Never Mind The Face Pt. 02

Part 2. Office Tease

[ tease - office talk - sex in the sea - nude sunbathing - nude in public

Chapter 3. Conversation in A Darkened Room

My working relationship with Sylvia was about to take a quantum leap. I can't believe that what next took place really happened. We took a big risk at the time. What was I thinking; going along with her recklessness.? After decades of re-living and re-processing that memory, I only now realise how I could have wrecked my career in the close-knit world of my profession in the 1980s. But the idea was all Sylvia's, who was living in a world of her own elusive fantasies.

~*~*~

The next morning in the office following that badminton court encounter, Sylvia barely spoke to me. Then she sent John out in the afternoon on an audit check by himself. It was not the first time that she'd found a reason to get him out of the office, he was after all proving an increasing annoyance to both of us. But with lingering remembrances of the previous evening in my mind, I began to suspect an ulterior motive.

As a little bonus to him she offered, "I don't know how long the job will take but you can go straight home afterwards, since it's near to where you live."

John needed no second bidding, and went off happy as a sand boy. I did my tour of the rest of the division, and settled to deal with a final couple of hours' paperwork before going home. William was old and responsible enough to come home from school by himself and await my arrival and dinner.

It was a late Autumn afternoon. Our office overlooked a large square courtyard bounded on all four sides by several storeys of plate glass office windows. It was like being in a goldfish bowl, being seen from all sides, although the offices opposite were some distance away.

After working diligently in almost complete silence throughout the afternoon, and as the sun began to set that late autumn evening, Sylvia stopped working and seemed more inclined to talk. Dusk was drawing in outside and the office was darkening. Normally, she would get up and hit the light switches behind her at the door. But she didn't on this occasion, and I didn't request it.

I knew at once that she had a plan. A sixth sense also suggested a subtle change in her mood. My belly did somersaults in anticipation of a salacious discussion. I never imagined what would eventually occur.

~*~*~

We became engrossed in a wide-ranging conversation, always avoiding the topic uppermost in both our minds. The discussion was reaching new depths of intimacy, touching even on illicit subjects such as our respective celibacies. This was before the days of desktop computers. Work in the unlit office rapidly became impossible in the gathering gloom. White paper and biro just don't show up well in the dark.

Eventually, the only light to venture into our room was diffused illumination from the surrounding offices. I sat with my back to the windows, my face in shadow. All the other office interiors beyond the window were brilliantly lit whilst ours had slipped into relative darkness. The south-facing plate glass windows, laminated to reduce the glare from the sun, would reflect external artificial light and act like mirrors; we could see out but no-one could see in.

I had been feeling increasingly strong vibes emanating from Sylvia as the afternoon wore on. I had put it down to my imagination. Sylvia had probed about Sandra, who had received a big payout from the divorce and bought a home of her own with her lover.

Neither of us had alluded to the badminton experience.

We had been discussing television shows. I mentioned a police procedural called Juliet Bravo. It provoked a critical response from Sylvia. It was also to prove a convenient hook on which to ensnare me.

"What? You enjoy a tv show with a female actress as the lead?"

"Sure, it's a rare thing on TV, I grant you, but I'm gender blind when it comes to entertainment."

Sylvia snorted and replied, "Rare's the word, I can't think of another example. Females are usually used only as fodder for male leads. Take the Dukes of Hazzard: it's entirely male dominated - in the gender of the lead actors, the story lines - the women are just ornaments. Do you remember any of them? Go on, name one."

Her choice of TV show couldn't have been conjured up in an instant. Yet if she had been waiting on a chance to mention it, I had offered it unwittingly.

Sylvia lined me up in her sights. I fell into her trap. "Well, there's the cousin of Bo and Duke...what's her name?"

"You mean Daisy Duke?"

"And what's the first thing you think of when you hear her name?"

"Er, her cut-off shorts?"

"Precisely. I don't think she was chosen for her acting skills."

"The series is harmless fun. Nobody's hurt by it."

"No, but would you have even noticed her if it weren't for her shorts?"

