Another Blond

“Oh Hiii Cindi!” She sang-out.

“Oh hello, Ms. Henderson.” I almost stuttered, turning. I had been brushing my hair, trying to tease it up, getting it nice and fluffy the way Steven liked.

“Going out, then?” She smiled so sweetly, turning towards me, the edge of her elegant straight blond locks swirling on her delicate jaw line.

I blushed, my face warm, and stuttered. Lauren Henderson was Steven’s ex; I and had been dreading running into her somewhere in the building all week.

“Yes, right in the city; I can’t take the subway home change, and come back.” I flushed again, not knowing why I put it like that. She and Steven had cars, and lived right in the city. My ears felt hot, blood rushing the lobes, the large heavy ear hoops Steven liked so much, burning as they brushed my cheeks.

“Oh don’t worry about that, Cindi --you are looking wonderful!” She smiled again, almost helpfully, showing her perfect white teeth. The pearls on her neck, rested delicately on her collar bones.

I felt my tense body relax, a deep breath washing away the edginess. I was expecting a catty put down; Lauren Henderson, Senior VP Strategy, was famous for them all over the office. “Oh thank you Ms. Henderson.” I stopped not knowing how to go on; God Steven had dumped her only two weeks before, after that big fight they had in his office, and here I was almost giggling with her in the rest-room, as I primped for my third date with him.

But she was adjusting my strapless blouse, smiling, as I stood there, almost tottering on the new heels I had just picked out at Nine-West, after Steven had said some thing about stilettos. She moved the edge of the clingy knit top, delicately over my full breasts, “and where is he taking yoou?” She dragged out the last syllable, eyes alive with pleasure.

Maybe it is all just water-cooler bitching, I thought to myself, I don’t really know her. She could be just really nice; nice enough to make me feel alright about Steven. “Papillion.” I said a little diffidently, an upward lilt in my voice. It was really expensive; I knew because we’d been there the day before. Steven had wanted to try another place that had just been reviewed, but I practically begged to back; the mango-vodka mousse, and foie gras had been so heavenly – and knew that I could order them there again, with out asking embarrassing questions from the snotty waiter.

“Oh that’s really nice!” She exclaimed, “Did you try the truffle-carrot soup?”

I shook my head.

“Its orgasmic,” She laughed, light and tinkly, as if that was just between us girls who’d both watched Steven eat. “Just remember re-do that lovely crimson lip gloss afterwards.” She smiled, lips parting, as if remembering a old kiss.

I touched my own tongue to my puffy lips, that I had coated and re-coated with lipstick minutes ago, almost unthinkingly. All I could do was giggle.

“Have fun Cindi!” She waved prettily, before she left.

We spent a lot of time together, after that. She would sweep through from the finance wing, where Steven was a Senior VP, and stop by my cubicle in marketing, on her way back to her own huge office, and be soo nice, always complimenting on my make up or hair some thing. Then one day she almost whispered, bending low – “lets skip lunch and go shopping!”

Then she’d explain lots of stuff to me, about stores, prices, what was good quality and what was really cheap; and I wasn’t tense any more, I looked forward to us grabbing salads, and then giggling for an hour, over a scarf, or a new eyeliner for me.

Soon after she would say, when I had tried on a pair of pants, or picked up a new really light lip gloss – “No, he wouldn’t like that, I don’t think.” And then she would look at me, almost curiously, half knowingly and ask, “would he?” God I would blush, flick back my teased hair that was always in my eyes, nervously, and simper. I guess she knew what he didn’t like. The truth of it was that I didn’t know. Yes, he some times told me what he liked, it was not like he talked a lot about what he didn’t like. So I would always nod, and catch her eye, like, “of course, duh!” – and put it back on the rack, and giggle.

And then she’d point to some thing else, and laugh softly, picking it up, saying, “Now that’s what you should try on, Cindi! Its beauutiful!” And I would. Except of course, all the really nice stuff was far too expensive for me – and we always ended up at places that seemed cheap by comparison. She was so nice about the stuff at the big V-mart across the parking lot, where she never bought any thing at, of course, saying soothingly, “Oh now that really really suuits you, Cindi!”

