Fringe Benefits

Kanti is our senior accountant and is impressively good at her job. Being from India, her English can be a little difficult to understand, especially when she gets excited or upset. She stands about 5' 6" and is remarkably skinny. Her breasts are small, which fits her small frame perfectly. She has medium-dark skin, high cheek bones, a well-defined chin with a dimple in the middle, and sunken brown eyes. Her hair is dyed a reddish-brown color. I can tell because her gray roots appear from time to time. She's about the same age as me and also married. One final note, I've wanted to have sex with her for as long as I've known her.

About a month ago, I made the decision to retire from the engineering firm at the tender young age of 58. I have been with the firm for 35 years. Since my last day is today (and this narrative is my last unofficial act before I turn in my laptop), the party was held yesterday afternoon. There was plenty of booze and a buffet of finger food. It was bittersweet as I spoke to each of the nearly 50 people in attendance, some of whom I had worked with for as long as I had been with the company.

As time flew by and the crowd thinned, I noticed Kanti sitting near a corner of the conference room nursing a glass of red wine. She was wearing sandals on her feet and a long. sleeveless dress that extended down to her ankles. As I sat down next to her, she straightened up her posture and looked at me with a smile on her face.

"Are you happy to be retiring?" she asked in her thick accent.

"Very much so," I replied, "but I will certainly miss some of the people here. I'll certainly miss you, that's for sure. Heck, you and I worked on a project when we were both of a rather junior rank. Now look at us."

"Those were fun times."

"I'll say. Remember that supplier issue we had? You were tough as nails on those guys and threatened to call in a government audit. That woke 'em up. We should have had celebratory sex after that one," I said in jest. Hey, I'm retiring, so what can they do to me now for a little sexual inuendo?

Kanti, however, appeared to completely disregard the comment as she looked at me steadily with her slightly inebriated brown eyes and asked, "didn't you recently get a new love seat in your office?"

"Yeah," I said, stunned by the change in conversational direction, "the one that was in there when I took over the office was worn out. Why do you ask?"

"Do you ever wonder why it was so worn out?"

"I hadn't given it any thought, actually," I said as I quickly saw the new direction in our conversation. "What's your theory?"

"The last occupant of your office seemed to have a lot to celebrate," she said still looking me steadily in the eyes. Then her eyes began to sparkle, and her lips drew up into a devious smile. "Don't you have something to celebrate?"

My mouth went dry, and I completely lost my ability to talk.

"Maybe," she continued, "we should celebrate that victory over our supplier now. It's never too late, is it?"

I looked around and noticed a couple of people still talking in a corner across the room. I didn't think any of them would even notice if I left, let alone care, so I stood up and offered Kanti my right hand. "Would you like to accompany me to my office to continue this discussion?" I asked hoarsely. Her smile seemed to broaden as she placed her left hand, with prominent wedding ring, in mine. She stood up, I escorted her out of the conference room, and we made our way to my office.

I opened the door and, stepping inside the office ahead of her, turned on the lights. My desk is directly in front of the door, a leather love seat is against the wall on the left, and a small table with two chairs is on the right. Kanti's hips swayed as she walked over to the desk, turned around, and rested her small, but firm, ass on the edge of my desk. She folded her arms across her small chest and continued to smile in that wicked way as I turned and locked the door.

When I turned back around, Kanti was in the process of removing her dress. She had pulled the hem above her knees and the hem was continuing the climb as the material bunched up around her thin waist. Oncer her beige granny-panties were exposed, she grasped the hem and whisked it up and over her head, revealing a beige tank top undershirt with no bra. Her nipples were clearly poking through the wispy material. I walked up to her as she tossed her dress on the small table and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Her lips parted and accepted my tongue.

After pulling her up into an embrace and playing tonsil hocky for a few seconds, I started kissing down the side of her neck, saying as I moved, "I've wanted to do this for years."

She pushed me out to arm's length and looking straight into my eyes asked, "Why didn't you say something? I was ready for that celebratory sex when we closed out that contract."

"You're married."

"So are you."

"Well," I stammered, "you're also remarkably competent at your job and we've always had a good working relationship. I was afraid of endangering that and I certainly didn't want to risk getting hit with a sexual harassment complaint."

"I appreciate your professionalism," she said as she stepped around me, pulled out her phone, and stood by the table. "Give me just a second and then we're going to fuck."

Kanti was always a very direct individual, but geez. I stood gaping at her with my mouth open as she pressed her finger on her phone a couple of times and put it to her ear. After a few seconds she began speaking in what I assume was her native language. She paced in a small circle as she conversed, I assumed, with either her husband or her son. I just leaned back against my desk and ogled her underwear-clad body. While she continued her conversation, she sauntered over to me and rubbed her left hand around my crotch, feeling the solid boner under my slacks. Then she motioned with her hand and mouthed the words, "take them off." I readily complied, pulling my shirt out as I kicked off my shoes, unbuttoning and removing the shirt, then removing my pants and underwear in one swift motion. Finally, she motioned for me to go over and sit on the love seat. Like a little lost puppy, I complied.

She listened to the other person for a few seconds then, covering the microphone, asked me, "Would you mind if my husband watched?"

