tagNonConsent/ReluctanceTracy and the Intern

Tracy and the Intern

byPogueMahone©

Tracy Rush cursed. She could hear the movie playing in the living room and longed to push her work aside and join her family as they gathered around the television. They'd rented several movies and planned to spend the entire day watching them, what better way to spend a snowy Chicago Saturday. Normally she would be out there with them, curled up on the couch next to her husband, enjoying the closeness of her family as they blissfully wasted the day. She would be out there today if the Parme account hadn't come in at the last minute Friday night. She had been presented with two options, spend most of the evening at work and miss the romantic dinner she'd planned with John or bring the files home to finish the work over the weekend. She'd opted for the latter, not wanting to miss another dinner with her husband, sacrificing her weekend to complete her work. She'd been working for about half an hour when she realized she'd forgotten the key spreadsheet at work, bringing everything to a sudden and complete halt. Cursing her own forgetfulness once more, Tracy pondered what she should do.

"Steve!" She exclaimed after a few seconds thought, reaching for the phone and dialing a phone number from the company directory. Steve Richards was a young assistant that worked in her office, a polite young man who always seemed eager to do anything she asked. Luckily for her, he lived close to the office and he wouldn't mind running the files she needed over to her. "Steve?" She spoke into the phone, "Hi, it's Tracy Rush from work. Yeah, sorry to bother you on your day off but... I have a favor to ask. I'm working at home and forgot the Parme spreadsheet. You will? That's great! Thank you so much. You're a lifesaver, Steve. I owe you one," Tracy told her co-worker before hanging up the phone and returning her attention to the laptop in front of her. She was quickly absorbed in her work, not even noticing when the doorbell rang a short half an hour later.

"Hello, Mr. Rush?" Steve Richards asked the man who answered the door, smiling warmly and extending his hand. "I'm Steve Richards; Tracy called and asked me to bring over some documents from work.

"Oh, please come in," John Rush said, opening the door wider for the young black man, motioning him into the house. "Tracy is back in the office," He explained, pointing towards the back of the house. "So have you been with the company long?" He asked politely, trying to make conversation as he led his wife's colleague through the house.

"No, only a couple of months," Steve replied politely, "I've just graduated and took this internship until I can find something else."

"I see," John replied, knocking softly on the doorframe that led into office. "Tracy, Steve's here to see you."

"What? Oh, Hi Steve," Tracy responded, glancing up from the computer screen, having been so absorbed in her work that she hadn't even heard them approach. "Thanks honey," She smiled at John as he waved to Steve, leaving the two of them alone. "I'm sorry to bother you on your day off, Steve, but I can't thank you enough for running over here."

"It's no problem, Mrs. Rush," Steve assured the attractive wife and mother, his eyes running over her slender body, admiring the shape of her bare legs under the hem of her short dress. "I really don't mind at all."

"Well," Tracy replied, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the way Steve was looking at her, "I still owe you one for this."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find a way to repay me," Steve smiled as he moved across the small room, handing her the data she needed.

"Lunch? How about I buy you lunch on Monday?" Tracy offered, wondering why she was suddenly so uncomfortable with having her younger colleague standing so close to her.

"I was thinking of a more... personal method of repayment," Steve told her, leaning over her chair, his hand idly caressing the side of her neck.

"What? What do you mean, Steve?" Tracy asked, turning to look at the young black man with wide confused eyes, shying away from his caressing hand. "I don't understand..." She said, trying to move her chair away from him, his hand on the armrest stopping her.

"Oh, I think you do, Mrs. Rush," Steve assured her softly, his hand sliding down off the armrest, his large fingers gripping her bare knee. "I know those files are going to help you keep a very large, very important, client so I think you should repay my kindness with something of equal importance to you."

"Steve, please... please stop," Tracy asked, almost pleading, as she tried to move her knee from under his fingers. "I think... I think you should leave now."

"Fuck that," Steve hissed, his hand sliding up her thigh as she vainly tried to avoid his groping fingers. "If you don't do as I wish, Tracy, I will leave and take the files with me. Then Monday morning, you can explain how you lost the Parme account." He warned, his fingers caressing the bare flesh of her leg as he leaned over her.