I never really called her Lauren. I did once, kind of softly, almost like her first name was too good for me to say, and it got stuck in my throat. I don’t think she heard me, but it felt uncomfortable, like I had really over stepped a line. After that, it was easy enough not to call her any thing, while we shopped or were together, and just call her Ms. Henderson, if it was something formal in office.

It was a Thursday, when she came and touched me on the shoulder, when I was bent over the printer, my skirt hiked up at the back, trying to get the stupid thing un-jammed. I jumped back, almost yelping.

She grinned. “High-strung, today, Cindi?”

“Oh I’m so sorry Ms. Henderson, I just… Yes.” I nodded. Steven had been away since the Friday before, on a business trip to South Korea, and oh god… I was missing him. I’d started my period on Saturday; it had just finished on Tuesday. Right after it stopped was always my hottest time; even before I was seeing Steven, I always had to remember to get panty liners, or I’d soak right through to my panties. But now, after Steven, I just dripped all the time. I pressed my thighs together and blushed dark, seeing her watch my breasts heave. My stiff nipples were pressing through the thin bra cups, grazing my thin blouse. I could feel them.

“Yes I guess I’m a bit tense.” I looked down, trying to hide my blush, but felt she saw right through me.

No one had made me hot like Steven did; and the worst of it was, I didn’t even really know what it was. Of course, he was incredibly good looking, tall, broad, with really clear eyes, strong features, and wavy brown hair. He knew what he wanted; he just exuded authority. He’d just whistle, and his secretary, a really pretty girl my age called Jenny, would often be running about to get him what he needed, like his coffee or a file.

I just couldn’t believe he asked me out!

Usually, we’d see each other after work, going out to really nice a restaurant in a city for drinks and dinner, where they had these wonderfully thick table cloths, and masses of heavy silverware I never knew what to do with. I’d revel in being with him, seeing him across the table, watching his lips move, and his jaw work. Sometimes, I'd be frozen, staring at his face when he’d just look at me and smile. Then, afterwards, he’d always take be back to his room at his private club, right in the city. When he said my club, I didn’t understand at first, I thought it was, may be, a dance club, or like a strip club. But no this was really fancy, with leather arm chairs and fire places; but we didn’t linger downstairs, we went right up to his rooms there, where he said he some times slept over.

My pussy clenched, as I remembered that room.

First I let my nervousness and insecurity take over, acting like the typical done-it-all, know-it-all bitch. But he had been kind and patient with me; after I finished blowing him the first time, and looked up at his face from between his hard muscled thighs, hair sweaty on my cheeks, his cum sticky on my puffy, glossed lips, he’d just put me to work again, slowly, telling me what he liked – little licks on the half hard cock head first, then feathering his balls with kisses, sucking each one, and tonguing under, all the way to his ass crack, taking the cock again, sucking deep, this time, opening, lips pouted, keeping the cock deep in me, while I gagged softly, massaging his thickness with my throat.

When he’d been telling me what to do, like I was his secretary or something, I’d been almost offended, but then I had to remember he wasn’t some nineteen year old boy I was blowing in the car after a date at a Red Lobster. He was Steven Binghamton. And he’d just actually been seeing Lauren Henderson… and…. oh god …I felt my cunt open and gush, like his hand was on me, and I was bucking on it, like some cheap little slut. He laughed softly, later, when he saw how I’d soaked the sheet between his knees while I had been blowing him. He patted my ass, as I tried to curl up close and said – “go re-do your lipstick, and freshen up that mascara Cindi; I usually like a second suck and swallow quite quickly.”

“Oh Cindi!” Ms. Henderson was looking with amusement at my face, as I remembered, almost squirming. “Oh I know! You deserve a treat; I have one planned.” And we were off, ending up at Secret Silk.

I’d never even been inside Secret Silk, is was soo expensive, the tiny, obscenely hot lace thongs were more than a week of my pay. But Ms. Henderson really knew her way around, picking up a corset here, holding it up to my waist, then pointing to flimsy half bra and laughing softly. After she’d walked around with me, we just headed to one of their huge fitting and sitting rooms, with a sales girl who carried every thing we wanted. Unlike in V-Mart, here you could try on the panties; they had paper liners on the crotch. Ms. Henderson smirked as she turned to leave the fitting room, for me to change. “It is it a good thing those thongs are lined, aren’t they, sweetie?” I went crimson. God the things she said. And that snotty little cunt of a sales girl, just stuck her fake tits out, and giggled saying “I’m sure, Ms. Henderson.”

