Isabella

Isabella picked up the document from Rimmerfors' desk to make the copies he had asked for. She swung round, twirling her pale reddish short skirt to reveal the backs of her thighs as she left the Head of Missions' office. She went straight to the media room at the far wall of the open-plan office, dodging around the two interns' desks, in the process swishing her skirt seductively. Paul Rimmerfors followed this progress of the girl, mesmerised by her attractiveness. He took a few more minutes before he could pull his mind back to his work.

His concentration was broken again when her laughter rang out. The chief accountant was passing by the media room, and had stopped to share a moment with Isabella. Rimmerfors marveled at how she got along with people at all levels. Then the girl swished those so bewitching hips back to his office to bring the copied material.

"Here it is, Mr Rimmerfors!" and lay them on the corner of the desk. She turned round and walked back to the reception desk.

'Does she have to swing her skirt like that, really? She is torturing me,' he thought.

That day it seemed by her every action that she was out to get him. He thought to himself it must be because it was a Friday and she was looking forward to an amorous evening with her beau.

The following morning, he arrived in the office at 9am. Isabella, ever faithful, ever sure, had already opened the office, switched on the PABX, servers and WiFi connection ready for use. Rimmerfors tried to reconcile the two parts of the girl's personality and failed miserably. How can she be so carefree in her behaviour, yet be so reliable and dependable? He reflected that her language seemed more polished than he would have expected of an office girl. What was her background, he wondered.

He was setting out the Mission's annual measurables, which was a very involving task. The previous day despite Isabellas antics he had done a huge part of it, but he had to finish it today, as it was to be tabled at the meeting on the Monday.

Everyone left at 12:30 to start their weekend activities. Rimmerfors had a little more to do so he asked Isabella to give him some time to finish off. She smiled sweetly and said, "I am not in any hurry, Mr Rimmerfors. May I bring you something to eat from the Chicken Inn?"

He was struck by her thoughtfulness. "Yes please. Get me a medium pizza and a Diet Coke," handing her some money. "Get something for yourself, too."

She swung out of his office and out of the door in her seductive manner, leaving his thoughts scrambled. 'It was her fault I did not finish this document yesterday, and it seems today she will do the same,' he thought.

He worked feverishly, wanting to take advantage of her absence. She took about 30 minutes, probably talking to somebody at the restaurant in her usual friendly manner, and forgetting the time. But instead of feeling irritated by her long absence, he was grateful that he could get more work done.

When she came swinging through the door, his heart jumped. She went into the kitchenette, placed his food on a plate and carefully lay it on his table, this time almost tiptoeing out again. At the reception, he could see her sitting in such a way as to expose her thighs, but as the desk was covered in front, he wished the gap at the top of that covering was wider; he might be able to see more of those thighs.

Presently he got to the end of the year in his planning and now needed to make copies for the meeting's attendees. "Isabella, could I please have seven copies of this?" She sashayed in, took it from his hands and swung her hips again in that provocative manner on her way to the media room. He followed her with his eyes as he started on his pizza.

"How was your evening yesterday?" he asked when she returned with his copies.

She looked at him suddenly with puzzlement in her face. He had never been personal with her before. For some reason she could not explain, she decided to be frank with him. "I went straight home after work. It was as normal as any other." There was a forlorn note in her voice, he thought.

"And you said you were not in any hurry this afternoon either." he queried.

"Yes, I am only going back home to my small house." He thought he was wrong about her when he had thought she had an amorous evening planned.

"I am going to a new place on Magadi Road for drinks with a few friends. Would you like to join me?"

Her eyes opened wide with alarm. "Your friends? I can't fit in with them, and they would wonder what a simple office girl like me is doing in their company."

"They have never met you, and they have no clue who you are. Besides you are very smartly dressed in those linen trousers. You might find some of them want to know you better."

"Ok, then in that case, I will wait and see for myself, Mr Rimmerfors."

"From this moment until Monday in the office, drop the 'mister' business. Call me Paul."

She looked sideways, unsure about addressing her boss so familiarly. "I will try, Paul." She tried a smile.

"Great, let's go now." She cleared the plate away to the kitchenette.

