Good morning, Mr. Gill. Which item on the agenda would you like to go over first?" I sat in my office chair and yawned at my reflection in my glass of orange juice. 7:00 am was not my friend. "Uh, lets begin with the status of the renovations on my properties." I'm Donovan Gill, nice to meet you. I own a small but lucrative real estate firm that I run out of my home. I came to realize in my second year that misplacing contracts and missing meetings was bad for business, so I needed an assistant. I'd asked around with my contacts and done some independent research, and one name consistently came up: Catherine H. Storm. She's pricey, but her reputation is more than well earned.
She's pretty firm about separating her personal and professional life, but I've learned a little after 3 years working with her. She's 34, about 5'10", originally from Minnesota and maybe 130 pounds or so with strong Scandinavian features. She earned an MBA and a PhD in psychology by the time she was 25, she enjoys wine and italian food, owns a husky, stays fit with Krav Maga and goes to a shooting range occasionally. She allows herself a few vanities: manicures, pedicures and a touch of lipstick. The combination of which, on her near flawless skin, have this quiet sexiness about them.
Catherine (or Cathy, as I secretly call her in my head) always wears her brunette hair in a loose bun held together with a Cross pen when she's working. Today she was wearing a black pinstriped blazer with a matching skirt (cut just above the knee) and a silky white blouse, more or less her usual outfit. There were a few twists today, though; she had on these dark pantyhose with a seam on the back, black high heels and a hint of this intoxicating perfume that smelled like lilacs. She sat a few feet back from my desk, leaned back slightly, legs crossed and dangling her shoe off her right foot, making little circles in the air. God, I was getting harder by the second.
"...travertine countertops are slightly delayed due to a...Mr. Gill, I can come back when you're less...distracted." Quickly darting my eyes up, I saw she was shooting me a slightly annoyed look over the gold, circular frames of her glasses. While I was ogling my way up from her curvaceous calves to her powerful thighs to her trim waist and stopping at her round, heavy C cup breasts, she was maintaining her composure until it became obvious that I was "...overwhelmed by the view, Mr. Gill?" Crap, I got caught daydreaming again! After the electric heat wave of embarrassment washed over me and I gulped in my dry throat, I managed to stammer out, "Um, sorry, Cathy." I froze solid. My eyes went wide with fear and my hard-on went soft as could be. I knew if there was anything she hated, aside from being underestimated by men, was being called "Cathy". I had pretty much done both in the span of a few minutes!
My head was spinning with worst-case scenarios: she's going to quit, she's going to spread my name as a pervert, she's going to sue me for sexual harassment, oh God... As I began to open my mouth to sputter out a more sincere apology, she shocked me to my core by first smirking and then chuckling a bit! The confusion in my expression must've been clear as day. She stood up out of her chair, smoothed her skirt, walked over to my desk and I watched as she placed a perfectly manicured finger to my lips. My cock twitched.
"Mr. Gill," she said, "may I call you Donovan?" I silently nodded, her finger still on my lips. She locked onto my gaze with her mesmerizing caramel eyes and said, "Donovan, I've been doing this for 8 years, and I've had a variety of clientele. I have no illusions about my looks. I know I'm gorgeous and I work hard to keep it that way." "The men I've worked for typically confuse wealth with virility and thusly feel free to harass me as they see fit. I'm a professional; my solution is typically to quit the assignment and bill them extra, noting that it is cheaper than a sexual harassment lawsuit." My eyes began widening, but she pressed her finger firmer and continued, "In this case, I'm willing to make an exception. Professionally, I am a bit disappointed by your behavior. Personally, I find you to be a rather handsome and intelligent man who has been respectful from day one." Her eyes traveled downward as she said, "Also, don't think I haven't noticed your rather sizable...tumescence in these early morning meetings."
