A Man and his Faults

She asked me about some of the key assumptions built into my model which forced me to take my eyes from her legs to look at my screen and keyboard long enough to shift the display to a page containing key assumptions. When I had found the information she requested I looked up to report it and saw that she had re-crossed her legs again, this time pulling the skirt up to expose the tops of her nylons and a hint of flesh above them. She had let the Jimmy Choo on one foot slide off so it was hanging from her toe. She was bobbing her upper leg so the shoe was swinging on the end of her foot. It was all I could do to coherently explain the modeling assumption she had asked about. My cock jumped involuntarily at the erotic visual.

Melinda listened to my reply and brought a finger to her mouth sliding it inside like a pencil one chews on in thought (or like a cock she was sucking to my sordid mind). The finger had a bright red nail polish that matched the flaming color on her lips. My cock twitched again as I watched her finger invade her lips.

"Really Rodney? That's the assumption those dick heads are asking for?" (Wall Street partners swear a lot. It's part of the culture.) "Let me see that." As she spoke she jumped down from the table, kicking off her shoes I caught a quick glimpse of nails painted a bright red through the sheer fabric of her hosiery. She stepped around behind me stripping off her blazer and tossing it on the table. "It's warm in here Rodney. How do you get anything done?" Leaning over my shoulder, she was staring intently at the small screen on my laptop. She had one hand on the table and the other resting on the back of my chair. Her posture was mashing one of her large soft breasts against the side of my head. I may not have noticed the first glimpse of her breasts I had, but I noticed this. My cock flexed again. She rubbed her tit against my ear for several moments as she stared at the screen. Then she swore again, "Those bastards."

"Does this mean they aren't going to do the deal?" I asked, turning my head toward her as I spoke. My movement pushed my face into her breast that had formerly been resting against my ear.

She pushed back with her hands, dragging her boob across my face. "No, no. This deal will close right on schedule. They're just trying to squeeze us for a few more basis points of spread over Treasuries on the pricing and if your model is really bleak, they will want a bigger front end fee. Assholes." We swear a lot on Wall Street.

Melinda walked around me and hopped back up on the table. She pulled both feet up on the table hugging her knees against her chest. Her skirt had slid down her legs so that she was barely covered, but what I saw that was exciting me the most was the bright red polish of her nails showing through her hosiery. Fuck this was exciting. My dick was hard as a rock. I wanted to reach down and stroke it or reach out and stroke her toes, but I still cared about my job. This was a senior Partner I was dealing with here and she could fire me with a blink of her eye, maybe even have me banned from Wall Street for life.

Melinda was clearly thinking about the deal. Her knees tucked against her chest, she was rocking back and forth, giving me a view of her panty clad sex as she reached the back of each rocking motion. She was oblivious to my stare. Still it wasn't her sex that was driving me wild. It was her long legs and bright red toenails, clad in sheer black nylon. That's where my lewd mind was focused. My cock was aching.

Then I could see her face brighten with an idea. She asked me what assumption I had made on a rather obscure part of the model. When I told her, she dropped one leg off the table, absent mindedly letting her legs spread apart, and said, "Double it.... No triple it. That should get us where we need to be."

I made the change she requested and reran the model. It took a little while and I realized that she was staring at my crotch the whole time. She was still sitting with one leg pulled up on the table and the other spread lewdly to the side and hanging down. When I gave her the results she smiled and said, "Well that's not great but it's a lot better."

Melinda was staring directly at my cock now, her mind clearly off the deal and focusing on me. "Rodney," she said, "Do you do foot rubs? Those shoes kill my feet on a long day." Without waiting for a response she swung one foot to the side and planted it squarely in my lap, atop my engorged but still clothed prick.

I didn't recall rubbing a Partner's feet as having been in the job description I read before applying for the job, but as I looked down at her sexily clad foot with its flame red toenails parked atop my rigid cock I decided it was more like an undisclosed fringe benefit for a pervert like me. Responding with silence, I picked up her foot and began to softly massage her arch. "Oh yes, that's nice. So nice," she said. "But toes, Rodney. Don't forget the toes."

