Jenny from the Office Block

After a particularly satisfying lunch, I enjoy a productive afternoon, speeding through my work and continuing to check Jenny out whenever she passes my desk. She busts me near the end of the day, turning around with the subtlest of smiles. Women's intuition? She probably knew all along.

I get a text as I'm packing away.

Are you busy tonight?

I break into a smile.Why?

Because I'm not done with you.

Is once not enough? ;)

What can I say, I have a voracious appetite.

Then let's get you sated.

I'll meet you at the tube.

Still with the cloak and dagger, but I can hardly complain when she's asking for round two. I leave the office and arrive at the tube station to find her already there.

'Someone's eager,' I say.

'Are you complaining?'

'Most definitely not.'

'Good. Then let's go.'

I grab her arm when she makes for the eastbound line. 'I think it's only fair we go to my place this time.'

She hesitates. 'Won't your housemates be there?'

'Not for a while, I'm always the first home. None of them work with us if that's what you're worried about.'

She smiles. 'Alright. As long as you've got your own room and you don't have a bunk bed.'

'Very funny.'

*

We arrive at my place nearly an hour later. As soon as I open the front door, pop music greets us from upstairs.

'Shit,' I say. 'That'll be Cheryl. She must've had the afternoon off.'

I expect Jenny to be annoyed, but her expression is closer to amusement.

'It doesn't exactly set the mood,' she says.

'Think of it as a chance to expand your tastes. Come on, I'll give you a quick tour.'

I take her past the living room and into the kitchen.

'Ooh, I'm impressed,' she says. 'I expected the kitchen of a bunch of twenty-somethings to be a mess.'

'I just keep surprising you, don't I?'

She looks back through the hall with a wicked smile. 'Are you positive it's only Cheryl in the house?'

'I think so. Why?'

She closes the kitchen door and pushes me against it.

'What are you—?'

'Shh,' she says, putting a finger to my lips. 'It's your turn to get pushed against a door.'

She crouches on her haunches and yanks down my trousers faster than I could have done myself. The music continues to blare as she takes my cock in her mouth, giving me no chance of hearing Cheryl if she comes down the stairs.

As Jenny gets to work, I wouldn't care if she did. She sucks me hard in seconds, not letting the voice of Dua Lipa hamper her skills. I look down at her head bobbing under my coat, scarcely able to believe it. None of my exes would have done something like this, and they were all outwardly more confident than Jenny. They say it's always the quiet ones—maybe there's something to it.

She stands, leaving me wet and sloppy, continuing the fun with her hand. 'Let's take this somewhere more private.'

With the eagerness of a puppy knowing it's about to be fed, I pull up my trousers and lead her upstairs, taking care to be extra quiet as we pass Cheryl's door. Luckily she doesn't emerge, and I sneak Jenny to my room without anyone being the wiser.

She goes straight back to my cock, keeping it hard as we shed our clothes. When she whips off her top to reveal a white bra, I can't help but chuckle.

'What?' she says.

'Doesn't exactly match the knickers.'

She unhooks it with a smile, allowing it to fall to the floor. 'Problem solved. Now get on the bed.'

'Are you giving me orders in my own house?'

'Yes, because I didn't get to cum earlier. So I'll repeat: Get. On. The. Bed.'

Not needing to be told a third time, I lie back, stark naked. She puts on a show in removing her underwear, imparting a sexy jig in her hips as she slides them down her legs before tossing them onto my chest. Naturally, I pick them up, and my cock swells when I realise they're damp. With ravenous eyes, she climbs on the bed and straddles my hips, flattening my longing erection against my stomach. Taking my hands, sharing a grip on the garment that started this whole thing off, she grinds.

I've never felt so willing to be used. As her breathing quickens, giving way to soft moans and then yearning whimpers, it's clear she only has one outcome in mind. I'm nothing more than a tool, a living dildo for her pleasure. There's no sentiment, no emotion; nothing about me matters but the hard cylinder between my legs she can rub her clit on.

And rub she does, causing me mild discomfort as she pushes me into the bed. Not that I care; the sight and sensation of her on top of me provides perfect compensation. Her breasts sway, bumping together like two peach pendulums; her dishevelled hair whips at her face; and her creamy thighs bring a pleasant warmth to my waist. Tightening her grip on my hands, she rocks faster upon discovering an angle she likes, no longer caring that we're not alone. For the first time, I'm thankful for Cheryl's music as a means of drowning out her groans, and when she tenses, I know what's coming. She bucks into me a final time then lifts her hips, dousing my cock, stomach, and thighs with an incredible squirt before collapsing beside me.

