Something In Her Eyes Ch. 02

"So do I," Jordan said, panting. "But we can't... uhhhhhhhnnnn... people will get hurt."

"I can see how wet you are. I remember precisely how sweet you taste, how you rode my face when I caught you from falling off your ladder. You want this, you need this."

"Need what, my baby... Oh fuck... Tell me," Jordan said. Her hand was a blur now, shoving the dildo into her with determined speed.

"You need me to fuck you, to fuck you dirty and do all those nasty things to you that satisfy that dark animal instinct in your soul." Glen was getting close, too. "We connect because we both have this need, and neither of us can avoid it."

"You know me so well," Jordan admitted. Her fiancé didn't even know this side of her, the part of her personality that had been a filthy slut for Glen when they fucked in her office two weeks ago. "God, I want you deep in me. Thrusting. Pounding. Staring into my eyes. Taking me..."

"Owning your pussy," Glen continued, "making it mine, using you selfishly for my own nasty pleasure to satisfy my most filthy desires..."

"Like your own... Oh God!... dirty little whore... Oh fuck!!!" Jordan was cuming, violently. Her orgasm crashed into her, wracking her body. Her words degenerated into a jumbled mess of syllables and grunts interlaced with an occasional obscenity.

It was too much for Glen. Hearing her moans wrenched the cum right out of him, the sound of her voice like an invisible hand that reached into him and pulled the sauce from his balls in a violent torrent. His orgasm was so intense that he could not concentrate hard enough to make sure he caught the entire sticky mess he made in the wad of tissues he had. When he was finally able to regain his composure and open his eyes he saw that cum was everywhere -- on his clothes and on his desk, a few drops had made it onto some files and on his computer keyboard.

"God, what a mess!" he exclaimed, breaking the sound of their heavy breathing.

"Did I do that to you, baby?" Jordan teased.

"You most certainly did," Glen admitted easily. "I shot everywhere."

Jordan thought about how she wanted his cum all over her, how she wanted him to blast inside both of her holes, and how she wanted to swallow some more of it. The thought sent fresh spasms through her pussy and she shivered. He brought out the slut in her more than any other man. It scared her to death, but he made her feel safe in revealing that side of her personality, and she loved that about him. Finally she said, "I've got a small river running over here. I don't think I'll be able to get the stain out of this chair, let alone the smell."

"Mmmmmm," Glen said. "I had to shower before I went home the last time we saw each other, and I hated it. I loved smelling you on my lips and on my face and on my fingers as I drove away. I wanted to keep smelling you as long as possible."

"I know what you mean," said Jordan, "I hated washing your scent off of me as well. I was yours as long as I had your mark on me, and washing you off was like breaking the spell."

"Speaking of which," Glen said with a little sadness in his voice, "I should let you go clean up, and I really need to as well before everyone comes back from lunch and sees the mess I've made of myself and my desk."

Jordan could not help but laugh. It was a bittersweet one: she was sad that they could not indulge in the desire they had for each other, but she damn sure loved her interactions with him. "Ok, go clean yourself. Until next week then. Bye my baby."

After Glen hung up he zipped up his pants then dashed quickly to the bathroom. He tried to clean himself as best he could, but cum stains on a black shirt would not come out with just water. He would have to rush home and change, scrub the stains out before they set in to make sure his girlfriend did not see any evidence of his dalliances. The thought of her brought a heavy feeling to his heart. He sat down on the commode with his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his palms, reflecting on what had just happened. He thought about the profound connectedness he felt with Jordan at learning the dual fate of their fathers. He also thought about the fact that he just had a stronger orgasm masturbating with Jordan on the phone than he ever had in person with his girlfriend in their 3 years together. His reflection on all these issues resulted in the first crack in his resolve to not let developments with Jordan alter the commitment he had to his current relationship.