I held her foot up in front of my face staring at her toes as I spread them apart stretching the covering nylon. I massaged the underside and pulled on them, caressed them, all through the slick nylon stockings. Then I set the foot back atop my cock and softly stroked the brightly painted tops of her toes and then the top of her arches. It was all I could do not to drool as I looked down at the red nails.

I could hear her breathing picking up. I moved my attention to her heel and then slowly slid my hand up the back of her calf. She groaned when I reached her knee and sucked in a gasp of breath as I softly caressed the inside of her thigh. I was mesmerized by the warm feel of her thigh surrounded by the soft, smooth, fabric of her hosiery. I had never imagined it could be this good.

Just as I started to work my hand higher on her thigh Melinda rotated and dropped her other foot in my lap. She picked up the leg I had been working on and laid the back of her ankle on my shoulder inviting me to attended to the foot now massaging my cock through my trousers. Now I could look directly up her skirt and see her panties. They had a large damp spot.

I worked her other foot as I had the first one and when I reached the top of her calf, she lowered both feet into my lap and begin rubbing my still clothed dick with both feet. She had opened the buttons on her blouse and was leaning forward playing with her exposed tits which she had released from their imprisoning bra. "Rodney, that feels like a very big dick."

"Would you like to see it?"

"Oh yes. And I'd like to do a lot more than just look at it," she responded.

I released my belt and zipper and pushed my pants and undergarment to the floor. My dick was rigid and standing almost straight up.

"Oh my," she said. "You have a beautiful cock."

I reached down and placed her slick nylon clad feet on either side of my cock. She immediately got the idea and began stroking and fondling my rigid cock with the nylon clad soles of her feet. It felt fabulous and I groaned softly.

"Tell me Rodney. Do you get turned on by nylons and women's feet?"

I groaned in response.

"I thought so," she said.

The next ten minutes were occupied by Melinda using her toes and the soles of her feet to fondle my cock, spreading the copious precum I was leaking around the head and making her nylon clad feet even slicker than they had been when she started. I said nothing, just lying back in the chair and enjoying what she was doing. Mostly my eyes were closed, but on the few occasions I did look up I recognized that Melinda was using her hands, freed from any other duty by the use of her feet to masturbate me, to fondle her tits and play with her pussy. She had shed her blouse and bra completely and her skirt was pushed up around her waist like a belt. Her panties were pushed aside to let her fingers dance on her clit.

"Are you getting close Rodney," she asked.

"Fuck yes," I responded. I was hanging on the edge of cumming.

"If I let you cum, how quickly can you recover? You are only what, 26 or so, right."

"Yes," I gasped struggling to hold on. "I can get hard in five minutes, if you suck my cock."

"That's a little presumptuous for an Associate, isn't it?"

"Oh, Yeah I guess," I gasped. "What is it you want?" I asked her.

"I want you to fuck me," she responded.

"Oh, yeah. A little cock sucking will do it. That and five minutes."

She laughed at me.

At this point I was so close to cumming that I didn't give a damn whether she fired me or not. I just had to get off.

She slid one foot beneath my balls and firmly stroked my perineum with her panty clad big toe. That set me off. My cock went wild pumping out stream after stream of jism that flew through the air coating her nylon clad shins almost to her knees. I lay back in my chair gasping, but before I could even get my wind back she patted the conference room table next to her and said, "Up here Rodney. Take all your clothes off and sit here on the table so I can get you hard again."

I stripped off my clothes and sat on the table while she peeled off the remainder of her clothing. She was about to peel off her nylons when I spoke up, "No, not those. Leave those on."

"Oh, these do turn you on, don't they Rodney?" She pushed her panties down and then refastened the clips to her garter belt so she was standing before me naked but for those incredibly sexy nylons and the garter belt holding them up. She turned away and leaned forward, her legs spread and her hands flattened on her feet. She held that position while she rubbed in the cum I had sprayed on her shins Her naked pussy was gleaming in the lights of the conference room. I could feel my cock beginning to recover. It was laying along one leg about half engorged.