'Feel better?' I ask as she catches her breath.

'Much better. I've needed that since lunchtime.'

'Believe me, I could tell.'

She giggles, then catches me looking down at my cock, glistening with her pussy juice and still granite-hard. 'Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you.' She reaches for me and strokes. 'Cum for me, sweetheart.'

Her words combine dreamily with her hand, and I close my eyes to let the sensation take over. 'Keep talking.'

'Ooh, you like it when I talk dirty. I want your load, baby.'

'Jenny...'

'Shoot it from your huge, hard cock.'

'Jenny...'

'Every single drop.'

'Fuuuck.'

It splashes all over my stomach and chest: thick, abundant, and warm. I try not to groan in spite of the music, instead kissing her as she strokes me through the pleasure. I'm left a carnal canvas, covered in both our orgasms while she remains dry.

'Was making me a mess your plan all along?' I ask.

'That's what you get for dragging me into a toilet stall.'

'You liked it, though.'

'Ditto for you just now.'

'Fair point. Do you want to stay over? I could cook us some dinner.'

She smiles. 'It's sweet of you to offer, but I should go. I can't exactly go to work tomorrow in the same clothes—especially the underwear. Speaking of which, do you mind if I have them back?'

I look at the crumpled ball in my hand. 'I was hoping you'd let me keep them,' I joke. Well... half-joke.

'You'll see them again, sweetheart. That's a promise.'

I chuckle.

'What?' she asks.

'You keep calling me "sweetheart".'

'Do I?'

'Um-hmm. I've never had a pet name before.'

'I have to call my pet something.'

'Is that all I am to you?'

'Well you do come on command.'

'I walked into that one, didn't I. Do you want a shower before you go?'

'I'll be fine. Besides, I think you need one more than I do.'

She kisses me then starts getting dressed, leaving me with a knot in my stomach as I watch her from the bed. I don't want her to go, but it's a feeling I'll have to get used to, knowing her and I probably won't last.

She smiles at me. That cute, irresistible smile. 'Penny for your thoughts?'

'Nothing interesting.' I wipe myself clean and throw on a pair of jogging bottoms and a t-shirt. 'Before you go...'

I kiss her lips, pulling her by the arse as far into me as physics will allow. She seems taken aback at first, but then wraps her arms around my neck, melting into a moment she hadn't expected. It goes on for some time, and I have no desire for it to end as I relish her lips and tongue, ensuring we'll be able to taste each other long after she leaves. I bite her bottom lip as we part, lingering on it for a fervent few seconds.

'Wow, that was intense,' she says. 'Are you sure there isn't something on your mind?'

'Yeah, just being a good pet.'

We creep out of my room, still trying to be as quiet as possible. It's all going to plan until, when we're halfway downstairs, Charlie arrives home from work.

'Alright Callum?' he says, although he's clearly looking at Jenny.

'I'm good, mate. This is Jenny, my colleague.'

'Nice to meet you,' she says.

'Likewise.'

'I'll see you tomorrow, Callum,' Jenny says, passing Charlie on her way out.

I close the door and jog back upstairs before he can say anything. It's not that I'm unwilling to talk about it, I just need to freshen up first. I take a shower, put on fresh clothes, then go to the kitchen to start dinner.

'I take it that's her,' Charlie says.

'Yeah.'

'I can see why you like her.'

'It's not just that.'

'So you've got it bad, huh?'

'Worse than I like to admit.'

'I'm not having a go, but are you sure the MILF thing isn't just a novelty?'

'I told you not to call her that. She's not a fetish.'

He holds up his hands. 'My bad, I didn't mean anything by it. I'm sure she's nice, but it's strange to see you with someone so much older. What would you get from being with her long-term?'

I sit at the table with a sigh. 'Christ, that sounded like something my mum would say.'

'So would mine if I brought a thirty-nine-year-old home.'

'I'm not saying you don't have a point, but the more time I spend with her, the less I think it matters.'

As Charlie plates up his dinner and joins me at the table, Dua Lipa finally stops, replaced by the unmistakable clunking of Cheryl coming downstairs. She breezes into the kitchen.

'Hi Chez,' Charlie says.

'Hiya, how are you both?'

'I'm better than Callum. He's having some trouble with the ladies.'

'Oh really?' she says with an intrigued smile. 'What kind of trouble?'