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The following week their conversation went much the same way. For the first 90 minutes they talked professionally about their legal challenge. Jordan was ready to file papers launching the first lawsuit later that week. For this first case they selected a company against whom they had the best chance of winning, hoping to establish a precedent for the court. Even still it was a long shot. If they won that case, however, the others -- where the evidence was not so clear cut -- would be easier and the companies would be more likely to settle. But it wasn't about the money, they both agreed. It was about getting these companies to change their policies and give people a chance to earn an honest living. Glen was truly touched that she believed in this cause enough to do so much work without the promise of a big payday. It was one of the main reasons why he could not simply dismiss what he felt for her as just lust. He really did admire her personal and professional commitment to justice and to helping people.

Like eager little kids just home from school doing homework, they greeted the completion of their work for the day as an opportunity to tear into playtime. Jordan's panties were quickly in a heap next to her on the floor and Glen had completely taken his pants and boxers off, in order to avoid making a mess of his clothes again. He also bought for his office a small bottle of lube he kept locked in a desk drawer, along with a towel. Their excitement was so intense that they were both panting through a fierce orgasm after no more than ten minutes.

"You know, you still owe me a lunch date," Glen remembered as he wiped himself off. "It's safe, because we couldn't do anything in the middle of a crowded restaurant," he lied to both Jordan and himself. "So meet me for lunch next week."

Jordan thought about if for a minute. Deep down, she knew better, and so did Glen, but she also lied to herself, burning to see him so badly, telling herself that indeed, they could be next to each other and it would be safe. Reluctantly but with butterflies in her stomach, she agreed.

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The following week they met for their rain check lunch date, at a seafood place located centrally in the heart of town. The restaurant was crowded, offering them no privacy which was just perfect, Jordan thought. There was no way to get into trouble there. They were seated at a small table shrouded in a table cloth, right in the center of many other diners. They sat cattycorner from each other instead of directly across the table in order to hear each other better.

Jordan was dressed in a charcoal business skirt and jacket that perfectly accentuated her smooth sun-kissed skin. Glen saw her and wanted to taste every inch of her. He had on a midnight blue suit, with faint pinstripes that lined his figure. Jordan flashed on the memory of what he looked like outside of his clothes, and quickly pushed it out of her mind.

Initially their lunch proceeded without incident. They both wanted to eat light, so they each ordered a salad and decided to share an entre of grilled salmon topped with cilantro lime butter and mango salsa. It was delicious. As they ate they just enjoyed each other's company and conversation. Their conversation turned very serious as they talked about the economic crises facing the nation and Glen angrily expressed his frustration at the hundreds of billions of taxpayer dollars needed to bail out all the "crooks, thieves and swindlers who got us into this mess" in order to save peoples' jobs. Jordan smiled internally. She shared his anger but she loved seeing him get fired up. She eased her left foot out of her heel and reached out with it to caress his calf.

Jordan's foot lingered and Glen welcomed the contact. He didn't let on in his demeanor, though, as they talked. Jordan appreciated that and it gave her an extra thrill, secretly being naughty while presenting a perfectly polished image of two colleagues having a business lunch. His discretion allowed her to feel safe with the minimal contact, made her want to risk pushing things a little further.

"You know," Jordan said, changing the subject, "you have not told me any of your jokes lately. I miss them."

"I was trying to be good," Glen responded.

"You call what we did during our last two phone conversations being good?" Jordan asked.

"Well, we were being better," Glen conceded, "better than we were behaving three weeks ago. So are you giving me permission to be naughty with you?" Glen asked, simultaneously reaching down to grab her foot that was caressing his calf. He placed her leg across his lap and began to give her a well practiced foot massage.

Jordan suppressed a groan. "No, not too bad," she countered. "Try to be good." His strong hands drew the tension right out of her with their skilled manipulation of her arch, taking the time rub between each toe. He was being good, alright. Too good. Jordan decadently indulged in his ministrations, and soon kicked off her other heel and offered her other foot for him to perform his magic. What Jordan found most thrilling was that all the while he maintained an above-table demeanor of strict professionalism. His voice lowered a bit and if you could not hear them, you would have no clue that they were teasing each other into a heighted state of arousal. The table cloth obscured the fact that her feet were in his lap. If anyone looked their way, they would have no clue Glen was giving her a massage that was starting to make her wet.