It was even worse when I came out to model the thong and half-bra sets for her. I was in my stilettos, of course, I was just getting used to them, after wearing them all the time for the few weeks I’d been seeing Steven, but I had never worn a thong before. They always looked…so …so slutty … I’d touched one once, at that cheap lingerie store right next to V-Mart, Next to Nothing, and my tits had just ached, and I had throbbed down there. But I didn’t know what it would do to my ass. With the heels lifting me, and the thong in my butt-crack, my backside just stuck out, cheeks apart, like I was some two-bit whore, asking for it. I really needed to finger my clit for a second. Oh God!

But she was waiting, I knew, legs crossed, fingers tapping, in the sitting room, and I had show her the stuff.

“Oh that’s hott!” she clapped her hands together. “And you’ve never worn a thong and half-bra before?” She laughed softly, and then exclaimed, “Cindi! A girl like you must. It really suits you. You’ve got a nicely filled out backside you can wiggle, and look at those tits push out! That’s the look you want with those stiff nipples.” I blushed, trying to cover my throbbing nipples, exposed in the half bra; raising my hands that were crossed over tiny triangle at my crotch.

She looked down there. ““Oh your not shaved for a thong, are you?” She grinned. “That is so cute and freshh!”

I stuttered. “I must trim, Ms. Henderson. I was meaning to…”

Well, trim and shave on the edges of the triangle of course, sweetie, but right at the top there, where your fur shows right above the itty-bitty lace-triangle?…” She pointed. “Well neaten it, but don’t shave it, let it be, it is just such great contrast with your dyed blond hair, isn’t it. So slutty! He’ll like it.”

I tottered in my heels, claves tightening, butt cheek quivering, half wanting to cry, half wanting to storm out of there, but all I could do was nod. My pussy was spasming.

Later, after the sales girl had put every thing back, Ms. Henderson explained, “Yes dear, all this is far too expensive for you, of course. But now you know what to get, just go to that cheap store all the other girls go to, what is it now? Right -- Next to Nothing, and get the stuff. He’ll love it.”

I wore the stuff I got at Next to Nothing in bed that night. I showered, perfumed, and made-up like Steven liked, and then wore the pink thong and half bra, getting on my hands and knees, before I started fingering myself.

I always fingered myself like this now, no other position was as good. My ass lifted, back arched, tits touching the sheets, I thought of the way Steven fucked me, especially the first time. It was like our second date; that was the evening he’d taken me to Papillion the first time. And he’d paid for everything, I couldn’t even bare to think how much it had been. When we were back at the club and I sucked and swallowed the way he’d taught me the day before, and I must have done it good, because he just turned me over, strong, soft hands moving my body the way he wanted, and started thrusting. I just whimpered and bucked, tossing my mane with each thick thrust that really stretched me. Then, he began to tap my ass lightly, and after a few taps, he slapped my ass hard. God.. it stung, it hurt, and tried to turn my head back to say, “Please Steven, your hurting me, please?” But I couldn’t. Somewhere from deep inside, me, someplace I didn’t even know about, came a grunt, and soft squeal, and then another grunt mixed in with the squeal. It kept happening each time he slapped me, I couldn’t hold back the sound, I just couldn’t, it just bubbled out. So much so, that he chuckled, and said “Bite on your hair Cindi, you getting too loud.”

I pushed aside the thong crotch, panting, softly moaning, on the bed, fingering, hand pressing between my legs, haunches shuddering. I came, still longing for Steven’s slaps.

It was on Monday that Steven came back to office. I hadn’t expected phone calls, or emails when he was away, because he’d said that keeping in touch was always hard when he was traveling, and focusing on the deals that were being discussed. But he had came in that morning, and I knew because that bimbo-blond secretary of his, Jenny, in her tiny slutty skirt was just gushing at water cooler about some thing he’d got her from Korea, but he hadn’t even buzzed me. I was so nervous, wondering if he was mad about something, or even if I was his girl friend any more. Of course, he could be way way busy; and since I was in marketing, it wasn’t like he needed to see me officially. Usually though, he always found some excuse to get me to come over to his lovely corner office that overlooked the park, so that we could just talk.