'I wouldn't call it "trouble",' I say. 'He's exaggerating, as usual.'

'A conundrum then,' Charlie clarifies.

'Anything I can offer a woman's perspective on?' Cheryl asks.

I chuckle. Why do people always make others' love lives their business? Because it's fun, I suppose—I can't say I've never done it.

'I like her,' I say, 'but I'm not sure if she's on the same page.'

'Why not?' she asks.

'There's quite a big age gap. She's thirty-nine.'

'Forget about age difference; how does sheact? Does she go out of her way to spend time with you? Does she share intimate details about herself? Does she drop hints about the future?'

'Yes, yes, and not really.'

'Well, that doesn't necessarily mean she's not thinking about it. She might be having the same uncertainties you are.'

'You're not exactly clearing this up, Chez.'

She shrugs. 'What can I say, women are complex. From what you've told me, it sounds like she's into you in more than just a casual way.'

'So what are you saying?'

'I'm saying, what have you got to lose? If you like her, you should go for it.'

*

Friday finally arrives. Since our Monday tryst, we resumed our policy of keeping or distance at the office, so I'm ready and rearing to make up for it. I dress a little smarter than usual, and I'm pleased to see that she's done the same. Nothing crazy, just a casual dress and a little more mascara, but it's the most made-up I've ever seen her. We leave the office separately at the end of the day and meet at our usual pub.

'You scrub up well,' I say.

'Thanks. You don't look so bad, yourself.'

'I don't usually make this much effort. You should consider yourself lucky.'

She smiles. 'I'll decide if I'm lucky when I see where you're taking me.'

'No pressure then. Drink?'

'Gin and tonic.'

'Coming up.'

We kill an hour before dinner, during which Jenny shows me pictures of her trip to Thailand. As she plays virtual tour guide, telling me about the various locations, my thoughts wander to how nice it would be to go on a trip with her. I don't say as much in case tonight doesn't go as planned, but it's yet another indication of where my mind's at. After a second round, we head to the restaurant, a laid back Italian place in Soho.

'Not the most upmarket,' I say as we arrive, 'but I hope you'll like it.'

She stops me and gives me a kiss—our first not behind closed doors. 'It's perfect.'

I hold the door open for her (who said chivalry was dead?), then a waitress seats us and brings over two menus. After she leaves to fetch our drinks, Jenny glances around at the other tables.

'Is everything alright?' I ask. 'You seem a little on edge.'

'Yeah, I was just... never mind.'

'Looking at the age difference of other couples?'

She smiles sheepishly. 'You got me. Sorry, I couldn't help it.'

'Don't worry about it, no one cares. And if they do, they aren't giving their own date the attention they should be.'

'You're right. You'll have my undivided attention from now on.'

'Good. So what do you fancy? Other than me, obviously.'

'Obviously. I'm going to go for the tortellini.'

'Decisive.'

'I'm a woman who knows what she wants.'

She couldn't have given me a better segue into asking about us. I'd been hoping to wait until later in the evening, but presented with the opportunity, I may as well get it over with. The waitress comes back with our drinks, takes our orders, then heads back to the kitchen.

'Speaking of knowing what you want,' I say, 'whatdo you want?'

'What do you mean?'

'This. Me and you. What do you want from it?'

She takes a sip of her wine. 'What's brought this on?'

'I've been thinking about it for the last couple of weeks. At first I thought it would be just a bit of fun, but it feels like more than that now.'

She doesn't reply straight away, and I can't decipher her expression. Maybe she's working out how to let me down gently. Shit, this was a bad idea! Why couldn't I have kept my mouth shut and enjoyed a nice meal? I should have at least waited until dessert to prevent the whole thing being awkw—

'I think it's more than that, too.'

I almost knock over my beer, not sure I heard right. 'Really?'

She smiles and nods. 'I talked to Portia about us in Thailand. She said I was both lucky and crazy in case you're wondering.'

I relax in my chair, the tension in my body suddenly gone. 'What made you talk to her?'

'I realised I missed you while I was away. It bothered me that I wasn't going to see you that Friday.'

The waitress arrives with our meals. Jenny's tortellini looks nice, but nothing beats a hearty beef lasagne. She sprinkles parmesan over both, then leaves us to enjoy.

'These both look delicious,' she says. 'You did well with this place.'

'Glad you like it. I talked to my housemates about us, too.'

'What did they say?'

'That I should enjoy the cougar experience. But if I like you, I should go for it.'