"I think I may have one you will like," Glen said finally, taking his time to settle on a joke to fit the occasion. His hands began to venture up past her ankles, massaging her lower legs as well. Jordan loved his muscular hands on her and the more excited she got, the more she lost her inhibitions. She spread her thighs subtly to give him greater access. As she did, she moved her foot closer to his crotch, feeling his cock stiffening. She started using the ball of her foot to rub his cock through his pants. Her foot was working magic on him, and soon Glen was sporting an erection to match the growing wetness between Jordan's thighs. Feeling Jordan rubbing his hardness only served to make him more excited, and he decided to take a risk and reach further.

"What do you know about witches?" he asked, lightly rubbing and running his nails atop the fabric of her skirt guarding the skin of her thighs from his touch.

"The stereotypical usual," she said, "green, black hats, and warts. Why?" Wanting to feel her warmth, Glen reached down to the hem of her skirt at her knees and pulled it up. Then his bare hand immediately went to rubbing the inside of her thighs where the heat was palpable.

"Well, do you know why witches don't wear panties?" Glen asked, moving his hand further up toward her core. Jordan clamped her thighs shut tight, holding his hand stuck in there in her smooth warmth, unsure if she wanted to let him go any further. It was another of those fate-deciding pauses where the next action would decide just what direction the rest of the afternoon would take. Jordan looked to the mirror across from them to make sure that the table cloth continued to obscure their activities. It did. Her heart was pounding, she knew she was being wicked, but she could not resist opening her thighs to allow him full access. Glen kept his cool, and did not let on to the rush he felt at the change their afternoon just took.

"I have no clue. Tell me," she said finally as she spread her legs for him.

Glen reached her apex and felt the very wet heat coming through the soft cotton crotch of her lacy panties. He looked at her with an urgent intensity and a smoldering stare of desire, breaking his demeanor for the first time that afternoon. He held her eyes with his and let his fingers slide along the wet surface, feeling for the nub of her clit and rubbing it briefly. He found the lacey fabric's edge and pulled it to the side, exposing her hole to the cool air of the restaurant's AC. "Because it helps them keep a better grip on the broom," he said in a barely audible voice, pressing two fingers forcefully up inside her. She was so wet he felt no resistance.

The combination of laughter and the stab of pleasure gushed from her in a loud burst. She brought her napkin up to her mouth to stifle her outburst and hide the crimson flush that was sweeping up her cheeks. Glen's professional demeanor returned and he brought his left hand up to continue eating his salad while his right hand continued slowly finger fucking her pussy under the table.

Just when Jordan seemed to have resumed her control Glen decided to see if he could raise the stakes even further by giving her a challenge he was almost sure she would not accept. He leaned in close to her and whispered, "Why don't you go and take these off?" motioning with his hand to her panties.

"We shouldn't," Jordan said tentatively. Glen found the nub of her clit again and pressed on it. Jordan practically melted in her seat. It was no use resisting, she was weak in his presence. She did not want to admit to as much so easily, though. "I actually need to go to the Ladies room, I'll think about it," she said finally. Jordan slipped her feet back into her heels then excused herself to go to the restroom. She could feel the sodden under garments wet against her skin. While she was gone Glen hailed the waiter and ordered a large bowl of fruit.

When Jordan returned Glen wondered if she had actually done it. She sat down and Glen tried to reach for her again under the table but she pushed his hand away. Instead, she discretely pulled her panties out of her purse sitting on her lap and folded the flimsy moist white lace into her napkin. She used the table cloth to obscure her actions so that not even Glen could see. Jordan adjusted her panties so that the damp crotch was folded on the outside of the napkin, blending into the white fabric of the linen.

"You have a little something on the side of your mouth," Jordan said innocently. "Here, let me get that for you." Before Glen could react, Jordan ever so casually brought the napkin with her panties inside and wiped his mouth, rubbing the wet crotch all over his lips and under his nose. Her scent rocked his brain like a jolt of electricity. He knew it instantly and his dick swelled with excitement, hurting him it was so hard. He struggled to keep his cool. An image flashed in his mind of throwing everything on their table to the floor, pushing Jordan up there and fucking her right in front of everybody in the restaurant. He had to close his eyes and grip the table to keep from doing anything rash. Jordan watched him struggle and a wicked smile broke out on her face in triumph. Glen opened his eyes and looked at Jordan with a smoldering stare. Before he could do anything, however, her phone rang.