Had Sylvia really begun that conversation just for that pay-off line? In her earnestness to make her point she leant forwards on the desk. Her bust seemed to grow in size as it spread slightly on the wooden surface. It wasn't the first occasion that she had leant forwards that afternoon, but a button had now come undone again. Her buttonholes had proven very resilient to past strains so I could not help thinking that perhaps she had undone it whilst I wasn't looking.

She abruptly changed topic, to my intense relief. But she had another plan of attack.

"Better to be out and about than watching male-oriented television. Where was the most exotic location you've holidayed at?"

I should have changed the topic of conversation there, or at least held back information. But my cock was throbbing with intense desire. She had lured me into a state or arousal. I wanted to talk of, or hint at sex now.

"Ah, that would be on the French Mediterranean; we went with my in-laws. That was a good holiday. It was where our son was conceived."

I knew that I had said more than I needed, and why. Sylvia's eyes brightened with sudden, keen interest. She shrugged her shoulders, quite unself-consciously. She was hanging on my words. Her breasts wobbled, before settling to rest again on the table. I felt the first frisson of sexual excitement wash through my torso. She prodded for more details.

"Was it the location that made it exotic, or were things going well between you at the time?"

"I think we were both seduced by the Mediterranean vibe. We stayed at Cogolin, a village in the hills west of St Tropez. "My in-laws had rented a villa with a pool. They took us with them. My wife and I were still a couple at that time. There's a fabulous, sandy beach south of St Tropez called le Plage de Pampelonne."

"Isn't that where Brigitte Bardot used to go?"

"Perhaps, but nowadays it's overrun with tourists like us."

Sylvia's eyes narrowed, and her lips parted at some deliciously sensuous thoughts she was savouring. Her tongue wetted her lips.

"Were the women topless?"

This was as near to the knuckle as our conversations had ever reached. The air positively crackled with pheromones.

"Bare breasts were rare on the town beach, but tits came out aplenty on the sands further south."

"And did your wife go - topless?" She shrugged her shoulders again as she paused on the cusp of that final word. My eyes dropped automatically to her bust. I mentally compared my ex-wife's smaller tits with Sylvia's. When I replied, my voice was strained.

"She did; she had to, because so was everybody else."

Sylvia's lips had parted. Her chest and neck had reddened. She was aroused. Seeing her like that was exciting me as well. The atmosphere in the darkened office was getting steamy. I felt her excitement increasing. It showed in her face, which oozed sensuality and saucy thoughts.

"And?"

She wanted more salacious details. This conversation could go literally anywhere.

"And what?"

"Was anyone naked?"

Her direct, probing question surprised me with its directness. We might both have been thinking it, but to hear it spoken out loud was surprising in those still prurient times. Once discussions delved to that depth, sex was surely almost certain to follow. But, in an office...?

"Well...there's a long stretch of sandy beach south of St Tropez, and the further away from the town we went, the freer and easier it got. We heard from another couple that first day, that there were nudists further south, but the beach was more difficult to reach because it was a long walk from the road.

"We went to explore it the following day. The road was indeed a long way from the beach, so we had to park at the road side and walk a long way until we reached the beach, then walk along the water's edge until we found nudists. Then we stripped off too."

"With your in-laws?"

"No, never. They weren't beach people so they let us use the car whilst they stayed around the town. We arranged a time to meet up. They did sight-seeing and had a long, wine-infused lunch. Then they sat on deckchairs by the sea front and snoozed. So were free to indulge our fantasies."

"Did you swim in the nude?"

"Yes, there were lots of couples doing it."

"And how was your son conceived?"

I had mentioned to her before, in passing, that he was the product of a holiday fling. She had remembered, and probably saved it up for a time when it was more appropriate to explore the circumstances in more prurient detail. Her question about holidays had clearly had a motive. But was the office an appropriate place for such a discussion?

"How much detail do you want?"

She was sat facing me and the window. Her face was faintly lit by stray light from outside. She looked very excited, aroused, as if close to an orgasm. My back was to the window and I was in shadow. She could only guess at my thoughts and feelings.

