Amber

I had only been in my job as facilities manager of a major hospital in the Philadelphia area for a few months. Yes, it was demanding as it might sound. Truth be told, it wasn't the doctors who were the prima donnas, not most of them anyway.

Rather, it was the office managers, otherwise known as the practice managers. See, even though the great majority of visitors don't necessarily pay attention, most hospitals have a variety of suites where the doctors either have their office or see individual patients.

So, I was responsible to make sure they had their needs catered to. Equipment, air conditioning, lighting, and so on.

Wherever possible, I steered clear of the practice managers because inevitably, whenever I stopped in to check on something, they found me three other things to do.

And that leads me to Amber.

She wasn't the bitchy prototype of practice manager. In fact, far from it.

She was a sweet woman, transplanted from Georgia where she met her cardiologist husband in college. Georgia Tech, to be precise. Doctor Hubby worked in another hospital, and apparently he was among the best in the region. Maybe too devoted to his craft, as it turned out.

Amber kept me busy, summoning me to her office on an almost daily basis for the most arcane, nebulous things. Things that anyone on my staff could have addressed. Yet Amber always insisted on having me personally attend to her requests.

Oh, not that I minded. Nope, not by a long shot. Not only was Amber the antithesis of the normal practice manager whose personalities rivaled that of Cruella De Vil, she was also easy on the eyes, especially for a woman I estimated to be in her mid-to-late forties.

Short, thick, honey blonde hair cut in a stylish bob. Big green eyes and thin pink lips that always glimmered with what looked like a fresh sheen of lip gloss, just waiting to be kissed. Tall, maybe a bit under six fee tall, or about an inch taller than myself.

Best yet, although she dressed conservatively and was usually adorned in a white hospital smock, her amazing body was hard to hide. Endless legs. A tight, wide bubble butt that shook in tantalizing jiggles when I followed behind her like a adoring puppy. And the bonus was the set of fat, firm jugs on her that jutted out of the smocks like two extra large scoops of vanilla ice cream.

There's just something about big tits on a tall girl, isn't there?

Unfortunately, Amber also wore a diamond ring on her hand that was about the size of a golf ball, so I never imagined that anything would transpire.

However, as the saying goes, ya just never know.

It was on one of these trips to her office that the proverbial can of worms opened. I was now comfortable enough with Amber to engage her in the subtle flirting that we had initiated little by little over the past few weeks.

I was futzing around with a counter drawer when Amber asked me to look at a light in their conference room. I gazed at her shapely ass sashaying beneath the scrub as she walked ahead of me.

There's just something about a nice ass on a tall girl, isn't there?

When we entered the room, she pointed to one recessed light in the ceiling. "There, that one. See how it has a slightly different hue than the others. Can you change out that one so that the look is more uniform?" she asked in her slow, polite drawl, turning on the latent Southern girl charm that just had to melt any Yankee boy. She could have asked me to build a townhouse and I would have complied.

I shook my head in mock indignation. "Ya know, you're very high maintenance, has anyone ever told you that?" I asked.

She looked back at me, smiling, happy to play along. I noticed that she had undone the front of her smock and her tits stood proud under a tight ribbed sweater.

"Yes, I know, my husband used to tell me that all the time."

"Used to?" I asked, climbing up on a chair so that I could unscrew the bulb. "What, have you suddenly become lower maintenance?"

I looked down to see that Amber had walked closer to the chair, and that her head was now at my crotch level, no more than a foot away. And she wasn't looking up. No, she was looking straight ahead. Right where my tool belt would have been, if I had brought one, if you know what I mean.

"Oh, no, I'm still high maintenance," she said, finally raising those big green eyes upward. "But we separated about two and half months ago. So I don't necessarily hear that anymore."

Her eyes were twinkling now, mischievously. "Except from you."