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

The black car scrunched the gravel with its wheels as it entered the compound of Helios Resort on Magadi Road. It was a lonely spot far from anything else. As far as the eye could see was mile upon mile of plains, into the blue distance. It was composed of grass-thatched structures, most of which were round.

"Is this just a drinking hole...Paul?"

"Yeah, but it has other facilities besides." She raised an eyebrow at him. He chose not to respond.

Two men and two women were seated under one of the thatched 'umbrellas' by the time Isabella and Paul entered. Hands were shaken all round and seats were offered to the new arrivals.

One of the women introduced herself as Irene, an insurance salesperson from Nyeri; the other was an expatriate from Belgium named Brigid. Ernest was an expatriate from Australia, while James was a social worker from Mwatate near Mombasa. Isabella introduced herself according to the agreement made on the way here, as office manager with an international organisation; Paul was a logistics expert.

They settled down to roast meat and drinks, each to their preference. By about 7pm all of them were either drunk, or slightly so. Paul pronounced himself tipsy but below the alcohol limit, and therefore able to drive back to the city. They decided to strike camp.

When Paul tried to start the car, it would not catch. He tried everything he could and his heart fell. There was nothing like a garage anywhere near, or even a petrol station. Brigid, who seemed to have paired with James said that it would not be fair to leave the two out here in the bush.

"Let us spend the night and see what we can do in the morning. Maybe we can tow it back," she proposed.

Ernest supported her. "Even though any of our cars could tow Paul's back to the city, it would not be wise to do so at night, in our state of inebriation." Everyone laughed.

Ernest took a room with Irene; Paul with Isabella; and James with Brigid. Irene was the more excited of the lot and offered a round of drinks before bed, arguing it was too early to sleep on a Saturday. Paul, in gratitude to his friends for choosing not to leave him behind, offered another round. It was not until 11 that they managed to get into their room and Isabella hold Paul's cock, which is what she had been wanting to do all afternoon. She had kept her hands to herself on the trip from the office and considered that she behaved in an exemplary manner at the resort. She hoped none of the others had guessed what lust was lurking in her heart. Now she liked the contrast of white skin against the black of her hand.

"Isabella, do you know how hungry I have been for you since yesterday when you tantalised me in that short skirt?"

They fell upon one another in kisses and fondling. Almost without foreplay, a minute or two later Paul was aiming his cock at her cunt, poked her entrance twice or thrice before pushing himself inside her. Their clothes were scattered all over the floor; it would take some sorting in the morning to figure out which was whose!

She wailed loudly with her legs waving in the air. Kissing her boobs, he thrust hungrily, suffering from great deprivation since he had come to Nairobi from Sweden leaving family behind. He fucked her vigorously before she erupted in a most violent orgasm, screaming in her native language. Paul did not let her cool down before beginning another thrust and parry with her cunt. She wailed as if for mercy, but her legs spoke another language. Her heels were pressing on the side of his buttocks, inviting more of him into her cunt. This drove poor Paul over the edge and he roared like a trapped lion as he discharged his balls into Isabella's ripe cunt. She followed hot on his heels with another wild cry as she climaxed. She thought she had flown above the clouds.

Gradually they both came down from their private heaven, surprised at the others hunger, seeing not their own. We should have met before, my sweet Isabella! ejaculated Paul, his cock slipping out of her with a soft plop.

What a strange thing to say, when we have spent the better part of a year in the same office! she chuckled. He kissed her lips lightly, while his fingers found her nipple, twiddling it to her great pleasure. He felt his cock begin to take notice of proceedings. Lying on his side he shifted her to lie flat on her back. He then lifted her leg over his torso, opening her cunt up. He brought his cock to nose in her pubic hairs like a wild pig nosing the ground for morsels. She grabbed it, stroked it a few times and aimed it where it would do the most good. He thrust forward embedding himself inside her in a single stroke due to all the wetness resident there.

This time he fucked her languidly, almost as if he was not in the mood. But his tool was standing at full attention. He increased the speed of his thrusting while Isabella's cries rose in pitch. He felt himself approaching climax, and he held her firmly at the side of her stomach. She hit her orgasm a few seconds before he slammed into his own. They trembled against each other for long moments, his cock pulsing inside her channel whose walls clenched on him, driving him yet higher even though it was the second time he had already emptied his balls into her.