It was nearly lunch time when he buzzed, asking me to bring over some sales figures. I was so excited, I rushed to the rest room, fluffing and teasing my hair, that I had done a shade lighter over the week end, touching up my lips and eyes, worrying if my lips were moist enough. But that wasn’t the biggest deal: I was wearing my new thong and half-bra under my skirt and top, and God I was so nervous, hoping he’d like it.

When I minced into his office, trying not to meet that bitch Jenny’s eye, my hips swaying, bust out, the way he liked, his back was turned to the door, feet on the sill, looking out over the huge picture windows, phone cradled to his ear. He was taking notes; it seemed like a really serious business call, because when I went around the desk to catch his eye, he smiled, but motioned me to wait with his hand. The call went on, and then he just pointed again, getting me to kneel in front of him. I’d never done it in the office before, not his, not any ones, but he’d been away so long, and I missed him so much. And oh God, I was so grateful I was still seeing him.

His cock was deep in my throat, when he said on the phone, “Right, we will wait for the numbers on that one, then. Ookay. ” I whimpered softly, thinking, oh at last, he’ll talk to me now, but then his tone changed, still on the same call it seemed, and said “Oh yes.. great..Yes, yes … right here, yes.. Doing.. You know!!” He chuckled, and sighed, and his body shifted slightly, and I cupped his balls gently, massaging very slowly the way he liked. He laughed low on the phone, “Now?” He stopped as if considering. And then “ …Ok,” He laughed again. “Sure!” And put the phone down.

I moved my lips down the shaft, releasing him softly, waiting to talk, as I feathered his balls with kisses. I looked up, then, at his stunningly handsome face, the smooth powerful set of his mouth, and gray of his temples. He frowned at me.

“Suck Cindi.” He sounded annoyed and I tensed up, taking the heavy cock deep again, throat working.

It was then that she walked in, I could hear the swish of the long, beautifully cut skirts she always wore. “Oh Stevie!” I heard her exclaim, and then in baby girl voice, “Kissi, kiss?”

He half turned his torso, and I saw them kiss with my upturned eyes --softly, deeply, tongues working together until she moaned softly, and his cock was moving in my throat, pulsing, shooting, and my throat was working to swallow the way he liked.

It was after I had cleaned him, and was mopping my lips with a tissue, that I realized they were going out to lunch, hand in hand, like the old friends and lovers they were. I should have slapped him, thrown some thing at her, and flounced out but I didn’t; all I could think of my re-doing my lips gloss for later. My thighs were trembling, and my Next to Nothing thong was stuck to my freshly trimmed pussy with hot juice.

“I simply love her hair, Stevie!” Ms. Henderson had her hand on waist. “Oh you know what! She has a little surprise for you.”

My hand went unthinking to the zipper of my skirt. I so wanted him to see what I had on.

Steven looked at her and grinned as if knew what it was. “Later Cindi,” he said, “I may have some time after lunch.”

I zipped up, with a pout, adjusting the thong in my butt-crack.

“And Cindi?” Ms. Henderson had that smile in her voice. “While Mr. Binghamton and I are at lunch, would you just grab a salad sweetie, and take out my dry cleaning? It is in a brown paper bag in my office, my girl Traci will let you in.”

I stuttered, and then nodded, still feeling the last of Steven’s seamen in my mouth. It was stringy in my throat. “Yes Ms. Henderson.”

“Take it to Super-Clean now, not that other place, and go over each item with the girl there. They are all really expensive body chemises from Secret Silk; so have her check them and make notes, if there are any runs or marks.” She smiled helpfully. “They are very careful there, not like other place, Clean-Right,” she said as if we were, almost, still girls together.

“Oh wow, Ms. Henderson, I didn’t know!” I simpered trying to toss my fluffy, teased hair out of my eyes again.

“Come Stevie,” she whispered, and I watched as she licked his ear, her silky natural tresses caressing his neck, her slim hand stroking his shoulders.