I unscrewed the bulb quickly and scurried off of the chair so that my, um, enthusiasm would not grow in this compromising position. It's not every day I get a six-foot-tall woman at eye-level with my cock

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know," I stammered, now face-to-face with Amber, looking up at her by about two or three inches since she had on conservative heels. "I mean, your ring and everything. You still have it on."

She sat down on the same chair I had just been standing on seconds ago. The result was that her face was once again parallel to my crotch. I didn't think this was a coincidence, but I wasn't getting my hopes, or anything else, up just yet.

"Oh, this," she said, twirling the ring around her long finger. "I keep it on so that I can keep the gossip down in the office. Plus, it fends off any unwanted advances from the fellas."

Her eyes traveled from my face down to my lap, and then back up again, slowly. I was grabbing the light bulb so hard now that I was afraid it would shatter in my palm.

"Although, sometimes," she cooed seductively. "...a girl wouldn't mind advances from the right man. It's been awhile since I've been on a date. I might be rusty. But I won't know 'til I find out."

Fortunately, I'm a man who can detect such cues.

"I'm gonna have to get another bulb, and I'll be back in just a bit, Amber. And I think I can offer some tips for your situation, if you're interested."

I held out my hand not holding the bulb in a death grip, and she placed her hand in mine and rose from the chair.

"Oh, I'd be very interested in whatever you can offer me, John. See you in a little bit, then?"

Her walk to the door this time had just a little additional shake since she knew it was a private show for me, away from the rest of the office staff.

I returned about a half-hour later, somehow resisting the urge to duck into my private office restroom and alleviate my growing discomfort. Without a word, she rose from the front desk and escorted me to the conference room.

Amber stood next to me again as I climbed up on the chair. "I always wondered if you facilities guys had a special method when it comes to screwing things. So, if you don't mind, I'll watch as you give me your tips. Can you multi-task?" she teased.

This time, I leaned my pelvis out just slightly towards her under the auspices of reaching the light socket. Amber smiled up at me, not recoiling in the least. Her mouth was inches from my zipper.

"Normally, Mrs. Bailey...," I began, feeling naughty enough to acknowledge that she was still technically a married woman. "...my screwing techniques are a professional trade secret and exhibited only in private quarters."

I rocked my hips forward slowly as I inserted the light bulb. "But since you're separated now and might be rusty by your own admission, I might be coerced to demonstrate for you in a seminar, so to speak."

Amber licked her lips, the lip gloss shining under the illumination of the new bulb, now properly and snugly inserted in the socket. "Yes, I'd like that. It's been quite a while for me. But I used to be quite good at screwing myself, so I'm certain I'd catch on quickly with the right tutor."

"Just how long has it been since you last, uh, practiced?" I asked.

"Over a year at least. My socket definitely needs filling."

I still stood on the chair, pondering that, acting like I was adjusting the bulb, trying to stat composed with Amber's tongue sneaking out of the corner of her mouth. "Times have changed since you dated last, Mrs. Bailey. It's perfectly acceptable, and even encouraged, for the woman to ask out a man that she's attracted to. That's one tip I can give you."

Amber didn't hesitate. "Then let's make an assumption that I'm attracted to you, shall we? Let's do lunch tomorrow. Let's drive in separate cars, so that no one knows. Meet you at Phil's Tavern at twelve-thirty?"

"On one condition," I said, easing reluctantly down from the chair, aware of people walking in the hallway. "You have to wear your sexiest, sluttiest lingerie underneath your conservative clothes. Dress just for me. Deal?"

"Deal," she replied, her face flush with the unmistakable glow of desire. "I like it when a man tells me how to dress. It's incredibly fucking sexy."

It was a long twenty-four hours until lunch time tomorrow, interrupted by more than one spirited masturbation session.

************************************************

Amber had already secured a booth in the back of the tavern by the time I arrived. It was difficult to tell exactly how she was dressed in the dark corner, but I wasn't so much interested in what she had on for public view.

"My first date in almost twenty years," she greeted me. "So I just felt the need to put on something extra special this morning."