'Well, I've never been called a cougar before, but I suppose there's no harm in doing both. Are yousure this is what you want?'

'Now you sound like Charlie.'

'He was right to ask, though. There's a lot to consider, and we have to be honest about it. The age gap isn't going to get any smaller, and I don't want to waste my time if you're going to change your mind in however long.'

'I understand that, but I don't care about age. Chemistry is the most important thing, and no one else I've met has come close.'

She breaks into a bright smile. 'Alright then, let's see how things go.'

My face lights up to match. 'So does this mean we can acknowledge each other at the office?'

'I think Monday was a bit more than acknowledgement.'

'Well, apart from that. On the days when you're wearing normal underwear.'

'I think I can manage that.'

I raise my glass. 'To saying "hi" in the corridor.'

We clink and continue our meal, and it's a little surreal that I'm now sitting across from my girlfriend. The label sounds strange given that we make an unlikely pair, but 'mature, brilliant womanfriend' doesn't exactly roll off the tongue. 'Partner', maybe? Labels don't matter, of course; the important thing is that we're together. We finish our main courses, then I call the waitress over and ask for the dessert menu.

'I shouldn't,' Jenny says. 'I'm supposed to be on a diet, remember.'

'Are you trying to look good for someone?' I tease.

'Maybe.'

'You may as well. Tonight's my treat, so you should make the most of a freebie.'

'What? No, I didn't expect you to pay. I'm happy to split the bill.'

'I know you didn't, but I want to. Call it a thank you for being a good date. You haven't looked at your phone once.'

'Alright, but next time's on me.'

'Deal.'

'In the meantime, let's see what the most expensive thing on this menu is.'

She's joking, although it wouldn't matter if she wasn't. We both order lemon gelato, and pair it with more of the easy conversation we've always had.

'Thank you,' she says, kissing me as we leave the restaurant. 'That was the best date I've had in a long time.'

'It doesn't have to be over yet. Do you want to go somewhere for another drink?'

'No.' She stops and hugs me around the waist. 'I want to go back to mine so I can thank you for a lovely evening.'

The mischief in her tone leaves no room for misinterpretation. 'You know, I didn't buy you dinner to get in your pants.'

'I know, but I want you in them anyway. And besides, I have a surprise for you.'

Between her mystery surprise and another drink, there's only one winner. We head back to hers, kick our shoes off, and she sits me down on the sofa. I don't take my eyes of her as she closes the curtains and turns on a pair of lamps to set the mood.

'How long are you going to keep me waiting?' I ask.

She looks at me with an impish smile. 'Just a little while longer. Wait here.'

'Don't be too long.'

Sashaying to the sofa, she gives me a kiss that promises more. 'See you soon, sweetheart.'

She disappears to her bedroom, leaving me with only my hormones for company. I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve night, the seconds feeling like minutes and the minutes like hours as I wait for Santa to arrive. Except instead of Santa, it's someone much, much better. I finally hear her emerge, and I look over my shoulder towards the sound of approaching footsteps.

'You'd better not be looking,' she says, waiting tantalisingly out of sight behind the wall. 'Close your eyes.'

I reluctantly comply. 'They're closed.'

Her footsteps round the sofa, each more seductive than the last. She stops, and I place her in my mind's eye: between the coffee table and the TV, the bookcase behind her and to the left.

'You can open them.'

'Wow.'

'I'm guessing that means you approve.'

Talk about an understatement. She kept her promise; the infamous red panties are back, this time as intended. A matching bra, garter belt, and stockings make her my lady in red, and she's topped off the look with bright ruby lipstick.

'It certainly beats another drink.'

She saunters around the coffee table and straddles my lap. 'I should hope so.'

'I've never seen you in lipstick before.'

'Which means you've never kissed me in it, either.'

She brings her lips to mine, putting me further under her spell. It's already better than I'd imagined: the waxy texture of her lips, the delicate lace against her soft skin, and her grinding hips rousing my cock to its zenith. After a few minutes of making out, she pulls back with a smile, presumably at the latter.

'How are my lips?'

'You should surprise me more often.'

'Oh sweetheart, we've barely scratched the surface.' As I ponder what that could mean, she nuzzles my neck, trailing gentle kisses up to my ear. 'How do you feel about anal sex?'

My stomach drops to the soles of my feet. Judging by the way she giggles, my expression must be a sight to behold.

'Cat got your tongue?' she asks.

'Are you serious?'

'Of course. We have something to celebrate.'

'I've... never done it before.'