The Story of a Skirt

Memories are interesting things. It is often the smallest thing that grabs my attention and brings me back. This time, it was pulling a skirt out of my closet. I recently had a baby, and am enjoying being able to wear clothes that I haven't in almost a year. I was getting dressed for work, and grabbed my black a-line skirt off a hanger. It hit me almost immediately the last time I wore this skirt. The last day working at my last job. The job itself doesn't hold that many great memories, but, that last day, that last afternoon sure as hell does. I'm not exactly sure why after working together for years, the last two weeks that I was employed there pushed forward flirtations that had been going on for years. Maybe he has an answer, I don't. I had worked for him as a secretary of sorts for years. Taking care of him wasn't my only responsibility, but, it was by far my favorite. I liked that he relied on me, and that he appreciated me.

Like I said, we'd flirted for years. We are both married, so I had long ago chalked the flirtations up to a stress relief at the office, and never really thought anything would ever come of them. Something about me putting in my 2 week notice changed that. Almost immediately, we found excuses to touch, just a minute here or there, because it would have been definitely frowned upon by our boss, and, like I said, we both had spouses at home that didn't need to know.

I can't tell you his side of the story, as I've never really asked. But I was attracted to him almost from the first time I met him. He's 15 years my senior, and according to him, he'd started going grey in high school. Now a few years past 40, he has a presence that had my heart beating faster every time he looked at me with heat in his eyes. He's nearly a foot taller than I am, I'm not sure why, but that always made me feel safe. I could go on and on about times that I'm sure he didn't even realize it, but he'd made my pulse quicken, my breath catch, and made me wet, but that's not this story.

That last day, it almost seemed anti-climactic – you'd have never known it was my last day from the way everyone around the office was behaving. It is a small office, and I know some were glad to see me go, and others just glad for the entertainment that my leaving brought. Our boss left early that day, with barely a "Good-bye". That was ok with me. I wouldn't miss our boss or the rest of the office, just him. That day, the entire office staff was gone by 4, save for the two of us. I will admit to being shy, never the instigator, fearful of rejection I suppose, but after the last car pulled from the drive, I walked into his office, closed his blinds, and kissed him. I can't begin to tell you how energized I was, just from a kiss. He suggested we move to my old office, as it was a little less in the main flow of traffic, just in case someone decided to come back in the office.

He accused me that day of wearing skirts so often for easy access. He was right. I loved that it was so easy for him to touch me. And he did, touch me. I will again admit to some naiveté, even after being married for 8 years, and I was more than happy to be led and controlled by someone who definitely knew what he was doing. Just being held by him brought my body alive in ways I'm not sure it ever had been. I was scared at that point of disappointing him. We'd touched, kissed, played a little here and there before, but, I knew without a doubt, I wanted him to fuck me before I left that day.

Almost immediately, he'd made excellent use of my freshly cleaned off desk, and had me bent over it, rubbing my clit with his dick and making me crazy. He teased me. He wouldn't enter me. I remember thinking, GOD, would you just give it to me? He did, finally, and I can't give you details, as I don't make a habit of carrying around a measuring device to take measurements, but I can honestly say, I've never been filled so fully or so well, as I was with his dick inside me. The sensations were amazing, the cool desk against my cheek, his hands on me, keeping me on the brink of an orgasm, and him pounding his dick into me. I know I'd cum at least a couple times, I laughed and told him I had a hair trigger, but that was a lie, I really don't, at least, not usually. It usually takes a great deal of work and concentration on my part to cum at all, much less repeat performances.

Suddenly, he stopped, pulled out, and leaned back against the wall. I can't honestly tell you why he did, but I saw it as an opportunity I had to take advantage of. I have a small mouth, and blow jobs have never been any fun at all for me. I gag so easily, but I couldn't NOT try it. I had to. I was compelled to. I dropped to my knees and did the best I could. Tasting myself on him was an even bigger turn on. I couldn't even begin to put his entire dick in my mouth, but I tried. I loved the feel, the smooth skin, the size, it was all more than I could take.

He pulled me gently back up to my feet, and sat me on the desk. The sense of control that he had over me, by pure size and strength is perhaps the biggest turn on of all. I liked being controlled, handled, enjoyed.

In my less than varied experience, I'd never been with a man who could last as long as he already had. I'd certainly never been with a man who was so interested in my pleasure. Who saw it as a challenge to make me cum time and time again. He succeeded, and often at that. I had expected him to be through, and ready to go home by that point. I couldn't have been more wrong. He continued to kiss me senseless. The only think I could manage to do was to wrap my fingers in his hair and hold on.

He flipped me back over onto the desk, again, my cheek pressed against the cool surface, and I felt him entering me again from behind. His fingers wrapped around one arm, holding me where he wanted me, and the other hand was busy playing with my clit and bringing me again and again to an ecstasy I'd never even imagined. Finally, he tried to pull out, telling me that he was indeed ready to cum himself. He was worried about me, and whether I wanted him to cum inside me. I begged him. PLEADED with him. That was exactly where I wanted him. Deep inside me, I wanted to feel every pulse, every shot through my sensitive pussy muscles. He was worried about leaving a mess that I'd have to drive home to my husband with, I was beyond worry or thought. I only wanted him inside of me as he came. He relented, and let me have my way. The forcefulness of the cum shooting inside of me, the pulsing of his cock as my muscles milked him, the fullness I felt – they all combined, and had me living the longest orgasm of my life to that point. I felt like I was falling from the stars.

He helped me clean up, ever the gentleman, and kissed me again before I had to leave. It was an afternoon I'll never forget. One burned in my memories so deep, just the thought of that day has me wet again.

Back to pulling this skirt out of my closet – I had put it away and hadn't worn it since that day last October. As I pull it out and put it on, I notice a substantial stain on the back, it seems that we'd left a mess I hadn't realize we had. I quickly threw it in the laundry to be washed and chose another skirt, but just noticing that stain had my thoughts wandering all day. Had my pulse elevated, had me wet and ready. Too bad we don't really see each other anymore. I guess it was fun while it lasted, and we did take the opportunities presented to us to meet and fuck ourselves silly, but that's another story or two. He haunts my dreams, even though it has been eight months since the last time we were together. I guess my growing pregnant belly probably put a halt to our excursions, and after a while, I guess we just moved on. I really don't know. Maybe he has an answer to that as well.

I suppose it is a common office fantasy to be spread across one's desk and fucked senseless, I'm just amazed I got to live it.. I visit that office on occasion, and every time I see my old desk, my body is ready to pick right back up where we left off. My blood pumps, my breathing picks up, and my juices flow. I always wonder if anyone else notices, and if they do, what they think is wrong with me.

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Thanks for reading, I hope it was enjoyable. I welcome feedback.