"Stop," Tracy insisted, her hand gripping his wrist, trying vainly to push his hand away. "Stop it, Steve. Just leave and... and I won't tell anyone," She tried to bargain, the thought of losing the Parme account sending a shiver of apprehension through her. "I'll still buy you lunch."

"I don't want lunch, Mrs. Rush," the young man insisted, seeing the fear in her eyes as his hand moved further up her thigh, pushing the skirt of her light dress up until most of her legs were exposed. "I want you. And I'm going to get what I want," He assured her, his voice a soft whisper as he leaned closer so that his lips were brushing against her ear as he spoke. "You want it just as badly, don't you, Tracy?" He whispered, his fingers massaging the soft flesh of her thigh. "That's why you are always asking me for favors, for my help in your office. You've been flirting with me for a long time now," Steve insisted, "and I think it's time you followed through on your flirtations."

"No," Tracy pleaded, shaking her head slightly, her cheeks flushed from the feeling of his hot breath on the side of her neck. "I haven't... I was not flirting with you. I like you, like you as a co-worker, nothing more. Please, if you leave now, I promise I won't tell anyone about... about this," She almost sobbed as his hand slowly moved higher, pushing her dress up until it was bunched around her hips, barely covering her panties.

"I'm not leaving until I get what I came for," Steve assured the trembling wife and mother, his large hand lightly caressing her soft skin as she sat frozen in front of him. "I am curious as to what color panties you've got on today," He confided to her softly, his fingers playing along the edge of her skirt, "I'm currently leading the office pool in most correct guesses as to what color panties you wear every day."

"What?!" Tracy protested her eyes large in shock as she stared at her co-worker. "My panties, an office pool?" She gasped, not believing what she was hearing about the people in her office, her cheeks burning in embarrassment as she thought about people betting on her underwear choices. "How could you?" She asked, her eyes glancing towards the door, making sure it was closed, afraid that her family would hear of her coworkers humiliating betting. "If John finds out, he will kill you for sure." She warned.

"He never will," Steve assured her, enjoying the sight of her discomfort, the shame that was written plainly across her attractive face. "I'm guessing you've got the blue ones on today," He confided to her with a small laugh, his fingers slowly lifting the edge of her dress to expose the briefest glimpse of her panties.

"How? How did you know?" Tracy asked, her voice trembling as she realizes he has guessed correctly, a wave of humiliation running through her as she watches him slowly lift her dress up to reveal more of her panties.

"You wore the white ones yesterday and the light green ones on Thursday," Steve informed her, his eyes running over the soft fabric of her panties, "and you usually follow a pattern. It is either blue, white, green or green, white, blue. It is how I have won the pool so many times. Although I really like this pair, low rise, very sexy in a conservative way," He laughed, his thumb running along the waistband of her panties.

"When? How did you learn so much?" She asked, her voice breaking into sobs of humiliation, the thought of all her coworkers betting on her panties filling her with shame. "Don't you know I'm happily married? How could you all do this to me?"

"I peeked up your skirt, Tracy. There is a spot on the first floor stairs, in the corner by the fire extinguisher, that if you stand at the right angle you can see the panties of every woman wearing a skirt. Once we started betting I just made sure to be in that spot everyday when you arrived at work," He confided, his fingers lightly tracing across the front of her panties as he felt her trembling in shame at his words. "And as for you being married, Mrs. Rush," He replied, his fingers becoming more insistent on her panties, "so what? It's not like I'm asking you to run away with me," He laughed, his fingers slowly moving over the mound of her sex. "Besides I like the idea of fucking another man's wife while he's in the next room."

"You can't," Tracy stammered, feeling a warm rush spreading out from beneath his fingers, spreading through her as she slowly became aroused. "You can't be serious," She finally managed to protest, hating the sudden wetness she felt as his fingers traced over the cleft of her sex, caressing her through the thin fabric of her panties. "My family, my kids are in the next room."

"Then you'll just have to be very quiet, Tracy," Steve warned with a dry chuckle as his fingers continued to rub her sex, smiling as he felt the moist heat of her arousal begin. "Unless you don't mind having them know that you're fucking your coworker."

"Please Steve," Tracy pleaded, her hand still futilely trying to push his hand away, to remove his groping teasing fingers away from the growing wetness of her sex. "Stop. If you stop now, I won't... I won't tell anyone. Just leave."

