Console Me, Please

I like to flirt. But then, every woman does, at some level. There's nothing like knowing that you've got a man or two captive to your looks, hanging on your every word while thinking about bedding you.

I dress accordingly. Professionally, but with a strong hint of my assets. Tight blouses to reveal my adequate D-cups, and medium-length skirts to show off my calves and hide my best asset - my thighs - without a panty line in sight. It was probably only a matter of time, but you know that, know what happened, or we wouldn't be talking. You like to watch, right? Like to listen and smell and taste the air as a woman lays herself bare before you?

Well listen away, because I need to get it off my chest, and I can't tell anyone else. Do you mind if I undo a button or two? It's hot in here, and it's going to get a lot hotter before we're through.

He came into the office when I was taking a break. For me, that meant a cup of tea and a gossip about my PA's weekend conquests, so it's not surprising that I blushed. He wasn't our usual guy, looked quite the polished professional himself, all buff physique and tailored suit, which was unusual for our mail boys, to say the least!

He knocked politely, then entered with the armful of packages, and I appreciated the curve of his arse as he bent over to assign them to pigeonholes. That should have been the end of it. I mean, I'm married, I don't actually cheat on Jim, just tease a little, but he turned around and caught me perving at him.

I blushed again and stammered, "Sorry, I know it's rude to stare, but you're... You're not our regular mail guy, are you?"

He laughed, and dusted himself off. "No, didn't mean to confuse you! I'm Andrew, from up on six." Sixth floor was the partners' level, the big shots. "Tony, your usual delivery guy, had a wee accident in my office - my fault, I'm afraid - so I offered to complete his morning run. I don't mind admitting it's harder than I expected, and I'm not exactly dressed for the occasion!"

I didn't know how to respond to this: the corporates weren't known for their compassion or their sense of humour. My mouth, on the other hand, was still in weekend mode, and decided to run ahead of me, "Well, if you're too sweaty in that suit, me and Sally here don't mind if you need to strip down for a minute or two."

I trailed off on the last word, already kicking myself, but he laughed again, threw me a wink and smiled. "That's a very tempting offer, Ms. Caraway, but I wouldn't want to embarrass myself in front of such pretty ladies."

He knew my name! My skin felt like it was contemplating a permanent shade of red, and I stumbled through the rest of the conversation without fantasising. Not a single thought. And I didn't check out his arse again as he walked from the office.

It was two days before the call came. Sally told me I'd been summoned upstairs, and I stood in the elevator trying to imagine my transgression. It was only when I arrived that I realised whose office I was heading to.

"It's you!" I exclaimed, fully back in schoolgirl mode as I entered his office.

"Last time I checked," he replied, smiling that dazzling smile, "Close the door, would you? This is a... sensitive matter."

My heart thunked up into my mouth. I'd browsed the odd bit of porn on my breaks, but everyone does that, right? I closed the door and tried not to tremble. I suddenly became aware of how cold it was in his office. I was wearing a thin bra, and my nipples strained up against the fabric, forming obvious points on my white blouse. "Is this a disciplinary matter?" I breathed, trying to prepare arguments against an undisclosed charge.

"Well, that all depends on you. Would you like it to be?"

I stopped, confused. His voice had deepened at this last, sounding primal and raw, and I stood there, unsure how to continue. He saved me the trouble.

"Ms. Caraway, I'll be honest: it's like this. I couldn't help but notice that you're an incredibly attractive woman, and I have what we might call boundary issues. Now you're completely free to go back to your office and continue with your workday, and nothing more will ever be said or done." He paused, letting me take that in, "Or, if you are as excited as you appear, and would enjoy a little extra-curricular activity, I would love to have you... strip for me."

"Strip?" I stammered, still coming to terms with the conversation.

"For a start," he smiled, and I could see the naked lust all over his face. "We can go as far as you like, but I suspect you'd love to show me more of your body." He indicated my erect nipples, and I felt the first thrill of illicit desire.

I know it was wrong. My husband's face floated across my vision, even as I began to dance, began to unbutton my blouse and slide my hand inside.

Then I imagined my husband's hand, even as my own slipped into a cup of my bra, and gently kneaded my nipple. It was so hard that it hurt, and I let out a tiny squeal of pleasure and pain, as I tugged and worked at it, forcefully pushing the bra aside to reveal the large, dark areola between my fingers.

I opened my eyes, and watched him watching me, one hand already stroking the front of his trousers. Still massaging my breast, I trailed my other hand slowly down my body, squeezing it under the waistband of my skirt, and began to play with myself. He couldn't see anything, of course, just my hand slipping around beneath the grey fabric, but he began to pant, and I could now see the visible bulge of his manhood through his trousers.

My pussy was already soaking wet, and I plunged my fingers in and out of it, using the juices to lubricate my bulging clit, which begged to be rubbed. I gently began to tease myself, closing my eyes and writhing as I felt his eyes upon me.

Then I felt more than that, as a large, warm hand tugged mine away from my breast, and a rough tongue began to lap at my nipple. I shoved myself against him, squealing again at the thrill, and almost tore his shirt from his shoulders.

His hands moved down then, and unzipped my skirt. It fell to the floor, revealing my naked vagina, my fingers still plunging in and out of that wet orifice, rubbing my clitoris harder and harder as I began to experience my first orgasm. His finger took the place of my own, and I came thunderously at the first unfamiliar touch to my most intimate regions.

The next minutes were a blur, as we ripped clothing from each other and explored our bodies. His cock was thick and hard by then, jutting from a sculpted body and ready for attention. I went down on him even as he continued to finger me, our bodies sprawled over the leather top of his desk.

My mouth ached as I stretched it far enough to accommodate the bulging organ, but I took him entirely inside me, first stimulating him with my lips and the tip of my tongue, then sucking slowly down the shaft, my tongue rippling underneath and causing him to groan. I could already taste his pre-cum, and he swelled up larger still as I licked and sucked at him.

I felt his strong hands gripping me by the hips, lifting and turning me so that he could lower my dripping vulva to his waiting mouth. As I continued to pleasure him, his hot tongue began to lap at my pussy, thrusting between the lips and making me squirm with sensations I hadn't felt in forever.

I ground my pelvis down against his mouth, impaling myself on that slippery tongue, as he continued to lick me to climax after climax. I screamed around the enormous cock still filling my mouth, and soon I felt it tense, as his own orgasm approached. I tightened my lips, squeezing down hard as I slid back and forward along its length, sucking and sucking until his entire body tensed and he sprayed an eternity of semen down my throat. I swallowed and continued to suck until he had stopped, then I licked my slow way off his member, and lifted my pussy away from his mouth, still shaking from my own last orgasm.

We were silent as we got dressed, then I returned to my office as though nothing had happened.

That's about it, really. That's the story so far. But the thing is, I know he's going to call me again, and he knows my weakness. Now that I've cheated once, the barrier is going to be lower next time, and it feels so dirty, so wrong, and I don't even care.

Take now, for example. I can see you're aroused, can see you liked to listen.

And I know you're my husband's best friend, I know you're married too, but I want a good hard cock inside me, need to fuck away this shame, and if you don't bend me over your table and take me this instant, I'm going to scream.