Just when she felt secure in her position, Malcolm triggered a soft palpitation of the flat bit that pressed against her clit. It caressed her relentlessly until it felt like a flood of juice was welling up inside her.

Tracy pressed her thighs together to try and control the moisture, crossing her legs tightly with her posture casual and her expression unaffected. Why did she do that? Immediately she felt a swelling tremor inside as her thighs pressed her pussy lips together. She rolled her hips in a diminutive arc but could feel her creamy flow leaking into her panties no matter how tightly she crossed her legs.

Malcolm finally concluded his technical report. "Any questions?" he asked, laying down his pointer and casually placing his hands in his pockets. Tracy's insert began a circular thrusting motion in addition to the pad's pulsation at her clit. She didn't know how much more of this onslaught she could take without breaking into orgasmic screams at the conference table.

Thankfully, the officials seemed not only satisfied, but impressed and enthusiastic about starting on the renovation project. After a smattering of appreciative applause, Calvin offered to take the city reps to lunch to discuss implementation plans.

Tracy rose to her feet and moved toward the door, shaking hands all around, smiling, nodding, and accepting polite compliments on the proposal, while Malcolm hung around the display area, packing up the presentation materials and waving intermittently at the retreating bureaucrats. She was delighted the talk had gone over well, but her sense of relief was diluted by the fluttering and squirming little prong, stirring her to a fierceness of passion she was prohibited to express.

After the room emptied, Tracy closed the conference room door and locked it. The vibrating stopped, and the squirming extension inside her took on an intermittent pulsing pattern. Malcolm crossed the room towards her, raucous laughter on his lips and a little remote control on the center of his palm. Tracy leaned against the door and plunged her hands into her panties, pushing them aside and fingering her inflamed pussy.

"You suck, Malcolm," she said, traces of desperation in her voice. "Why didn't you tell me it moved?" It had been an excellent joke and an incredibly sexy experience… but Tracy didn't have to admit it yet. She glared at Malcolm, shaking her head in mock anger until the broadly built designer scooped her up and deposited her on the conference table.

"It wouldn't have been as much fun," Malcolm quipped, pulling the tormenting panties away and filling his laughing mouth with her honey. Tracy's giggles soon turned to moans. She let the accumulated tension of the week's worry and the morning's titillation float out of her on the velvet hum of Malcolm's tongue. After the mechanical onslaught of the meeting, his warm slurping felt like a benediction. She lay back on the table and gave herself over to the punch line of his little practical joke.

Tracy's legs relaxed and spread wider under Malcolm's heavy hands, which were busy stroking and kneading her thighs, her calves, even pushing off her pumps and rubbing down her feet. She unbuttoned her blouse and he followed her hint with biting kisses up her stomach and breasts. Tracy loved her co-worker's full-body fucking but had already endured more than an hour of involuntary foreplay. She fumbled with Malcolm's belt and zipper and grasped his dick, triumphant to find it already hard. She ran her hands inside his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders, using clawing fingers and tugging bites to guide his cock toward her juiciest wetness ever.

Malcolm slid into Tracy with a steady weight, inching painfully slow into her waiting pussy. She strained, pushing towards him, striving to feel the fullness of him pressing warm inside her. "Uh-uh-uh," he chided, gripping her waist with his hands and holding her motionless at the very edge of the table. Her pussy pulsed around the very tip of him and she squirmed ineffectively as his hands ran down the sides of her hips. He dug his fingers into the flesh of her upper thighs and held them apart, high and wide, pushing just the first few inches of his dick in and out of her.

Tracy couldn't believe he was still teasing! Her hips began bucking on their own, pushing forward, almost bouncing off the table altogether. Little by little, more of Malcolm's cock was opening the folds of her and pressing inside, until with one pull he drew out, paused, and drove into her depths to the hilt of his cock. Immediately, Tracy locked her legs around Malcolm's hips and wound her arms tightly around his neck. "I need you to fuck me," she hissed into his ear, while playing her manicured nails softly around the rim of his ear. "I've had enough of this damn joke."

Malcolm answered her by slamming his hips against hers. Blinding heat rose in the friction between them as they ground against each other fiercely. Tracy's hours of helpless arousal fueled her to fuck with total abandon. She bit into the side of Malcolm's neck, found his mouth and tugged open his sculpted lips with her teeth. Their tongues twisted around each other as the plunging continued, both designers releasing a long week's anxiety into each other.

With no warning, Malcolm lifted Tracy from the table, grasping her ass in his hands and pulling her against him. He withdrew from her, leaving her legs shaking with the loss. Almost faster than she could realize, he had her bent over the conference table and slid into her from behind. He picked up the frenetic pace, pushing into her with one hand at her back and the other holding onto her bun.

As her eyes focused, Tracy realized the little vibrator and remote were on the table in front of her. Always imaginative, she reached out and picked the little gadgets up. "Who's got the last laugh now," she thought as she pressed the smooth piece of plastic against her clit, the now familiar undulating vibration sending new rushes of joy through her center.

"I'm coming," she hissed, then whispered over her shoulder, then spoke out loud in a husky near-grunt. She'd been waiting for this release all morning… and it was volcanic when it arrived. He kept her filled the whole time, flexing lightly inside her as she ground out each wave of pleasure on his shaft.

As the strength of her climax wracked her body, Malcolm pushed her skirt up high on her back and released his own pleasure onto her lower back and behind. For a moment, he lay soft against her, then slowly fumbled his hand onto the table over hers and flicked off the control for the little vibrating plug. With his other hand he pulled a soft tissue from a pocket and gently wiped her up. This gentle consideration after the morning's cruel teasing made Tracy laugh out loud. She got up smiling, on shaky legs.


"Today's busy executive is always prepared," she quipped.

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