"I'm honored to be your date, Mrs. Bailey," I responded, still enjoying calling her by her married name.

"So, let's ask some questions to get to know one another. Do we have another deal?"

"We do. Ask away. I'm an open book."

I noticed that she wasn't wearing anything out of the ordinary than her everyday office attire. A light blue cotton sweater and black linen slacks. I resisted the urge to interrogate her about her secret undergarments for the time being. I had another subject that needed to be explored.

"Has it really been more than a year for you?"

She exhaled deeply, a forlorn sigh. "Sadly, yes. We drifted farther and farther apart in the last few years, to the point that there was, well, nothing. Physically or emotionally."

"May I comment at this point?" I asked, smiling.

Amber looked at me, sexily tucking a loose strand of thick hair behind her left ear. "Of course."

"He must be fucking crazy. My hands and mouth would never leave that incredible body."

She half-groaned, half-grunted. "Ooooh, your mouth, too? You're an oral man? I hear there are so few of you left. Like an endangered species, heading towards extinction."

"It's true, what can I say? A caveman, perhaps, but an orally fixated one."

"Well, you won't have to say anything when your mouth is full, and I'm not talking about lunch. And, fortunately for you, I'm quite oral, too, so I suppose it's a good thing that opposites DON'T attract."

Just then the waitress appeared with two menus and started reciting the specials. Amber politely waved her off. "We don't have a lot of time, and we're really here for the company. So, just two iced teas, if you don't mind. And don't worry, we tip well."

The girl retreated, not sure whether to be annoyed at the lack of lunch patrons or pacified with the promise of a nice gratuity. It was well-played by Amber. Neither of us was here for a meal.This was foreplay.

Amber shuffled in the booth so that our thighs were touching. The heat coming off of our bodies was palatable. "You damn Yankees still don't know how to make a proper sweet tea, but I'm not a caffeine person. So, this swill you call iced tea will just have to do. Now, it's my turn to ask a question."

"Shoot."

"Do you want to know what I did this morning when I woke up?"

I wanted to learn this information as much as I wanted a puppy on my ninth birthday. "Uh, is that a trick question?"

Amber gave me a Cheshire-cat grin, reclining into the seat back, which caused her breasts to push against the material of her sweater.

"I knew I had a hot date today," she began slowly, her voice huskier that I had ever heard it. "So, I kinda celebrated by making this little recording."

She slipped her hand into her purse and extracted her smart phone. She pushed a few buttons and handed me the device.

"I'm gonna go to the ladies' room so you can enjoy in peace. Hit this here...," she pointed to a link on the screen, "... and enjoy. It lasts about six minutes. Be right back."

I did as instructed and pushed the screen. A video appeared of Amber, wearing a short plush pink robe, tied loosely at the waist by a sash, leaning over her dresser.

The camera was adjusted in a way so that I had a dual image of Amber, one from behind and the other showing her with a full frontal in her reflection in the mirror.

It was quite imaginative, actually. I wondered how much time it took her to come up with this angle and how adept she was at being a cinematographer.

She leaned over the dresser further so that her tits became visible in the mirror and the robe rode up enough so that her ass cheeks peeked from the bottom hemline.

I was peering so intently at the screen that I barely noticed that two iced teas had been placed on the table. I wondered if the waitress had seen the video playing in my hand. I also wondered if she saw my other hand now placed over my lap, unconsciously stroking my hard-on through my suit pants.

Amber rifled through the drawer, holding up several very provocative items, including a black bustier and garter set. She held it up to her body, on top of the robe, and slowly let the robe fall off of her shoulders, exposing her impossibly firm breasts.

They defied gravity, so big, so full. Silver-dollar-sized, chestnut-colored areolas, topped by toffee-hued nipples, stiff as tiny marbles.

She held the bustier under her boobs as the robe slunk further down her torso, so that only the sash kept the robe from cascading to the floor.

