tagErotic CouplingsA "Touch" of Cleaning

A "Touch" of Cleaning

bynortythorts©

Pete tried, unsuccessfully, to avoid looking at his watch too often; it only made the time drag by even slower. He was alone in the office, and rubbed his erection. He had enjoyed -- or suffered -- an erection, on and off, most of the afternoon. He had tried to hide it and to will it so subside, but he was sure that Claire, one of his colleagues, had spotted it when she had come over to his desk to ask him to clarify some details in the report she was working on. She had pulled up an empty chair and he had needed to swing his own chair sideways to speak to her. He thought he caught her eyes briefly on his lap, then she had seemed nervous or embarrassed while talking to him. Despite his attempts to remain calm, he had experienced the same feelings.

Few people in the company worked beyond five on a Friday afternoon, and nobody in the office where he worked ever did so unless something urgent arose. The building was quite old, too, and offices were scattered between different floors and even between two buildings. He worked till six or six-thirty some days, but varied the day and frequency to avoid suspicion. On some of those days, but not all, it was not to undertake any work-related tasks.

Pete cursed himself for looking at his watch again. Five thirty-three. It would be another fifteen minutes or so before she arrived to clean the office.

Tina. She was thirty four years old with a young face and a smooth complexion. She was around five feet five tall and slim, and although she worked part-time as a cleaner she always wore a modest amount of makeup and looked nice. There was an appealing aspect to her appearance rather than an overtly sexual one. Her legs were not fat, but she had once said that she wished that her thighs were a bit slimmer -- he thought they were ideal, and had said so. Her breasts were average in size, neither big nor small and in perfect proportion to her slim build. Their consistency was perfect, too. They were still firm but soft enough to give way to his eager touch.

Occasionally she agreed to visit him at his home so that they could take their time. She had a partner, though, and had no wish to embark on an affair, and she always left almost immediately after sex. She had no desire to talk about her personal life, other than to stress that she expected discretion. There would be no exchanging of phone numbers or e-mail addresses, and although she was willing to visit him from time to time at his home, she would make her own way there and back, and did not expect him to try to find out where she lived.

Any arrangements or changes were made by her ringing as a withheld number to his extension at work.

If Pete had known it, she was happy with her partner but simply had a high sex drive. She wasn't a slag who would have sex with anyone anywhere at any time. But she did enjoy sex, and a small number of carefully selected and discreet partners added to the variety. She had been with her partner for a few years now and although there was still a strong sexual chemistry between them a little of the sexual sparkle had worn off and, despite her gentle efforts to break out of the rut, it had become a bit "samey".

Pete respected her wish, and avoided burdening her with his personal issues. His girlfriend had recently left him for someone else, and a no-strings relationship suited him just fine. He didn't want to be emotionally involved with anyone right now. He couldn't believe his luck that flirting with Tina had developed into a purely sexual relationship. He would have preferred it to happen more often, especially their more relaxed times at his home, but he could hardly complain about his lot!

And there was no denying that although when it happened at work it was short -- it WAS also sweet, the sweeter for being outlawed by that wide-embracing workplace term "gross misconduct", and for carrying the risk of dismissal. They were both as careful as they could be to minimise the risk, but, however small, it was still real and ever-present, and added to the thrill. And the essential brevity of these stolen times made them seem more intense.

Moreover, they managed to get a fair bit of variety into the stolen moments.

At last the office door opened and she stepped in, dragging the hoover behind her and carrying a bucket containing her cleaning materials. She was wearing her usual jeans, that fitted her quite tightly, and a pink vest top. She had evidently removed her bra before coming to his office. The effect was extremely appealing. Rather than clinging tightly to her, her top partly hugged her breasts and partly hung loosely over them, so their shape was partly visible and partly hinted at. Her nipples pressed slightly against the cotton. She smiled at him and said "Hi." he reciprocated. He looked at the papers before him and at his computer screen, pretending to work.

She began to dust the tops of the filing cabinets, and he stared hungrily but silently at her. She hummed to herself. Her jeans hugged her narrow waist and the contours of her hips and nicely rounded backside. Her jeans were also fairly tight over her largish thighs. Her dark, bobbed hair was neatly groomed and clasped behind her head with a large clip. Her skin was tanned. Under her vest-top her breasts were shapely and firm-looking. They wobbled and quivered under her top as she dusted.

