And That's the Rubbylinkznut©
Jason stared at Marsha's ass as she leaned over the conference table in her office reviewing the ad layouts they'd been working on. Part of him was admiring her shapely ass, but most of him was still upset over the performance evaluation she'd given him yesterday.
Jason was a 23-year-old artist, fresh out of art school, working for a medium size Ad Agency on the west coast. Marsha was the Creative Director he worked under, and it was she who was responsible for reviewing his work and doing his performance evaluations. He'd been with the agency for 3 months now, and had just received his 90-day review yesterday.
In a nutshell, she'd told him that he had a real talent, but he wasn't using it. She called him lazy and unmotivated. And she said he needed to be more assertive, more aggressive. Because of his shortcomings, she was withholding any raise, and putting him on probation for 30 days. At the end of that time, they would either talk again, or he'd be let go. And, she wanted him to work tomorrow. There went his Saturday.
In spite of his anger, Jason had to admit that Marsha was not at all unpleasant to look at. She was 35 years old, single, and stood about 5'9' tall. Her sandy blonde hair fell to just below her shoulders and had a slight natural wave to it. She looked to be in good shape, like she worked out regularly, and had a nice, healthy bosom.
"Jason, can you come here a minute?" she called without looking up.
He rose from his desk and walked through the open door to her office, not really in any particular hurry.
"What's up?" he asked.
"Take a look at these layouts and tell me what you think."
Marsha was leaning over the conference table, her left hand resting on the table for support, and her right hand pointing to the layouts in front of her. Jason moved over beside her and leaned over the table. Marsha's position made it difficult for him to get a good look at the layouts without touching her.
What the hell, he thought. It wasn't as if she valued him as an employee or anything. He might as well enjoy himself. She was probably going to fire him anyway.
He placed his hand on her back and leaned into her shoulder to get a better look. He felt Marsha stiffen up instantly and move a bit to her right.
"Wow," he said. "You sure are jumpy, aren't you?"
"Never mind me, just tell me what you think of the layouts," she said. But he sensed a nervousness in her voice that wasn't there before. And all he did was touch her!
He liked the layout, and he told her so. He thought it was both eye catching and provocative.
"How about this one?" she asked moving a little further down the table.
Again, he moved down beside her, placed his hand on her back, and leaned into her so he could see the layout better. And again she stiffened up and moved away.
But this time, Jason decided he'd really have some fun. After all, he was probably history anyway. He might as well go down swinging.
"You need to relax, Marsha," he said. He slid quickly behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Here, this will help some," he said as he began massaging her shoulders.
Instantly, Marsha stood up straight. "That's really not necessary, Jason," she said as she tried to step away from him.
But the grip on her shoulders was firm, holding her in her place. "Relax, Marsha," he said. "You really need this. You're way to tense." He continued massaging her shoulders as she stood beside the table. Gradually, he could feel her beginning to relax.
"How's that feel?" he asked. Immediately, he could feel her tense up again.
"That feels good, Jason," she responded, "but it's really not necessary. Please stop."
"Nonsense," he replied. "You need it, and I enjoy doing it. So just try to relax."
He continued working her shoulders, slowly inching his way to her arms, then back to her neck. He saw her lower her head slightly, and felt her body responding to his massage. Slowly, he again inched his way from her neck, over her shoulders, and down her arms. Only this time, he made sure to "inadvertently" brush the sides of her breasts.
He felt her jump slightly at his intrusion, but as soon as he moved his hands back up her arms she relaxed again. Slowly, he repositioned her so she was facing directly at the side of the conference table. The move was so slow, and so gradual, that she hadn't even been aware of it.
Gently, he eased her upper body down towards the table top. "Bend over," he said softly, yet firmly. "Then I can really do it right."
Marsha felt him pushing her gently towards the table, and she felt her body tense up again. "No," she said. She reached her arms out to the table to support her body. "Please stop."
But he continued to massage her, working her tired, aching muscles. Slowly, she felt her body relaxing again. God, but he was good at this, she thought. She couldn't ever remember having a massage that felt so good. She could feel herself giving in, slowly but surely, to the magic in his fingers, as they now moved slowly across her back and down her sides.
