My Secretary, Jo

This is based on my relationship with a women who is just out of my reach.

*********

“Eddy, you are a terrible person. Eddy you are a terrible person.” I keep repeating that to myself. Over and over again. What else could I be?

Fifteen minutes earlier I had walked into my office, and said, “Good morning and happy Friday,” to my new secretary, Jo. As I walked by, I noticed she didn’t greet me in return.

I set my briefcase down on my desk, glanced out the door to her desk and was surprised by what I saw. Jo was sitting there drying her eyes, trying to look composed. It wasn’t working. Her eyes were puffy and her face was flush. She looked like she had been crying for a long time.

I pulled some files out of my briefcase and set them on the corner of my desk, glancing again at Jo. I had hired Jo a few months before, and she was a great secretary. She never let me miss a meeting, except for the ones I wanted to miss, and then she would cover for me as long as I promised to bring her a Diet Pepsi. She prepared reports for me, screened my calls, and basically made my job easier.

The only drawback to having Jo as a secretary was that sometimes she made it hard to concentrate on work. She wasn’t a beauty queen, but at first glance it was obvious that she was special. And when you made her laugh, her smile was almost irresistible. When she walked past, her best asset was clear; she had the most perfect ass I had ever seen. It was tight, firm, and had no panty lines. I’d often sat and daydreamed about whether she wore a thong, or is she wore no panties at all.

But that day, as I watched her, I wasn’t thinking of her ass. I was worried about her, and why she was crying. Jo and I had never spent much time talking about our personnel lives. I figured it was best to stay as professional as possible with any woman that worked for me, especially one as sexy as Jo. I knew she was married, and that sometimes her husband, Greg, was total jerk. She knew I was divorced, and spent all my time working, and no time socializing. She once asked me why I didn’t date. In an unusual moment of honesty, I admitted that the way my ex-wife, Barb, left me was still fresh in my mind, and that even after three years, I couldn’t get over her and move on.

No one knows much about what had happened between Barb and I, and I’m glad. As the divisional manufacturing manager, I have to be a tough guy who is always stern, but fair. Any show of emotion would be seen as a sign of weakness, so I never show much emotion. I’m glad my guys didn’t know how Barb sat up in bed one morning and announced she was sleeping with an old friend, and that our marriage was over. She never said sorry. She never explained why. She was just packed and left that very day. And all I could do was sit and watch her go. I laid in bed without sleeping for two days afterward. Then I told myself I had work to do and went back to that office, ‘having recovered from my bout with the flu‘. Nobody asked how I was. Nobody asked about her. Anyone who sensed that I was hurting, never said a word to me.

In the last three years, I’ve learned to appreciate the peacefulness of living alone. But without a women in my life, my sex life dropped off the cliff. I often found myself masturbating in bed just to help me fall asleep. At first I would think about Barb while I did it, even though her memory was painful. But lately, the only thoughts in my head were of Jo and her perfect ass.

As I looked at Jo sitting at her desk, I was reminded of the way I had felt just a few years before. She was staring down at her keyboard, looking sweet and innocent, but obviously hurting. I watched her for a long time, mesmerized by her face. After what seemed like hours, she lifted her eyes and caught me staring at her. I quickly turned away, trying to hide my intrusion into her personnel sorrow. But I could feel her staring back at me. I slowly turned back toward her, and meet her sad stare with one of my own. As I gazed into her eyes, I began to feel warm and relaxed. Why would her sadness make me feel good? I was intrigued and needed to talk to her.

Without breaking the stare, I raised my hand and motioned her into my office. She got up and slowly walked toward me. As she reached my door, she stopped and turned around. She had forgotten her notepad, assuming that’s what I wanted her to take a memo or something. As she walked back to her desk to get it, my eyes fell to Jo’s perfect ass. As I stared at her ass, I realized that my cock was getting stiff. That’s what was making me feel good. Seeing her like this turned me on. As I thought about it, she picked up her notepad and turned back toward my office.

“Jo, please close the door.” I said. She closed the door as she entered my office and took a seat across from me. “Jo, I don’t need you to take a memo or anything.” I said. “What’s wrong, Jo? You were crying.”

“I’m sorry, Ed, it’s nothing.” she replied softly.

“It didn’t look like nothing. What’s wrong? Is it Greg again?” I asked.