"If I leave now, Mrs. Rush, the Parme files go with me and Monday morning you'll be trying to explain how you managed to lose one of our biggest accounts," Steve assured her coldly, his finger pressing the now damp fabric of her panties into her the cleft of her sex. "Do as I say and I'll even help you keep the account."

"I can't," Tracy almost sobbed as his finger slid repeatedly over her clit, the small nub hardening almost instantly. "Please, Steve, I'm married."

"I know, Tracy, and I just don't care," the younger man laughed, knowing what his caresses were doing to the attractive woman. "I'm going to get what I want from you, Mrs. Rush, one way or the other. Cooperate and I'll help you out at work, resist and things will be much harder for you." He warned as his free hand moved up to roughly cup one heaving breast, his fingers kneading the soft flesh through the thin fabric of her dress.

"Stop," Tracy moaned softly, her eyes on the floor as his hands roughly groped her, her body betraying her as his unwanted caresses sparked her arousal. "Please, Steve, just stop it. I'll do anything, just please leave me alone."

"You'll do anything?" Steve repeated, his thumb stroking over the small projection of her nipple as he leaned over her. "Yes, Mrs. Rush, you are going to do anything," He assured her, tugging on her hard nipple through her dress, "but I'm not going to leave you alone. I've waited too long for this opportunity." He assured her, his hand leaving her panties to grip her wrist, pulling her hand up to press against the large bulge of his erection. "I've been waiting ever since I joined the company to give you this," He insisted, his hand moving hers along the length of his cock, letting her feel the exact shape and size of his manhood. "And today is the day."

"Oh god," Tracy whimpered softly, her fingers automatically wrapping around the thick shaft of his penis as he dragged her hand along the length, forcing her to stroke him through his pants. "Don't, Steve, please don't." She pleaded; looking up at her young coworker with tear filled eyes even as her mind was subconsciously comparing his size to that of her husband.

"You like that cock don't you, Mrs. Rush," Steve taunted her, ignoring her soulful pleas for him to stop as her fingers traced along his bulge. "I bet it's a bit larger then your husband's isn't it? I'd bet that right now you're imagining what it will feel like to take all of this in you. Aren't you, Mrs. Rush?"

"No," Tracy lied, shaking her head as her cheeks burned in shame, embarrassed at his knowledge of what she had been thinking. He was larger then John, much larger, and it was with great shock that the attractive wife found herself idly wondering how it would feel to be fucked by her younger coworker.

"You know, for some reason, I just don't believe you, Mrs. Rush," Steve laughed, his hand releasing her wrist, quickly undoing his pants, drawing his massive hard on out in front of her. Pulling her hand to his exposed cock, Steve wrapped her fingers around the thick veined shaft, smiling as she instinctively began to stroke him. "That's right, Tracy," He chuckled encouragingly as her hand slowly moved up and down the length of his cock, "You really do like that cock, don't you? You want it in you, filling you, isn't that right, Mrs. Rush?"

"No, that's not true," She almost whimpered, her hand continuing to stroke the thick hard organ as she tried vehemently to deny the truth of his words. The tormented wife and mother could not take her eyes off Steve's cock, her fingers caressing each inch almost obsessively, her pussy drenched in anticipation. To her shame, Tracy realized that she was more aroused now than she had been in a long time, the thought of this young man, only a few years older than her children, desiring her enough to take her in her own house, risking discovery by her family.

"I don't believe you, Mrs. Rush," Steve insisted, his hand sliding down to her lap once more, his fingers running over the now damp center of her panties. "I don't think you even believe that yourself," He added softly, his finger tracing along the crevice of her sex, teasing over her hard clit. "You want it, Mrs. Rush. Admit it. Your body is screaming for sex, your pussy is wet and ready. Just admit that you want me to fuck you."

"I," Tracy stammered, looking up at the young man looming over her, her cheeks flushed with shame as she finally admitted the truth, "I want... I want you to... to fuck me."

"I know you do, Mrs. Rush," Steve assured her, his hand moving up to the waistband of her panties, his fingers sliding under the elastic to caress the soft skin of her stomach. "But I want you to show me how badly you want it," He continued, his fingers moving down to just barely brush her pubic bush. "Let me see how much you want me, what you are willing to do for me before I fuck you."

"Please don't," Tracy pleaded, her legs spreading wider as his fingers combed through her thick pubic hair. "Don't make me."