She walked to the desk that faced his, and smiled coyly but said nothing. She sprayed polish on the desktop and began to polish it with the duster. He stared entranced at the rhythmical shaking of her breasts under her vest top. She bent lower, revealing most of her tit-flesh inside it, and began to rub the desk top a little harder, causing her firm breasts to sway more vigorously. Her nipples looked harder than before. Still neither of them spoke.

She walked across to the side door of the office. It only led to steps that served as a fire escape route and were never routinely used. Again he stared admiringly at the curves of her waist and hips. She opened the door and placed one foot behind it to keep it open.

She polished the brass doorplate, and he gazed again at the swaying of her gorgeous breasts under her vest top. Her crotch brushed the brass doorknob and with a thrill of delight he watched her rub herself almost imperceptibly but deliberately against it. He felt a shudder of delight, suspecting but uncertain of what she was going to do next.

As she continued to polish the doorplate she rubbed her crotch against the doorknob a little more noticeably. He blew out his breath in delight and suppressed desire.

Still polishing, she squatted on her haunches and with little sideways movements drew her breasts backwards and forwards and from side to side against it. They yielded freely and sensually against it, moulding themselves around it. She pushed up and down a little, teasing her cleft with the doorknob, then rubbed the tip of each breast in turn against it. She gave a low whimper. Her nipples had grown tauter, and now jutted proudly against the cotton of her top. Under the desk he rubbed his erection.

She stood up and stared down at the doorknob. She took a duster from her bucket and caressed the brass doorknob with it, then gripped it in the palm of her hand and began to rub it harder, faster, shafting the short handle and running the curved palm of her hand over and over the rounded end suggestively. Again she rubbed her jeans-clad crotch against it, slowly and lightly at first, then made more deliberate thrusting movements against it, cooing softly to herself. She slid one hand under her top and he stared at the ballooning of the cotton and at the movement of her hand under it. She closed her eyes and sighed, then clasped the door tightly with her hand and foot, still rubbing her crotch against the hard, unyielding doorknob.

Although she knew that he was staring eagerly at her, she avoided making eye-contact, wanting to give the impression of being so engrossed that she was oblivious to him. Apart from her whimpers and sighs, neither he nor she made any sound.

She gave a low sigh, and knelt upright on the floor. She rubbed her cheek against the doorknob, then nuzzled it with her lips. She poked out her tongue and began to lick the tip of it, then took it into her mouth and began to suck on it, murmuring softly. The actual knob of the door was oval in outline and quite large, and she had to open her mouth wide to take it in. Her face was almost a grimace to accommodate it, and she looked very lewd. He felt himself flush with excitement.

She stood up and unzipped her jeans. She eased forward to take the doorknob inside the open zip, and began to thrust against it, slowly and gently to begin with, then harder, moving her hips backwards and forwards, up and down, and in little circles.

Still pressing against the doorknob she tugged up her top, and tucked it under her chin to keep it clear of her breasts. Her nipples were hard, and her breasts were firm and upward-tilting. She began to grope one breast, flicking her fingertips swiftly across her nipple. She rolled her other orb with the cupped palm of her hand. She gave several contented sighs.

She tugged on her nipple, stretching it, and slid her other hand inside her jeans to her crotch. He watched her fingers moving as she caressed herself slowly. She lifted the lower part of her top to her mouth and held it with her teeth so that she and he could still see her breasts and the movement of her hands and fingers on them. She rubbed against the brass doorknob inside her jeans again, and as she rubbed against it she dropped her right hand to her open zip. She rubbed her crotch with the fingers of her right hand -- he guessed on her hood and nub -- through her panties. Her left hand still played with her breasts and nipples, and she looked down at them with her eyes half-closed.

Still they did not speak. Their silence, and her feigned oblivion made him feel like a voyeur watching in secret and with a degree of shame and excitement at seeing what he shouldn't. He was now rock-hard, but still refrained form making a move.

After a few moments her hand began to move faster inside her jeans, and she scooped her breast rhythmically up and down with her other hand. The sight of her swaying flesh made his erection press uncomfortably against his trousers. She gave a low moan and began to thrust harder against the brass handle, then still faster and harder. She tugged on her breasts and nipples, pulling them down and forwards, and squeezed them. She closed her eyes and with her crotch pressed hard against the doorknob she rubbed her clit and hood until, with little irregular gasps her whole body went into spasm.