As he moved back up her back, she felt herself surrender and lower her body to the table.
"That's better," Jason said. "Just relax and enjoy it." He continued rubbing her muscles, from her back, to her arms, to her shoulders. When he reached her lower back again, he gently slid his hands under her T-shirt and onto her bare skin.
She tensed up slightly, trying to raise herself off the table. "Relax," he said softly, holding her down gently. "I'm in charge now. You just relax and enjoy."
Something in the tone of his voice was different, she noted, and as much as she hated to do it, it was time to call a halt to the massage. "That's enough, Jason," she said, trying to raise herself off the table.
But Jason held her down, gently but firmly, while his hands still massaged her bare back under her shirt. "I told you to relax and enjoy," he said firmly. He continued to work his hands on her, moving slowly further and further up her back, finally reaching her bra.
He could feel the conflict within her as she alternated between relaxing and enjoying the massage, and trying to raise herself off the desk. But the periods of resistance were coming less and less often, and lasting for a shorter and shorter time, until eventually, she lay completely still, moaning softly as he worked her back.
Sensing that the time was right, Jason slid his hands down her back, grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt, and began pulling it up her body. Expecting at least some resistance, he was surprised when, instead, she raised her body slightly, making it easier for him to remove the garment.
Quickly, he slid the shirt off of her, moved his hands to her bra, unclasped it, and peeled the straps away from her back. He returned his hands to her back, now laid completely bare before him.
He continued massaging her thoroughly, over her arms, her shoulders, her neck, and her back. He slid her arms up and away from her body, allowing him better access to her sides, and allowing him to brush the sides of her tits.
By now, Marsha was thoroughly absorbed in the pleasure he was giving her. She was aware, albeit barely, that Jason had removed her shirt and undid her bra, and that she had put up no resistance at all. She was also aware of a moistening in her panties as the pleasure he was inflicting on her was slowly but steadily arousing her, and just as steadily wearing away her defenses.
After several minutes, she heard his voice. "Roll over." By then, she was so absorbed in the pleasure he was giving that she never hesitated to do as he instructed. She rolled to her back, somehow managing to keep her bra in place over her breasts.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. He smiled at her, leaned forward, his groin pressing between her knees, his head hanging over her chest, and began massaging her neck and shoulders. She closed her eyes again, and allowed herself to get lost in his sensual massage.
Slowly, gently, he moved down her neck to her shoulders and over her shoulders to her arms, taking her bra straps with him as he moved. His movements were so slow and so gentle, that she hardly realized he'd exposed the top half of her breasts. She could feel him pressing his body against her knees, and she could feel his arousal growing. By this point, she knew exactly where he was taking her, though she no longer had the strength, or the desire, to stop him.
Jason then moved his hands to her sides, starting at her waist and moving upwards slowly, making certain that every inch of skin got the same attention. At last he reached her bra. He slid his hands under the side straps and continued his massage.
Slowly, he began easing his hands towards her breasts. He looked at her face as she opened her eyes. Without changing his pace or direction, he continued the massage.
Marsha looked up at him as his hands advanced on her breasts. She kept looking at him as he reached her mounds, as he squeezed and massaged them, and as he pinched their nipples. And she kept looking at him as she raised her arms slightly, allowing him to remove her bra, leaving her naked from the waist up.
Jason stood over his boss, gazing into her eyes. Slowly, without diverting his eyes, he leaned forward and replaced his hands on her breasts. He massaged them gently, giving each breast the same thorough attention he'd given the rest of her. It didn't take long before she was moaning softly, her eyes closed, completely absorbed in the massage.
He knew that he had her now, and that he was in control. The only question that remained was how long he played out the string. He had to admit that he was thoroughly enjoying the control he had over her; quite possibly even more than she was enjoying the massage.
Finally, he decided it was time to move on. He removed his hands and stood over her, waiting. Momentarily, she opened her eyes and gave him a questioning look. He rested his hands on her blue jean covered thighs and squeezed softly. "Should I continue?" he asked.