She was naked from the waist up now, and brought the lace to her chest and cupped her left tit in her hands.

She lowered her head, and amazingly, pulled her tits towards her mouth, and her tongue snaked out and began to lick circles over her areola. How I didn't come in my pants at that moment I'll never know, one of the greatest tests ever of my self-restraint.

After laving her tits with saliva for a full five or ten seconds, she lifted her head and watched her image in the mirror. She slowly shook her head and placed the bustier set back into the drawer.

She stroked her chin in contemplation with one hand, rustling through the drawer, scattering lace and silk items seemingly everywhere. Suddenly, she reached deep into the back of the drawer and extracted a Carolina blue bra and thong set, the color closely matching the sweater she had on today.

She nodded, smiled, and turned her back to the dresser, so that she was now facing the lens, which seemed to be only a few feet away. She took another step towards the camera, which caused her to be farther away from the mirror, and with her right hand, she untied the sash.

The robe fell to the carpet and she stood, completely naked, a freshly showered, glimmering, beautifully manicured pussy now in full view.

Small wisps of light brown hair were cut in almost a directional landing strip, pointing right down to her slit on her mound.

She kept walking closer and closer to the lens so that from this view now, the only part of her body visible was just below her belly button to the top of her thighs.

Meanwhile, in the mirror, she kept getting father away, so that she was completely exposed from the back, showing two full buttocks, the same ones I had so admired during her many walks in front of me.

Amber lifted one leg and eased the thong over her ankle and up her calf, and then repeated the motion on the other leg.

She tugged on the thong until it went over her knees, and then she pulled it over her thighs and pulled it snugly into the folds of her snatch. Her labia were visibly dripping, thin pink lips protruding out of the side of the thong in the front, while a single strand of silky floss eased into the crack of her taut buttocks from behind.

She ran her hands over her legs, pussy, and ass, adjusting the thong while caressing her skin.

Apparently satisfied, she walked backwards from the lens and back closer to the mirror. She spent several seconds pulling on her nipples, and I made notice that she handled them firmly, roughly, while her head went back in pleasure.

She slipped the bra straps over her sexy shoulder blades, placed the cups of her bra over each breast, and reached behind her to do the snaps on her back.

Amber stood in front of the mirror with one hand leisurely tweaking her nipples through the bra, while the other dipped into the crease in her thong. She then bent over, her head actually dipping into the desk drawer, and pulled out a silver bullet vibrator with her mouth.

She removed her hand from her tit and began to pump the vibrator into her mouth, sucking on it, licking it, giving it an enthusiastic pseudo-blowjob, when suddenly her body shuttered and heaved, her stomach muscles rippling, as she exploded into orgasm. Last thing I saw was her hand leaning over the camera lens, and the screen went dark.

Show's over, folks, thank you for coming.

With the impeccable timing of a seasoned actress, Amber walked through the tables back to our booth and grinned at what was no doubt the priceless expression on my face.

She reached down, took back her smart phone, and dropped three things on the table.

"The twenty dollar bill is for the waitress," Amber said. "Lunch is on me."

I glanced down at the other two items. One was the light blue thong. I looked up at her.

"It's still soaked. I just came again in the restroom. Enjoy it. I think I smell nice."

The other was a business card for a restaurant in King of Prussia, and a phone number on the back.

"I made a reservation for us Friday night at eight. Meet me there. I decided the bustier and garter were more appropriate for evening wear. So, now I won't have that pesky "what will I wear" decision to make. At least underneath."

She continued, flipping the card over, "That's my cell number. You'll have to text me later today to tell me what you'd like me to wear over it. I'd like that."

Amber looked over her shoulder at me as I watched her ass leave the restaurant, knowing it was no longer encased in a thong, which was now in my hand.

"That would turn me on," were her parting words.

I finished both iced teas. I was thirsty.

*****

TO BE CONTINUED, IF YOU READERS LIKE THE CHARACTER OF AMBER...