Her smirk turned into a wicked smile as she pushed her finger into my mouth. I looked into her eyes, still a little disbelieving at what was happening, but I started to suck on her finger, my cock growing steadily harder. She calmly cleared some space on my desk with her free hand, then climbed up on it, stopping once she was sitting facing me. "Understand, Donovan, that I don't intend to let this impact our professional relationship." She gasped a little as I ran a finger down the soft nylon covering her inner thigh. "But depending on how this goes," she said, "we can make this a regular part of your schedule. And by the way, you may call me Cathy when we--" I took her finger out of my mouth and said, snarling with lust, "Say 'fuck'. SAY it." "Fuck," she said. "Are we clear on this?" I was massaging and spreading her legs. "Oh God, yes," I replied. "Good," she said, her breathing growing faster.
There was so much of her to explore, I just didn't know where to begin. Nearly from the moment she sat in front of me I had unzipped the sides of her skirt and had undone the buttons on her blazer. While I was working on her blouse, she had kicked off a shoe and was rubbing my hardness through my pants with her foot. It felt so good it made me pause. I quickly unzipped my pants and brought my cock out. I looked up at her and she raised an eyebrow and nodded her head in approval. She kept rubbing it as I reached my hand into the darkness of her skirt. I had expected to feel satin, lace, maybe silk. All I felt was a small patch of hair, and a wetness that coated the tips of my two fingers.
I looked up with a wicked smile of my own; this was her plan! She saw the look of clarity on my face and giggled a little. Sly, very sly! I pushed my fingers in and out of her, curling them now and then, hitting her g-spot and making her gasp. I brushed her clit with my thumb, getting more excited every time it made her moan. I pulled my fingers out of her and tasted them. God, the scent was thrilling me. The taste drove me absolutely wild! I roughly hiked her skirt up to her waist and pushed her back on the desk with an animal drive to ravage her. I looked down at her with a fire in my eyes, taking in her lace top pantyhose, the smooth skin of her thighs, the plump pussy lips and trimmed patch of brunette hair staring up at me.
I dove in, lapping in her sweetness as deeply as my tongue would let me, only coming up to gasp for air, to lick and suck on those juicy lips or her hard clit. I was like a starving man, craving the taste of her femininity and enraptured at the chance to have it. She grabbed my head to push me further inside, straddling my face and enveloping my head in her phenomenal thighs as she came for the first time. She loosened her grip on my head and I released my grip on her thighs for just a moment to finger her til they were coated in her juices. I brought my fingers to her mouth so she could taste the heaven that had flooded my mouth. The sensation of her sucking on my fingers, her clit on my tongue, her foot rubbing my cock, the sights, the scents; it was all too much for me. I came for the first time, much of it landing on my desk and carpet, some on her foot.
She realized what had happened, and a slight shade of disappointment crossed her face. I pulled her up, both of us still panting with lust, stood her in front of me and said, "Suck it, Cathy." I was still rock hard, but she gave me a knowing look and did nothing. I took her hand and closed it around my shaft, then said, "Cathy...PLEASE, I need--". "I just wanted to hear you to beg," she said with a devious smile. She pushed me into my chair with some force (I guess the Krav Maga works!) and what followed was singularly the most mind blowing head I had ever gotten.
In the moments in which I could manage to open my eyes, I saw her head bobbing up and down intensely. The sounds of slurping and sucking filling my office were bordering on vulgar. It was so intense that at some point the pen fell out of her bun and her hair was down. I had no idea how hot she looked with it down. I was alarmed when I felt her pull me out of her mouth, and I looked down to see her starting to suck on my balls. She still had on her glasses, although they were crooked and steamed from the heat between us. That turned me on even more.
She put my cock between her breasts and was titfucking me when she said, her face flushed, "Donovan, I need you...to..." she trailed off. She had the sweetest look on her face, but I figured turnabout is fair play, and I had never known her to be so meek. I stayed silent, playing with her nipples and staring her in the face. "Donovan, please?", she asked. After a few moments of enjoying her helpless expression, I smirked and said, "Say it." She blushed a little more then muttered, "fuck...me". I replied, "What was that?" She said, "I...need you to...please, fuck me..." I figured I'd push it, so I said, "One more time?" She looked at me angrily and screamed, "FUCK ME DONOVAN!" I replied by pulling her up, spinning her around and bending her over my desk in a quick motion.