Why she hesitated, she wasn't sure. She didn't have any doubt that she wanted more, that she wanted him to continue. She was so aroused, and so excited, that she could barely control herself. Still, she lay silent, looking into his eyes. Perhaps she hesitated because he was her subordinate, or because he was so much younger than she was. Or perhaps it was because deep down, she knew that if she went forward, she would end up surrendering herself totally to him.
Finally, she nodded her head. "Yes."
As Jason reached for her jeans and unbuttoned them, Marsha closed her eyes and turned her head to one side, no longer able to look at him. She bit her lip as he lowered her zipper. She felt his fingers trace lightly over her thighs, still clad in blue jeans, and wander slowly downward, not stopping until he was kneeling before her. He took hold of the back of her calf and slid the sneaker from her foot, and then moved both hands to her sock and removed that. He repeated the procedure on the other foot.
Still on his knees, staring up her thighs, across her taut stomach and over her heaving breasts, he reached up and grabbed the top of her jeans. "Lift you ass."
Marsha hesitated only slightly. Deep inside, she knew that this was her last chance to stop him. But she also knew that she did not want him to stop, that she wanted him to continue, and that she wanted him to take her. Slowly, she raised her ass off the table and he began easing her pants and panties slowly over hips and down her thighs. Slowly, he eased them over the edge of the table and over her knees, before sliding them down her calves and onto the floor.
Still unable to look at him, Marsha was surprised when he stayed on his knees and began massaging her right foot as it dangled before him. She heard herself moaning quietly as he gave the foot the same loving care that he'd given the rest of her. She could feel him working his way slowly to her calf, and then up her leg, gently, but firmly kneading her muscles as he went. When he reached her knee, he moved to the other foot and started over.
When he reached her other knee, Jason stood up, placing his hands lightly on each knee. He looked down upon the naked woman and smiled. "You're very beautiful, Marsha," he said.
She turned her head upright and looked at him, but said nothing. She felt him spread her thighs apart slightly and begin massaging her right thigh. Slowly he kneaded her muscles, working his way ever so slowly upwards. She felt herself spreading her legs wider as he neared her center, and she gasped audibly as his hands brushed lightly against the folds of her pussy. She arched her back, reaching for his hand with her pussy, but the hand was already gone, moved over to the other thigh, and beginning the journey all over again.
She looked at him through eyes clouded by the long, slow build up of sexual tension, just begging to be released. She watched him as she felt him moving ever closer to her wanton womanhood. She wanted to scream out at him - Take me! Take me now! - But she kept quiet. And she waited.
Finally, he reached her pussy again. But this time, he didn't withdraw. This time, he put a hand on each thigh and spread her legs wider still, completely exposing her neatly trimmed bush. She watched him as he looked at her, his hands painfully close to the center of her passion.
He heard her gasp as he touched her clit, as he uncovered it, as he gently stroked her. He watched as her hands grabbed her tits, squeezing them roughly, while she squirmed over the table. He inserted his fingers into her dripping pussy, massaging her from the inside out, as she slowly rolled her head back and forth on the table. He pumped his fingers into her, first in, then out, until she was moaning loudly.
Then he bent over and moved his mouth to her clit, sucking on it while his fingers continued to fuck her pussy. He increased the pace as he felt her excitement growing. He continued pounding her as she closed her thighs around his head, as she thrust herself wildly upon him and came.
Marsha opened her mouth to scream as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, but no sound came out. She bucked madly on his head and fingers, squeezing him between her thighs with all her strength. And then she collapsed on the table, her chest heaving as she gasped for air.
When she finally began to calm down, she opened her eyes to find him standing between her legs. She tried to smile at him, but it was a funny smile, a smile that said she wasn't quite back to the present yet.
He smiled back at her. And then he pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it aside. She watched him, still gasping somewhat, as he unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down his legs, but not completely off.