She sat on the edge of her seat, looking at the floor. She was breathing deeply, trying to relax. I noticed her chest move in and out with every breath. Her breasts weren’t big, but they were the perfect size to cup in your hand and massage, which I often fantasized about. I guess you would call her breasts perky, especially for a women in her mid-thirties. The silky blouse she was wearing made them seem to stand out more than usual. With each deep breath the material slid lightly up and down over her nipples. As I sat staring at her chest, waiting for her to respond, I thought I could see her nipples begin to harden from the friction between her blouse and her bra.

“Yeah, it’s Greg,” she responded. Her voice jolted me out of my trance. My eyes shot back to her face. I was relieved to see she was still looking at the floor. I felt my cock getting very hard now. I hadn’t made myself cum in over a week, and now my cock reminded me that it felt neglected.

“We had a big fight last night,” she continued. “He left and didn’t come home. I waited for him all night. I’m worried something has happened to him.”

“Wow, I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “Have you checked with the hospitals?”

“Yeah. I checked the hospitals, I called the police, I even called his Dad, but there’s no trace of him,” Jo said.

“Well, it’s mid-morning. Shouldn’t he be at work by now?” I asked.

“I suppose so. Should I call him and find out?” she said looking up at me finally.

“Tell you what, dial the number and I’ll ask for him. That way you won’t have to deal with talking to him right now while your so upset,” I replied.

Jo nodded, got up and walked around to my side of the desk and bent over to dial Greg’s office. Her perfect ass was at my eye level, just two feet from my nose. I studied it intently, looking for any sign of panty lines. Nothing. Her skin tight slacks showed the uninterrupted contours of each perfect cheek. The seam was about an inch up her crack. I just about came right there. If I had reached down and stroked my cock twice I know I would have cum.

Jo straightened up and handed the phone to me. I put it to my ear just in time to her, “Greg Holmes’ office, may I help you.” It was a young lady’s voice.

“Yes, Mr. Holmes please, this is Doug from his insurance company,” I stated. Jo let out a little smirk as she heard my line. I glanced up at her and smiled. I’m a pretty good liar when I need to be.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Holmes called in sick this morning. May I take a message?” the young lady said.

“No, I’ll try him next week,” I said, as the smile left my face.

Jo stared down at me as I hung up the phone. I told her what Greg’s secretary said. She turned toward my window and gazed into the distance. I checked out her profile. This women had a great body. She must work out regularly. If she was my wife I wouldn’t let her out of the house. My cock was raging now. It was telling my brain to tear her clothing off her, bend her over the desk, and fuck her hard for the 10 seconds it I would last until I filled her with cum.

Then I saw she was starting to cry again. Without thinking I stood up, walked over to her and put my hand on her shoulder. Her blouse was cold to the touch, and I could feel the strap of her bra against her skin. To my surprise, she turned around, threw her arms around my shoulders and buried her head in my chest sobbing uncontrollably. Forgetting about my hard on, I slowly wrapped my arms around the small of her back and gave her a squeeze. She held me back and continued to cry. We stood there for a moment, then I move one hand to the middle of her back over the clip to her bra. I moved the other hand down a few inches so it was just touching the top of one of those perfect ass cheeks. I gave her a hard squeeze.

Her ass felt as tight and firm as it looked. She was definitely not wearing anything under those slacks. I could feel her breasts pushing tight against chest. I swear her nipples were pointing out, digging into my skin. Then I felt something else. My fully erect cock was pressing against the front of her slacks. She could feel my hard on. I felt great. I was in heaven. That’s when it hit me.

“Eddy, you are a terrible person,” I said to myself. “Jo’s little heart is hurting and you groping her body and about to cum in your pants. Eddy, you are a terrible person. Eddy you are a terrible person.” I keep repeating that to myself. Over and over again. What else could I be?

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

I quickly broke off the embrace and returned to my chair. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled.

Jo walked around to the other side of my desk and sat back down. “No, Ed, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have hugged you like that.”

I looked up at her. My cock was telling my brain to yell out, “Hey, Baby, you should be sorry for looking so fine! Get over here and impale your pussy on my cock!” I let out a little chuckle as the thought came and went. Then I sat silently for a moment while I collected my thoughts.