Melinda pulled up the chair I had been sitting in so she was sitting between my legs with her face inches from my lethargic looking cock.

I felt her mouth slurp up my cock and began a magnificent blow job. I suppose you don't succeed as she had in life without knowing how to give a good blow job. Not to say that she was a slut or immoral, but just that Wall Street is a tough place for a woman.

It didn't take anywhere near the five minutes of recovery time I had quoted before my cock was fully erect. Melinda released it with a pop and then sat back studying it like a new creation. She was leaning back in the chair, her legs spread, stroking my rigid cock with one hand while she stoked her gleaming pussy with the other hand. "Oh my that is a lovely dick you have Rodney."

She leaned forward and slowly stroked my cock with her long tongue, starting at my balls and ending at the tip. I gasped as she caressed the tip with her tongue.

"I think you've recovered, Rodney," she said as she rose from the chair. She leaned forward holding my cock in one hand and dragging its tip across her fully engorged nipples. Always helpful, I reached out with my hands and held her pendulous breasts up and out as she continued to masturbate on the tip of my cock. I could hear her breathing accelerating as her arousal heightened.

Eventually she stood up straight, pulling her breasts from my hands and, looking briefly at her watch, said, "It's getting late Rodney. We need to finish up. I want you to fuck me Rodney. Fuck me good and hard. Can you do that Rodney?" She pulled a couple of chairs up so their backs were against the table. She was sitting between them, her legs spread and her feet resting on the backs of the chairs. I stood between her legs as she lay back and repeated her request. "It's time to fuck me Rodney. Let's get on with it."

But I couldn't bring myself to ignore her gorgeously sexy silk clad thighs. I bent down and dragged my face against the soft fabric, first on the inside of one thigh and then the other. "Rodney," she said with the impatience I had come to expect from a senior banker.

I stood, but still paused just a bit longer--long enough to caress her toes resting on the chair backs. Their flaming red nail polish was attracting me like a moth to flame. She purred and then said, "Rodney, you pervert. Enough with your foot fetish already. Get that dick of yours to work."

Okay, she's the Partner I thought. I stepped up to her and begin to poke softly at the opening to her cunt.

"Don't be a wuss, Rodney. Get that dick to work."

Again I thought okay, she's the Partner. I flexed my legs, lined my dick up with my hand and then rammed it home. Melinda gasped, "Oh fuck you're big."

I didn't need to be told again what she wanted so I begin applying long hard strokes to her with my balls hitting her ass on each stroke and the head of my cock nearly pulling out as I backed up just before I rammed it home again. Melinda cried out with a whimper as I hit bottom on each stroke. While I did that I roughly mauled each of her big tits. It was hard fucking, but that is what she had asked for.

"Oh fuck yes," she said. "That's so fucking good. That's it. That's it. Just keep that up. Whatever you do don't stop."

Accommodating her was no problem. It had only been a few minutes since one of the more massive climaxes of my young life so there was little or no risk that I was going to climax again in any great rush. My dick was hard and I was thoroughly enjoying the feel of her hot wet cunt as I slid back and forth. And the visuals provided by her nylon clad legs spread out on either side of me were stunning. God this is a great fuck, I thought.

After about ten minutes of steady screwing, I could tell from her whimpering she was getting close. I pulled a hand back from her tits and used my fingers to rub her clit. She gasped, "Oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes. that's it. Just keep that up. Don't you dare stop." She didn't last long after that. When her orgasm took her she screamed and arched her back driving my cock as far into her cunt as she could get it. The climax took her in waves, each marked by a grunt and a ripple of pressure on my cock from her cunt muscles. When she eventually finished she lay back on the conference room table breathing hard. She may have been done, but I was far from done. I kept my hard cock fully inserted but remained still until her breathing began to return to normal. Then I began to stroke again.

"Oh, shit," she said. "You're not done, are you?"

"I'm a long ways from done," I said as I resumed fucking her.

"Good. That's why I came by to see you."