"Not at all," I replied with a grin. Being a stag husband myself to a beautiful vixen, I could fully understand his desire to watch me fuck his wife. "How are you going to manage it, though?"

She held up a finger as a request for me to wait while she spoke a few final words, pressed her finger on her phone a few more times, flipped it half-way open, and set it up on the table so that the camera was pointing at me sitting in the center of the love seat.

Kanti then turned toward me and, looking over her shoulder, asked in English, "Can you see and hear me, Ramji?"

"Yes love," was the heavily accented male response.

"This is Jim," Kanti said loudly as she stood facing me, crossed her arms, grabbed the hem of her tank top, and pulled it up and over her head.

"Hi Jim," Ramji said.

"Hey!" I replied. I couldn't think of anything else to say to a guy whose wife I was about to fuck.

Kanti's hips swayed gracefully as she sauntered over to me and knelt between my legs. Her small tits looked magnificent with her small dark areolas tightened into small quarter-sized circles and her nipples standing out like she had pencil erasers stuck in the middle of each areola. I reached out and put my hands on her breasts, but she pushed them gently aside, bent her head down, and placed her lips around the knob of my erect cock.

After sucking on the knob and running her tongue around the head for a couple of seconds, she lifted her head up and turned back toward the phone and said, "I don't know if you saw his penis, but it's a good size. I think I'm going to enjoy it."

"I had a brief view of it just before you stepped into the middle of my view. You'll enjoy it, I'm sure." Ramji's disembodied voice replied from the phone. "By the way, did I ever tell you what a nice ass you have."

Kanti grinned as she licked up the shaft of my dick and replied, "Not nearly enough."

"You know what?" I asked while she went back to licking all around the shaft of my cock, "I've heard you tell people that they could kiss your ass, but you've never told me to kiss your ass." I know. Lame, but I wasn't thinking with my brain, just my penis.

She grinned at me, stood up, turned around, wiggled her panty-covered ass in my face, and said, "Kiss my ass."

I reached up, grasped the waistband of her panties, and yanked them down to her ankles. Next, I grabbed a butt cheek in each hand and planted multiple kisses all over her tight brown ass. Then I reached between her legs with my left hand, palm up, and placed it on her pubic mound. Her hair was soft and slightly damp. I pulled my hand back toward me and ran my fingers along her open pussy lips, gathering its slick moisture on my fingers and wedding ring. She moaned and pressed her pussy into my hand, gently rocking her hips as she did so, but before I could turn her around to see her beautiful body, lick her luscious nectar, or tweak her little nipples; she pushed my hand away, grabbed my cock, and guided it into her pussy as she sat down.

"Oh my gaaaawwwwd!" she exclaimed as she threw her head back and began bouncing up and down. She was tight, but oh so wet! I grasped her hips and pushed her up and down on my cock, aiding her rhythmic ascent and descent. Each time she bottomed out, she let out a long grunt, "uuuuuuhhhhhh, uuuuuuuhhhhhh, uuuuuuhhhhhh..." You get the picture. We kept up a steady pace for several minutes when I could feel myself starting to close in on my climax.

"Uh, Kanti?" I interjected on her upswing.

"What?" She replied on her downswing. "Uuuuuuhhhhhh!"

"I'm about to cum!"

"So, cum. Uuuuuuhhhhhh!"

"Inside you?"

"Ooooohhhhhhhh Gaaaaaaawwwwwwd Yeeeeeeeeees!" She suddenly went stiff, her toes curled inside her sandals (which she never removed), and her legs started shaking. She also clamped her pussy around my cock and I, in turn, erupted inside her. She collapsed back against me, and I maintained a good grip on her tits as I spurted five or six jets of semen into her pussy.

"Oh, wow!" I heard Ramji exclaim over the phone. "I can see cum pushing out of your pussy." Indeed, after a couple of seconds I could feel it dripping into my pubic hair.

What a mess this was going to be. Luckily the love seat is leather, so any cum that drips there won't leave a stain. There's also no carpet on the floor, so any cum that finds its way there can be easily wiped up. The most interesting part was that as soon as my cock went completely flaccid and slid out of her, Kanti got up quickly and put her panties back on as fast as she could.

"What's the hurry?" I asked.

"Ramji. Tell him." She Replied.

From the phone Ramji said, "I want her full when I reclaim her. I assume, darling, that you are coming straight home after cumming on Jim's cock?" He laughed, then added, "Sorry. I couldn't resist the pun."

"I'm on my way, love." Kanti replied as she hurriedly put her tank top and dress on, "as soon as I get dressed."

She picked up her phone and disabled the video feed and the speaker. She spoke a few more words in their native language and disconnected the call. Stepping up to me, she kissed me on the mouth and said, "Thanks for the foreplay. Now I need to get home for the main event with my husband." Then she turned and walked quickly out the door, car keys in her hand.

I sat dazed for a few minutes, then, after putting my clothes back on, I used some napkins out of the break room to clean up a few drops of semen from off the floor. The love seat was clean. Then I called my wife. When she answered, I said, "Hey Babe! I'm coming home. You're not going to believe what just happened to me."

Ah, the benefits of an open marriage.