The Thrill Of It All Ch. 01

Copyright © May 2022 by CiaoSteve

CiaoSteve reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work. This story cannot be published, as a whole or in part, without the express agreement of the author other than the use of brief extracts as part of a story review.

This is a work of fiction. All sexually active characters in this story are over 18. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

Author's Notes

To my muse... slutty, submissive, adventurous, explicit, satisfying, intriguing, inspiring, exciting... you know who you are, and I hope you find a piece of yourself within this story.

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It had seemed like the longest Friday ever.

Roberta sat there in the office, watching the clock slowly tick away. Her mind was somewhere else. Picking up her phone, she glanced again at the message, then down at her overly full shoulder bag. Oh yes, she had everything prepared, everything he had suggested, plus a little surprise of her own. It was only a matter of time... finding the right time to slip away and get ready for what she hoped was going to be another most satisfying night, or even weekend.

Hers was a small office, some four or five desks tucked away behind a partition wall, a door offering the element of seclusion she needed given the sensitivity of her work. It was seldom busy, and just like today, there were usually only one or two of them in the office at any one time. Roberta liked it this way as it gave her a touch of privacy to go with the seclusion. The work might have been mundane, but Roberta was far from it.

You see, just like the rest of us, Roberta had secrets. Hers though... hers were of the type you didn't really want to be sharing with everybody... well, not always, and not intentionally.

Roberta read the message once more.

'Pick you up straight from work. Dress to impress.'

Her husband had been away for the last few days, on business, and whenever he was away, he always arranged something for the night he returned. Roberta smiled. Oh yes, he always arranged something, and it usually went with a bang... or more to the point, she usually got banged. This time was a little different to most in that he hadn't told her what the plan was... at least not until earlier that very morning.

Roberta had another reason for smiling. This time there was a wry edge to her expression. That message had come so close to making Roberta late for work. She was half way out of the door when her phone buzzed. It was lucky she had it in her hand, or Roberta might not even have checked until she got into the office.

As she was about to leave the house, Roberta had read the message, and her heart had jumped. Instantly, there was only one thing on her mind. She had rushed back upstairs to find something suitable, but what had John meant by dress to impress? Was that smart? Was that sexy? Was that slutty? Who exactly was she meant to be impressing?

In the end Roberta had gone for a combination of smart and sexy, with a little added extra to ensure slutty wasn't too far away, even if it was out of sight. After so much time spent searching for appropriate attire, Roberta had only just made it to the station, jumping into the train as the doors slid closed.

That was all those hours ago. Now, Roberta sat in the office willing time to fly by. At her side, packed into her large shoulder bag was the outfit she had chosen, the outfit she hoped would impress. What John had done was so typical of him, and it was so what she liked about her darling husband. He was direct. He was demanding. He always got whatever he wanted... well... almost always.

You see, that was one of Roberta's secrets. She liked to be controlled... to be told what to do... to be given orders... to follow them to the letter... to... to... to submit to his every command.

The clock hit four-thirty, and Roberta glanced around. It was just her and Moira in today. The latter was fully engrossed in her work. Roberta smiled towards her close-to-retirement-aged colleague. There was no response from Moira.

Roberta took a deep breath then reached inside her bag. One by one, she took out the contents; a leather-look skirt, see-through black mesh knickers, a tight-fitting stretch top, stay-ups, a small make-up bag, and... her heart skipped a beat as she hid the added extra inside the bundle of clothes. John had asked her to dress to impress, and that was exactly what she was going to do... dress to impress, and dress to surprise.

Roberta stood up.

"Back soon," Roberta said, trying her best to hide the bundle of clothes behind her back when she noticed that her colleague had looked up in her direction.

Without waiting for any response, and once again trying her best to keep the change in outfit hidden, Roberta slipped out of her office and headed for the rest rooms. It wasn't a long walk, but all the way her pulse was racing. She loved to dress up for her darling husband. She loved to dress in a way that would have eyes turning. She loved the thought that others would be looking at her, admiring her, ogling her. All the time, Roberta was playing to her admirers, knowing inside that she would only ever give herself to one man.