She opened her eyes and smiled, then walked across to his desk. He swivelled his chair round to face her. She pulled her jeans down to her knees. Her slightly plump thighs were intensely alluring. Her black knickers were tiny and lacy, and through the damp patch on the front of them he could see her pale shaved pussy. She turned her back to him and leaned forward over his desk, bracing her hands against it.

"Pull my panties down and fuck me, Pete..."

Apart for when she entered the room, these were the first words she had spoken, and he was so focussed on her hot body that her words made him jump.

He reached forward and yanked her panties down to rest against her jeans and stared at her fabulous bum cheeks, then down between her parted thighs to he pouting pussy lips. He stood behind her. He rubbed his erect cock against the backs of her thighs and against her pouting mound. She trapped it between her thighs and squeezed them against it, savouring its throbbing, organic, pulsing hardness.

Self-pleasure was somehing in which she indulged from time to time but she found it a poor substitute. Dildoes or a battery-operated, multi-speed toys could give her an almost dizzying, intensely physical orgasm. But she loved the sensation of its genuine counterpart, its unfettered, living exuberance, the way it jerked and emptied as it came to orgasm. She even liked the feel of it softening inside her afterwards. No dildo or other toy available could replicate this. The display she had given him -- and the genuine physical orgasm that she had just given herself -- was just a prelude to a less physical but greater emotional satisfaction.

She gave a stifled gasp as he guided his cock inside her. He pushed in quickly and easily, as she was already slick from her self-pleasuring. He pushed his hand up her top and played with her firm but yielding breasts and hard nipples. Her breasts were sensitive and she thrilled in the feel of his passionate caresses and of his thrusting inside her.

"Mmmhhh, Tina, you gorgeous hot lady... oh yeah..." he gasped softly, even though he was sure that nobody was within earshot.

She knew how much he liked to be egged on in the ardour of these brief times. She reached behind her and stroked his balls. Although she had already climaxed she thrust in time with him, relishing the internal full feeling of his being inside her.

She half-turned her head and murmured.

"Mmmhhh, you pervert, you've been enjoying watching me play with myself. Yer balls are going hard and yer cock's hard... shoot yer nasty load up me, then, you know you want to...."

He squeezed her breasts harder and pinched her nipples.

"Oh yeah, Tina, yeah..."

He upped the pace and the depth of his strokes, kneading her firm naked breasts inside her top.

"Oh yeah, yer balls are hard now, aren't they? They're so big and round... they're full of spunk, that's why..." she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

He thrust hard into her now, her crudity driving him on.

"Mmmmm... you're so hard and tight inside me.... give it to me... shoot all that spunk up inside me... go on, shoot it, shoot it.. oh yeahhhh...."

He gritted his teeth as he pumped himself empty into her. They remained still for a few moments, she enjoying the organic hardness inside her still pushing in and out but beginning to soften, he enjoying the enveloping warmth of her. He gave a few more slow, half-hearted thrusts, then eased out of her.

She grinned provocatively at him and let out a low giggle. He watched as she took a tissue from the pocket of her jeans and wiped her sticky pussy. She dropped the tissue into his bin, and pulled up her panties and her jeans, swaying her hips as she tugged them up. She pulled off her vest top and for a few delicious moments treated him to another view of her naked breasts, then from under the cloths and aerosol sprays and bottles in her bucket where it had lain hidden she retrieved her pink satin bra.

They reverted back to silence, neither speaking as they enjoyed the last intense moments of intimacy undistracted. He stared as she slid on her bra back to front and clipped it, slid it round and pulled it up over her firm breasts, then slid the straps up well-toned arms and onto her shoulders. She pulled her vest top back on and straightened it.

He turned off his computer, picked up his briefcase and gave her a peck on the cheek. With his free hand he gave her bum a gentle squeeze.

"Thanks a million, again, Tina."

She gave a low giggle.

"Same to you, too."

He went to the door and opened it. He paused for a moment in the open doorway, feasting his eyes upon her then stepped into the corridor outside.

"Good-night," he called out casually, and apparently innocently, announcing his departure for the benefit of anyone, office colleague or cleaner, who might hear.

She smiled at him.

"See ya," she called, in equal apparent innocence and, turning round, recommenced cleaning the office. He closed the door and, still feeling a warm glow of contentment, headed for home.

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