"Show me, Mrs. Rush," Steve insisted, his fingers sliding down to caress the soft lips of her sex, "show me how wet your pussy is, how badly you want me to fuck you."

"I can't," Tracy pleaded even as her hands moved down, her thumbs hooking into the waistband of her panties, drawing her underwear down off her hips even as she begged with her young coworker. "Please, Steve, please don't make me. My family, they are just in the next room. If they find out."

"Then you'll just have to be very quiet," the young man insisted as he watched the attractive woman slowly pushing her panties down, reluctantly exposing the triangle of hair above the puffy lips of her sex. "Won't you, Mrs. Rush?"

"God, I can't believe you are doing this to me," Tracy gasped as she pushed her panties down over her knees, letting them fall down her legs to bunch around her ankles. "How could you, Steve?"

"Quite easily, Mrs. Rush, quite easily," he chuckled, his fingers running along the wet lips of her cunt, feeling the warm moistness almost pouring out of her sex. "I could do this to you because deep down you really wanted it; you craved it just as your pussy is now craving a cock."

"No, no, that's not true," She sobbed, shaking her head in denial even as she knew deep down inside her that he was speaking the truth. She had been having a craving, an irrepressible itch that she could never figure out, never satisfy, and it was shameful horror that she realized that this might be what she wanted. "Stop, please, stop. I don't want this." She pleaded, trying to deny the sudden realization.

"Stop lying to me, Mrs. Rush." Steve told her simply, his voice filled with cold amusement. "You want this, you want this so bad that your pussy is dripping onto your chair," He taunted her, his fingers spreading her lips to reveal the glistening pink flesh. "Just look at yourself, Tracy. Look at how wet and ready your cunt is for a good fucking and then tell me truthfully that you don't want this."

"I..." Tracy gasped, her gaze falling to her crotch, obeying his command almost subconsciously as she stared in horror at her most private area, shocked at how wet and aroused she really was. "Please Steve, I... huhh," She gasped as he slid one finger deep inside her, her body tensing around the invading digit as a climax ripped through her body.

"I don't think you can deny it any longer, Mrs. Rush," Steve laughed as he watched the attractive older woman come, her head tossed back as she struggled to gain control of her own body. "You might as well admit how much of a slut you are, my dear. Admit how badly you want to get fucked right now."

"I," Tracy managed to gasp, her breathing slowly returning to normal as she recovered from her sudden orgasm, "I want to get fucked. I... I need to get fucked, Steve." She finally admitted softly, her voice little more than a whisper as Steve slowly slid his finger out of her soaked sex. "Please, Steve."

"That's what I thought," Steve chuckled triumphantly as the attractive older woman finally admitted her desire, her cheeks flushed with shame as she almost begged him. "And since you asked so nicely, I'll gladly give you exactly what you want, Mrs. Rush. First though, why don't you get out of that chair and let me sit down."

"Yes, Steve," Tracy sighed, her legs trembling slightly as she obediently stood up and stepped aside to let her confident young coworker take her seat, wondering why she automatically deferred to the young man.

"Thank you, Tracy," Steve smiled up at her as he leaned back in the comfortable chair, "now why don't you sit back down and get what you want so badly?" He asked, his hand gripping his erection and pointing it straight up at her.

"Yes, Steve," Tracy agreed softly, her cheeks burning with shame as she followed his suggestion, straddling his legs with her back to him as she slowly sat down.

"That's a good slut, Tracy," Steve chuckled, his hands sliding up her legs, caressing the soft flesh as she lowered herself down onto him. His fingers slid higher, pushing the skirt of her dress up over her hips, exposing her bare ass to his gaze as the tip of his cock brushed against the wet lips of her sex. "I bet John's never had you do it this way, has he?" Steve taunted the married woman as the swollen head of his erection slowly parted her lips as she lowered herself, impaling her hot sex with his cock.

"John..." Tracy gasped, her hands gripping the armrests of the chair as she paused, her pussy feeling like it was stretching to the limit around Steve's cock. "No, never like this," she managed to say after a few seconds, "I... I don't think I can keep quiet." She warned, a low moan cutting off her words as she sunk lower on his cock, the thick organ filling her in a way no man ever had before.

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byPogueMahone© 6 comments/ 62682 views/ 25 favorites

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