“Do you have a joint credit card,” I asked Jo.

“What?”, she said.

“Do you and Greg have a joint credit card,” I asked again.

“Well, yeah we do.” she replied.

“Greg had to sleep somewhere last night. If he got a room someplace we can find out where.” She got me her credit card, and after a quick phone call and a few questions, I found him. As I hung up the phone, I told her, “He stayed at the Holiday Inn downtown last night. Since he’s not at work, I’ll bet he’s still there.”

“Let’s find out,” she said. “I always wanted to be a detective.”

We grabbed our things. I told the receptionist I was sick and heading home, and that Jo wasn’t needed for the rest of the day, so she was leaving also. We jumped in our cars and drove a couple blocks away. Jo parked her car along the street and jumped into my car. We drove down town in silence. After parking out front, we walked up to the information desk.

“Can I have Greg Holmes’ room number please?” I stated calmly.

“I’m sorry sir, but we’re not allowed to give out that information. But I can connect you with his room if you pick up the phone over there,” the young man said.

“No, I need his room number.” I looked around as I pulled out my money clip. There is one big advantage to being single and having a great job. Lots of money with no one to spend it. The kid’s eye’s jumped out of his head as I handed him a $100 bill and smiled at him.

“Room 6435,” he whispered with a huge grin on his face.

Jo just stared at me as I headed for the elevator. “Come on, this is where it gets fun.” I told her as I walked past. She quickly caught up to me, and jokingly asked if she could have a raise. As we got out on the 6th floor I asked her “are you ready for this.”

“I don’t know,” Jo said.

When we rounded the corner of the hallway, we passed one of the maids stuffing dirty towels into her cart. We found his room, I took a deep breath and knocked. There was no answer. I put my ear the door and heard the sound of a shower running. I looked at Jo, then got an idea. I walked back to the maid.

“I need to get into room 6435, please,” I said softly.

She shook her head and started to speak when I pulled out a $100 bill and put it in her hand. She stared at the money, then at me, and then at Jo. Finally she nodded.

She unlocked the door and whispered, “I saw nothing,” and quickly returned to her cart and pushed it down the hallway and around the corner.

My heart was pounding with adrenaline as I slowly opened the door. I hadn’t been this excited in years. I heard the shower still running, and I heard voices. A man was singing, and a women was giggling. I looked at Jo, she heard it too. The look on her face was shear rage. I put a hand on her shoulder and whispered for her to relax. I was prepared for this situation, but obviously she wasn’t. There was clothing thrown every where, an empty bottle of champagne, and one very messed up bed. In the middle of the sheets was a big wet stain. She must have been a squirter. Barb was a squirter. When she came hard, everything got soaked. I thought of the way it used to feel when she was on top of me, the head of my cock pressing against her cervix, her clit grinding on my pelvic bone, and the feeling of her squirting liquid onto the base of my cock as she came. It would tickle my balls as it dripped off of them. She would come over and over again, then collapse in exhaustion.

The sound of a zipper brought me back to reality. I looked over at Jo. She had opened the woman’s purse and was picking through it. She pulled out a small organizer and opened it.

“It’s that Julie bitch from his work that he always talks about,” Jo whispered. She skimmed through the pages, stopping often. I looked over Jo’s shoulder and saw the same thing she did. At least once a week was had written the name “Greg,” along with some other comment, like “lunch,” “Greg’s house,” or “Holiday Inn.” I touched Jo’s shoulder again. She put the organizer back, and turned toward me.

“I‘ve seen enough. Let’s go,” she said. I noticed that the singing in the shower had stopped. There were other noises coming from the shower. Moans. Grunts. Greg was fucking his mistress right here, while his wife listened. She was probably bent over and taking it from behind. I wondered what his reaction would be if we walked into the bathroom and pulled back the curtain right now.

Jo pulled on my arm. “Let’s go. Now!” she said.

“Wait just a minute, let’s fuck with them first,” I said. I picked Greg’s trousers off the floor, found his money and his credit cards, and stuck them in my pocket. Then I reopened the women’s purse and found her wallet. I took her credit cards and all her cash. As I put the empty wallet back, I spotted one more thing to grab from her purse; her birth control pills. I stuck everything in my pocket and followed Jo out the door, closing it gently behind us. By the sounds from the shower, Greg had just shot a load into his bitch, and she had enjoyed it.