She urged me on. "We can't be overheard here, so I want to hear every last bit of detail you can give me." That statement was spoken with relish, her tone suggestive and emphatic. We were verging on ultra-sensitive territory. My heart beat faster and my stomach started fluttering.

I had never openly talked about sex before, even to other men, so this would be a first.

Her heightened desire was seeding the atmosphere with pheromones. She was hanging hungrily on my every word and stoking the air with endorphins.

"Since you ask, he was conceived in a moment of sheer recklessness by my wife. We'd drunk heavily the night before. We fell into bed in a state of high arousal. Sandra forgot to take the pill. The sex that night was particularly good, and she was unusually uninhibited.

"If I say so myself, I exceeded myself with my lovemaking. Our feelings were mutual. Our bodies acted instinctively. She was exceptionally aroused, and I kept her body on the boil for a long time, teasing her. She practically pleaded with me to let her come. When I finally relaxed control, my orgasm was immense. So was hers, she had multiple climaxes. We were both convinced without having to say it, that she would be pregnant. Then we repeated it the following day, which probably made sure of it."

Sylvia's face looked strained from dealing with her rampant libido. I imagined that I could smell her sex. She was leaning forward on her elbows, her hands resting on the desk, palms up, cupping her breasts in her hands through the blouse material. Those luscious tits shifted suggestively within her palms and fingers. My cock was already stiff, from our conversation. The sight of her now, groping her tits, was sending my physical equilibrium haywire. I could tell that she was over-excited as well.

I continued my tale.

"We drove that second day further down the coast to find the nudist area. It meant crossing scrubland on foot. But it was obvious when we reached the beach. There were lots of naked bodies lying on their backs, gleaming in the sun with liberally applied tanning oil. You can imagine the shock to my system at seeing all those gorgeous naked females.

"I can guess. Were you turned on?

"What a question to ask! What can I say? The only naked body I'd seen before that time was Sandra's. Now there was a whole beach full of them, a voyeur's paradise.

"The beach faced west and the sun was in our eyes as we looked out to sea. We saw figures bobbing about out there in the sparkling water, but they were indistinct, shadowy blurs against the glare of the sun. We went in to swim naked, of course. There is something very sensual about sea water lapping around naked skin, particularly one's first time. Sandra's wet body gleamed erotically in the sunlight, which glinted off the droplets on her skin. The sun was behind her so her breasts were partly in shadow, emphasising their glisteningly rounded shapes. I could tell that she was excited.

"Other couples were in the water around us, all spaced out discreetly. They were cuddling up to each other, standing on the bottom or treading water, their upper bodies bobbing up and down. We knew full well what they were doing, and in safe anonymity from the beach. It was like a conspiracy of canoodling couples. Have I invented a new collective noun?

"I made the first move, boldly stroking Sandra's breasts. She looked shocked, but then I felt her hand grasp my cock. Suddenly I had a strong urge to fuck her in the open air and the sea.

"She resisted at first, but her face glazed over as soon as I fingered her clit under the water. Her thighs parted, begging for more attention between her legs. She kissed me, her usual prelude to lying back on the bed for sex. But she couldn't do that in the sea, so she clung to my neck with her arms. Her body was buoyed up by the water. I lifted her lower body easily. She wrapped her legs around my hips, opening up her vagina for my penetration and leaning backwards. The saltwater buoyed up her upper body. It floated on the surface.

"Our bodies formed a triangle out from our hips. Her head dusted the surface of the water. The tops of our pubic areas were visible; the neck of my cock impaled inside her just below the surface. There could be no misunderstanding to those nearby about what we were doing. It was more explicitly implied than any of the surrounding couples. Her shaved pubic mound was visible on the surface, her breasts pointing skywards, her engorged nipples like twin peaks of lubricious temptation."

I was waxing lyrically in telling my true story. One might say I was deliberately stoking up Sylvia's fire. I continued.

"There was a rush of blood to my head. I was feeling light-headedness. The sound of the sea, the eddies of the water around our naked bodies, how light her body felt buoyed up by the salt water; seeing her naked upper body laid out before me in the sunlight, inviting me to ravish her; all contributed to a sense of overwhelming excitement. We both felt it.