She was absolutely dripping wet. I rubbed my cock against her pussy lips, sending small ripples of titillation through her and taking on some of her wetness. I paused for a moment, she looked back at me, then pushed in all the way to the hilt. I could only hope that my neighbors did not hear the scream that she let out! I placed one hand on her shoulder and the other on her firm, round ass, then pounded her mercilessly, grunting and shouting, inching the desk forward with each thrust. She was grabbing on to the edge of the desk, screaming and swearing; just a complete 180 from the prim and proper Catherine H. Storm I'd gotten to know. God, it was such a turn on. I would slow down and grind, pulling my dick out to the tip and then sliding it back in all the way. I'd reach a hand under her and rub her clit while fucking her slowly.
She stood up while I was still inside her, and as I was reaching around to rub her nipples, she pushed me back and said, with authority, "Sit on the desk." No way was I going to refuse her command, so I sat on the desk and asked, "Now what?" She went down and sucked my cock for a minute or two, and then she said, "Now, I ride you." She got on the desk, grabbed my dick and slid down onto it. Her eyes were rolling and fluttering as she took in each inch.
She started by swirling her hips as if she were giving me a lapdance. I was in absolute heaven! She grabbed my face in both hands and gave me a fierce, passionate kiss. Her tongue was swirling all through my mouth as she continued grinding me. I could taste the both of us on her tongue. We alternately sucked each other's tongues and licked at each other. I broke the kiss to pull her closer, feeling her stiff nipples poking my chest. I planted small kisses along her jaw, played with her earlobe with my tongue, then licked and kissed my way down her neck. When I began to nibble at her collarbone, I felt her perfectly manicured nails scratch long trails along my back. I could feel her moan through her chest as I continued to kiss and nibble.
The sensation of her nails was too much; that animal lust began to well up in me and I grabbed her hips to bounce her up and down on my cock. She sensed it and quickly took control of the situation. She had shoved me flat onto the desk and pinned me down with her forearm. Cathy gave me such a piercing stare as she started to fuck me! It began slowly, then she started to pick up speed, moving from a light bounce to slamming her hips down onto mine, faster and faster. She never broke her gaze the entire time, except when waves of pleasure took her over and she closed her eyes. I wanted to touch her, grab a breast, kiss her, put a hand on her ass, anything! But any move I made with a hand was swatted away. She made it clear: this was her time.
I lost myself in her. I couldn't be sure if I was just a human dildo at this point or if she just wanted to pleasure me. Her motive didn't matter. All that mattered was that the incredibly stunning Ms. Catherine H. Storm was riding me into oblivion. I was deep in an ecstatic haze when a familiar tingle brought me back to reality. My eyes opened to find Cathy with her eyes closed, moaning and sighing, her body slick with sweat. "Cathy," I said, "Cathy! I'm about--" She covered my mouth with her hand and slammed down on me even faster! She wasn't going to stop and my climax was building steadily. Before I knew it I was gripping her hips and screaming into her hand, bucking up at her, filling her pussy with squirt after squirt of my cum.
She wasn't finished though! I was so sensitive that my whole body jerked and flopped with her every movement. My brain felt completely scrambled. As her orgasm built, she sat up more and more vertically until she sat upright. She dug her fingernails into my sides, threw her head back and screamed like a madwoman as her orgasm took her over. Her pussy was clenching and releasing me as she came. I couldn't explain to you how I didn't pass out.
We were a sweaty, heaving heap on my desktop. We lied there for what must have been at least 10 minutes panting into each other's ears, venturing small, weak kisses on each other's necks when we felt the energy to. I had gone soft but I was still inside her when she had composed herself somewhat. Catherine propped herself on my chest and asked me in a whisper with her eyes half closed, "So, can I confirm that Tuesdays at 7:00 am will be reserved as busy, Mr. Gill?"