We walked to the car in total silence. As we drove off, she said, “take me to my car, I need to get home and take care of a few things.”

“Would you like some company,” I asked. I decided that this adventure could get mw closer to Jo.

“Actually, I could use your help,” she said.

I dropped her off at her car, then followed her to her home. She parked in the garage. I parked behind her, walked into the garage and followed her into the kitchen. It was an impressive house. Greg must be making out well. Jo stood and looked around for a minute. For a women who just found her husband cheating on her, she was acting pretty calm. “I’m gonna miss this place,” she whispered.

With that she picked up a frying pan from the stove and smashed it through the door of her microwave oven. I jumped back in shock. She pulled out the silverware drawer and through it and it’s contents at the refrigerator. I looked around for the knife rack, hoping she wouldn’t grab it next.

“Wait here,” she said. I wasn’t going to argue with her. She went down the basement stairs, returning a few minutes later carrying a box with 4 gallons of paint. I helped her set them down. She handed me a screw driver from her utility drawer.

“Open them,” she barked.

As I opened the first can I saw it was oil based exterior paint. I cringed.

She took the first open can and dumped it over all the leather furniture in the living room. The second can went down the kitchen sink. She took the third can to the garage. I peered out through the door to see her tear open the protective vinyl covering off a vintage Jaguar coupe. Half the can went on the inside of the car. Half the can went on the exterior of the car. I almost cried at the sight. She carried the fourth can upstairs, and called out for me to follow. She went into their bedroom opened up Greg’s closet and coated everything in it. When she was finished, she put down the can, smiled at me and said, “thanks.” I looked at her hands. She didn’t have a drop of paint on her.

She started to walk toward me. I was sure she wanted me to go to the hardware store for more paint, but she walked on past me to her closet, pulled out four large suitcases and set them on the bed.

“Are you gonna help me pack, Ed?” she asked.

I nodded.

“I need everything in those top two drawers,” she said pointing at a dresser.

She went to her closet and started pulling out arm loads of dresses, blouses and slacks. I opened the top drawer of the dresser and almost passed out. It was her under garment drawer. It was full of thongs, Victoria’s Secret bras, and a few silky things I couldn’t identify. I thought back to all the times I watched her perfect ass walk by, and how I wondered if she was wearing a thong or nothing. I guess she was wore thongs after all. I took a deep breath and grabbed all the thongs and bras I and headed for an empty suitcase.

I went back to the dresser and opened the second drawer. I just stared. It was full of pajamas, night shirts, and some of the skimpiest lingerie I have ever seen. I started to gather them up, but I touched something else. I moved the lace panties aside and almost died. There were three dildos laying there. One was fat, long and black. One was short and fat. One was long and skinny. My jaw was hanging open. I think I made a noise. But I’m not sure.

“Oh shit! Ed, I’m sorry! Oh my God, I forgot about those!” Jo rushed over and picked up the three dildos. She moved some more lacey things aside and collected a string of big beads, a bottle of reddish oil, a tube of KY jelly and a package of ‘D‘ size batteries. I couldn‘t believe my eyes.

“Holy Sit, girl!” I finally exclaimed.

Jo smiled and carried her things over to one of her suitcases. “I can get the rest if you want to wait down stairs,” she called out over her shoulder. “I want to take a quick shower and change.”

I shut the door as I walked out of her room. I went to the top of the stairs and sat down. What a day. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a wade of money, credit cards and one container of birth control pills. I counted the money: $700. I found 2 $100 bills, put the rest of the money in my back pocket, and pulled out my money clip to replace what I had used at the hotel.

That voice in my head started again. “Eddy, you are a terrible person. Eddy you are a terrible person.” I thought about it. I didn’t know where Jo was going from here, but she probably could use the cash. I counted out $480 from my money clip and put it and the $200 in the pile on the carpet. Where ever she’s going, $1180 should get her there. I kept $20 in gas money for myself and put my money clip back in my pocket.

I picked up the stack of credit cards. Two were from Julie What’s Her Bitch, and three were from Greg. I started folding them in half and breaking them up. I stopped when I got to the last card. It was a corporate card from Greg’s work. Jo could use it and it would be hard to trace back to her. I put it with the cash.