Jordan looked at the caller ID and froze. It was her fiancé. "Shit," she said out loud. "I need to take this."

"By all means," Glen said, acting cool. Just then the waiter came by with their plate of fruit, containing slices of melons, strawberries, papaya, and grapes. While Jordan talked he plucked a slice of honeydew melon from the plate in front of them then discretely let his hand bearing the fruit disappear under the table. Jordan clamped her legs shut tight, again trapping his hand in her strong thighs and forbidding his entry. She was torn, as her body definitely wanted to spread for him, but not while she was on the phone with her fiancé.

"Hi honey," she said into her phone, "what's up?" Hearing that it was her fiancé on the phone only made Glen more determined. He reached down with his other hand to pry her thighs apart. Jordan relented. It was really only a half-hearted defense she was putting up. Truthfully, she wanted it. She almost yelped into the phone when the cold fruit touched her wet lips. Glen hesitated and did not push it inside her right away. The sensation was thrilling. She reached a free hand down and grabbed Glen's forearm, digging her nails in deeply, almost deep enough to draw blood.

"Be good," she mouthed silently to him, looking at Glen with pleading eyes.

"I plan on it," he whispered back, and with that pushed the cold fruit into her steamy tunnel. He pushed it in deep to the first knuckle of his finger, and Jordan worried whether he would be able to get it out easily. Glen was quick, though, and a few rubs on her clit brought forth some spasms of her pussy that pushed the fruit right back out into his palm. Glen brought the fruit to his mouth and smelled it briefly before pushing it slowly between his lips. He savored the sticky fruit in three bites, leaving Jordan hungry for more. He grabbed a piece of papaya and repeated the process, all while Jordan continued to talk on the phone. For his part, Glen looked totally innocent as he did all this. He pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase and pretended to be looking them over while patiently waiting for Jordan to finish her conversation, all while leisurely enjoying a plate of luscious fruit. Jordan was finding it hard to concentrate, and it did not help that her fiancé was talking to her about planning their wedding. Her mind was a mess with the slew of emotions swirling in her head.

Glen decided to be naughty and raise the stakes again. For the next piece of fruit he chose a strawberry. He dipped it into her honey and then fed it to her lips instead of his own. Jordan gobbled it hungrily, letting her tongue swipe at his fingers ever so subtly before he withdrew them. She felt horribly guilty, but guilt over the situation only fed her excitement over how bad she was being. She could not help but be turned on by the feeling of being so wickedly yet discretely naughty, in public, on the phone with her fiancé no less! Her pulse was racing and her pussy was throbbing.

"Mmmmm," she said, swallowing the berry after savoring it on her tongue. Then after a pause, "Oh nothing, just enjoying a little fruit fondue for lunch with a client."

Glen chuckled to himself, loving her quick wit. And so it continued -- Glen shoved piece after piece of fruit into her dripping pussy, letting them marinade in her and soak up her flavor like in a pitcher of sangria, then massaged her clit so her cunt would squeeze the fruit back out. Jordan was near panting and hysterical with lust from his teasing, but could not seem to get off the phone with her fiancé fast enough. She did not even want a big wedding with so much fuss, but their families had insisted, and Jordan went along to please everybody. But it was only 3 months away, and she had been slacking on taking care of her end of the planning. She needed to at least give her fiancé the impression that she was taking it seriously, so she stayed with the call. Glen meanwhile continued to feed them both fruit sticky with her nectar, until only the grapes remained.

The waiter stopped by to refill their waters and asked if they wanted some more fruit. Instead of curtly dismissing him, Glen carried on a conversation with him as he continued to play with her pussy under the table. Jordan was horrified and started turning red. Two could play at this game, though, so she coolly let her free hand travel down into Glen's lap and grabbed onto the raging hard-on she found there. Rubbing and squeezing his head quickly had Glen unable to hold up his end of the conversation and he immediately dismissed the waiter. Jordan elbowed him in his gut, but continued playing with his cock. She could feel its heat searing through his pants.