I fucked her to three more climaxes over the next half hour or forty-five minutes in a variety of positions. She was noisy and profane throughout. Ultimately, we finished in a classic missionary fuck atop the conference table with her legs raised and her feet locked behind my buttocks. We were both rutting like animals with a lot of noise as we approached our climax. We came together, with her screaming and me growling like a bull. Afterward we flopped to the side, each lying on our back sweating hard and staring at the ceiling lights.

"Wow," I said.

"Yes," she replied sitting up. She rose and quickly dressed. "I hate to fuck and run Rodney, but I have a 7:30 breakfast meeting with a couple of geeks that want to take their start-up public. A shower and a couple of hours of sleep will help. Duty calls."

I was still lying on my back on the conference room table as I heard her high heels clicking on the floor heading for the door. Then just as she opened it, she said, "Oh and Rodney. One more thought on your financial model." With that she told me how to make an obscure change that would transform our client firm from a disaster to modestly profitable under even the bleak conditions the lenders were insisting on.

"Really," I said, lifting my head off the table. "Where did that idea come from?"

"Oh I thought of it just as we were approaching my second climax. But you were doing such a great job fucking me. I didn't want to distract you. Just make sure you get it to Ralph by morning. He and I have to meet with the lenders at 10:00.

Then she paused for a moment longer. "I don't suppose I have tell you this but everything that went on in this room tonight is confidential. Except of course, I will expect you to let everyone know about my input into your financial model. Bye."

With that she blew me a kiss and walked out the door. It took me until almost 7:00 a.m. to rework the model to implement her 'modest change'. A couple of weeks later back in New York I received an interoffice mail envelope marked confidential. Inside were the cum stained nylons Melinda had been wearing that night. I still have those today along with the panties I found under the table as I was cleaning the room up after sending the revised model to my boss. I have to confess that I have contributed additional cum stains to both the hosiery and the panties as I re-lived my quickie with Melinda.

I never saw her again, in part because I was a lowly Associate and she was, well how else can I say it, a god. Also I left the Bank after a couple of years to join a West Coast venture capital firm that offered me a lot more money. Money. That's what it's all about when you work in the finance business.

Flings

As I explained above, a fling is a longer term relationship than a quickie (not, however to be confused the somewhat longer term relationship of marriage where the legitimizing of the sex, takes much of the fun out of it). Quickies are simply the thrill of the moment, like a rollercoaster ride. A good fling, however, is a thing to be savored enjoyed. There is an arc of lust to a fling. It starts like a quickie. You never quite know where and when an opportunity for a fling will arise. Occasionally you may even mistake the opportunity for a fling to be a simple quickie or the other way around. Attention to detail is important here. Does she want to see you again? Do you want to see her again? You just have to play it by ear and see how it works out. Once you are past the initial excitement of the commencement of a fling there is a long period of secretive conduct and illicit sex that should be savored and enjoyed. Eventually the relationship will cease to satisfy or will simply become impossible for one party or the other to continue, signaling the end of a fling. An unfortunately frequent cause for the end of a fling will be the unshared desire of one party to convert it to a marriage. You should know when it's time to end a fling and be able to end it humanely and gracefully.

I have learned that churches are good places to initiate a fling. The sermon is often boring and women tend to dress nicely in church. I am not a regular church goer, but I do find myself at weddings and funerals from time to time. At funerals the dress code tends to be the classic little black dress with a string of pearls and... you guessed it... black nylons and heels. That is the only part of a funeral that I enjoy.

Of course the rule at weddings is don't upstage the bride--just the rest of the women in attendance. Women can be very competitive. Most wear a nice dress and that frequently includes stockings and heels. There are lots of things about weddings I enjoy but the tendency of the women to wear stockings and heels and the freedom to ogle with the anonymity a big wedding provides is one of favorite features. Beyond the opportunity to engage in a little free-form ogling weddings are joyous events and usually include a good party. And there is always the tradition of wedding sex. There is something about a wedding that just makes women... well I won't say horny... but let's just say looser.