And she smiled as she looked upon his cock for the first time, long and thick, and pointed right at her. She watched him as he lifted her legs over his shoulders and eased her body towards him until her ass rested on the edge of the table. And she moaned as he pushed his manhood into her, slowly filling her up with his meat.
With his cock buried completely in her pussy, Jason reached down and grabbed her nipples, twisting them in his fingers, pulling on them as he stood motionless above her. "From now on," he said softly, yet forcefully, "you belong to me. Do you understand that?"
Marsha lay there, moaning softly as he tugged and pulled on her nipples, his manhood buried in her pussy, motionless. Never before had she been so completely under someone else's control. It was a foreign feeling for her, not one she was used to. But she liked it. No, she loved it. And she'd never been so turned on in her life.
She looked at him and nodded her head, clearly indicating that she understood. She was his now, his to do with as he pleased, where he pleased, and when he pleased. "Please fuck me," she said, begging him with her eyes.
And fuck her he did. He thrust his meat into her as he tugged on her nipples. He grabbed her ankles from above his shoulders and spread her so she was wide open before him. He continued thrusting his meat at her, in, then out, over and over into her inflamed pussy. He listened to her moans of pleasure as she mauled her tits, and watched as she thrashed wildly upon the table.
And then Marsha wrapped her legs around his body like a vice grip, and her orgasm exploded within her. She arched her body, pulling him into her with her legs as he shot his load inside her.
And when it was over, he collapsed on top of her as they both struggled to catch their breath. She ran her fingers slowly through his hair, and then gently ran her fingernails over his back.
Finally, he stood up, with her legs still wrapped around him. He took her by her shoulders and lifted her body off the table, until her chest pressed against his and her arms wrapped around him. And then they kissed. It was a slow kiss, a soft kiss, so different then the passion that had just engulfed them.
Breaking the kiss at last, he set her back down on the table and unwrapped himself from her legs. He bent over and pulled his pants up, before leaning over and grabbing his shirt.
"I have an errand to run," he told her in answer to the questioning look on her face. "You wait here, and I'll be back in an hour." He pulled his shirt on, bent over and kissed her lightly on the lips.
And then he leaned over and picked up her pants and panties, her T-shirt, and her shoes and socks, tucked them under his arm, and started out the door. He looked back at her, at the look of shock on her face and smiled. "Don't worry," he reassured her. "I'll be back in an hour."
And then he left, closing her office door behind him.
* * *
Marsha sat there for a second, stunned, not really believing that he'd leave her there without her clothes. Then she dashed for the door, opening it just in time to see Jason walk around the corner. She stared after him for several moments, waiting for him to return. When she heard the bell for the elevator sound faintly in the distance, she closed and locked her office door.
"You son of a bitch!" she yelled out loud. Then she caught herself. She needed to be quiet in the event that someone came into the office. It was unlikely this late in the day on a Saturday, but you never knew.
She paced her office like a caged animal, unable to sit for more than a moment or two, unable to stand still. She cursed herself for taking her sweater home last month, but she hadn't worn it at work in months. Who knew that she'd end up stranded in her office without a shred of clothing?
She looked at the clock every few seconds, wondering why time was standing still, and then she paced some more.
* * *
After pressing the button to call the elevator, Jason turned around and went back to the employee lounge. The agency took up the majority of the third floor of a six-story office building in the suburbs. There had been two other people in the office that morning, but they'd left hours ago and it was highly unlikely that anyone else would come in now. If they did, however, the lounge was located halfway back to the art department, and anyone heading towards Marsha's office would have to go right past him. Despite appearances, he had no desire to see any harm come to Marsha. He just wanted a small payback for the 90-day review she'd given him.
So he sat back on the sofa and grabbed a magazine. And he waited.
* * *
It had been an hour and 15 minutes since Jason had left her, and still Marsha waited, still she paced the floor of her office. What if he didn't come back, she thought. What would she do then? She thought about calling a friend, but which friend would she want to rescue her in her present state? And how would they get into the building? The doors were always locked on weekends. Who'd let them in? The only people she knew with keys were employees, and that was out of the question.