"She became nervous, then, even in our permissive surroundings. My thick cock was firmly implanted inside her. She could not draw back. She asked, what if people can see what we're doing?

"I reminded her that with the sun behind us and our distance from the shore, nobody there could make out what we were doing."

"She pointed out other distant couples around us and said, but they can see us, they'll know what we're doing.

"I said that all those around us are doing exactly the same thing, so they won't mind. I pointed out the reason for their bobbing bodies.

"I didn't add that they were all acting far more discreetly than we were, and all of them were staring at us.

"I began to thrust more aggressively inside her. It felt exquisite doing it in the sea. Her naked, wet upper body looked so arousing laid out in front of me like that. The water supported her, making her feel much lighter than normal in my hands. I felt superhuman. We were both under the seductive, watery spell of the warm Mediterranean. Then at the last possible moment, she said that she had forgotten to take her pill.

"I asked, should I stop? She said, no, let's play Russian Roulette."

"I asked, did you take it the previous night? She said she hadn't."

"We both knew, then, but I fucked her nevertheless. She was giving me permission to inseminate. She got very excited - more than usual. Her reticence was consumed by the moment. Her arms clung around my neck, pulling my upper body down towards hers. She threshed about on the surface of the water. I saw other couples drifting closer to watch. I didn't mention that to her. She was lost in the moment.

"My heightened state of arousal gave me superhuman strength, and I pulled her body up vertically and towards my chest, so that she was riding my hips with her encircled legs. I could feel my cock now clear of the water and inside her, thrusting in and out. If any of our watchers had had any illusions about what we were doing, that graphic demonstration would have dispensed with any remaining doubts. I remember thinking that I wished I could see her taut bottom like our onlookers.

"I felt so liberated, unashamedly fucking her like that, with an appreciative audience.

"She came quickly, and very loudly. Her cries would have carried across the water to all those around us. It was so liberating after the constraints of our semi-detached house. We tried never to make too much noise there, having sex. Now, in the open air, far from home, her inner slut was unleashed. She thrashed about, clinging to my shoulders. The other couples could only imagine what internal sensations she was experiencing - Meg Ryan, eat your heart out. This was more than just pure sex. It was an act of mutual love and life creation.

"I hadn't needed any foreplay or holding back. I just let go, with the most astonishingly spontaneous orgasm of my life."

~*~*~

Chapter 4. Shenanigans In The Dark

Describing sex in such detail was cathartic, but it did nothing for my balls. I needed release, but the office was not the place.

My face was in shadow. Sylvia's upper body was bathed in a faint light from the window. She sat back in her chair, overwhelmed by my story. Satisfaction was etched all over her faintly illuminated face. One of her hands was clamped across her blouse, massaging a breast. Her other hand was somewhere out of sight below the top of her desk. She had an idyllic expression on her face. She can't possibly have climaxed, but my story had evidently given her great pleasure at some non-physical level.

Her hands both re-appeared on the table top, as if her mind had returned to its senses and realised what her posture had implied.

There was a long pause before she broke the silence, speaking in a voice strangled with tangled emotions. She hadn't forgotten her strategy.

"Ahem, changing the subject - did you notice anything particularly about our badminton match last night?"

"The badminton? I thought we weren't going to discuss it."

Her voice trembled as she fought to bring it under control. She forced her tone into a deeper, huskier timbre.

"I'm not talking now about the match. Did you notice anything about me?"

I smiled dreamily at the recollection of the evening before. She couldn't see my expression but hers was lit just about enough for me to read. Her face was again strained. An animalistic aura was emanating from her, probably more of those pheromones. The air conditioning had gone off. It had stilled the air and with it the background hum.

The silence was not just palpable, but electrifying in its aura. As she waited for my answer she leant forward once more, splaying out her breasts like a sacrificial offering.

Had I noticed anything about her on the badminton court? Of course I had.

I had nothing to lose now by being absolutely honest.

"How could I not? Your shorts were - tight. They hid nothing, and disguised little of the sexy contours of your hips and bottom. There was little left to the imagination, if I may say so."