It wasn't just the idea of people staring at her which Roberta loved. She also loved the thrill of being ordered how to dress, of not having a choice in what she wore. Usually, John would be explicit. Stockings, suspenders, and a garter belt, were a favourite, hidden beneath more conventional office attire. Commando was another of his preferred choices, again hidden beneath appropriate attire, especially when it came to the blouse. Hidden? Well, most of the time they would be hidden, but sometimes... Roberta felt butterflies in her stomach as she thought about those times... the ones when John had gone a step further and ordered her to be more revealing.

Today though... well, John had given an order, but he had given Roberta free rein to decide exactly how to interpret that order. She had chosen and, in her heart, Roberta knew John would be pleased... but what if he wasn't? Was this a test? Was this an opportunity to punish Roberta for getting it wrong? Roberta wasn't quite sure which she wished for; to be pleasured or to be punished, or even both.

Roberta pushed the rest room door open, hoping it would be empty inside. It was. The only question on her mind was where to change. There was plenty of room around the washbasins, but there was the risk of somebody else walking in, catching Roberta in a state of undress. Any other time, Roberta might have chanced it, but not today, not with what she held in her hand.

Roberta placed her make-up bag at the side of one of the sinks, retrieved a tiny bottle from inside, then slipped into a cubicle, closing the door behind her. It was cramped, but it would have to do. Carefully, Roberta hung the new outfit on the hook behind the door. She grabbed a handful of tissue and placed it on the small shelf behind the toilet. On top of the tissue, Roberta carefully placed the small pump bottle of clear gel, and the added extra she had planned as a surprise for her husband. She couldn't help herself but give the latter a little shake before placing it down. She couldn't help herself but smile as the metal jiggled in her hand. Yes, there was a surprise within this surprise; one surprise for hubby, and another for Roberta.

Quickly, Roberta reached around her shoulders, pulled the zip down at the back of her grey shift dress, and let it fall to the floor. Any other time, she would have enjoyed the thrill of stripping off in front of her husband, performing for him as teasingly as she could. Now though... now wasn't the time. Get changed, get out of there, and have the night with her darling John was all Roberta had on her mind.

The black tights, thick, opaque, and so very forgiving, were next to go, followed by comfortable rather than sexy matching bra and panties. For a moment Roberta stood there, naked. She had to admit, she was no spring chicken any more. The forty-something years had put pay to the perfect figure, not that she had ever been modelesque. At five foot eight, she was a little too short to be strutting her stuff on the catwalk anyway, nor was her figure anywhere near skinny enough.

Roberta wasn't fat, by any means. She was curvy in as much as she had wide hips, a narrow but not tiny waist, and broad flat rather than sloped shoulders. Yes, there was an odd pound or two picked up over the years, around hips, thighs, and ass, but not to the point of being unattractive. Even the tell-tale creases of older age had, so far, kept their distance.

Roberta took care of her appearance, cleansing and toning to keep her youthful looks, with just a modicum of make-up to paint a picture of beauty. Her shoulder length wavy blonde hair was neatly coiffured, and her eyebrows were carefully shaped. Oh yes, and as for the rest of her body... there wasn't a wisp of hair anywhere else to be seen. She liked it that way--in her mind the touch on her bare sex was so more sensitive than when she sported a full bush--and so did John.

What Roberta might have lacked in physical perfection, she more than made up for in passion. Even after a decade and a half of marital bliss, their lust for each other was as strong as ever, and even after so many years, they were still discovering each other. Yes, that was another of Roberta's secrets. Not only did Roberta like to be commanded, to be told what to do, she also had an insatiable appetite for sex. Even better, she had a husband who loved nothing more than to satisfy her every desire, and some she didn't know she had.

Theirs was a most passionate love affair... an, at times, all-consuming, love affair.

As she thought about the evening ahead, Roberta glanced down at the toy she had so carefully placed atop that piece of tissue. Two shining silver balls, connected by a length of black cord, glinted in the bright light of the rest room. They never disappointed her, especially these heavier weight balls. Oh yes, Roberta was going to enjoy wearing her love balls, and more so, she was going to enjoy John finding her little surprise.

Roberta smiled.

There was an easy way to do this, or there was a more satisfying way to do this. The answer should have been common sense; lube them up, ease them inside, get dressed, and get out of there before anyone else entered the rest rooms. That though was Roberta's third and final secret. She got a thrill out of the risk; the risk of being caught, the risk of being heard, the risk of being seen, the risk of being outed for what she really was, the risk of being chastised for her misdemeanours.

Beneath the professional exterior, and very much in private, Roberta was something of a wanton slut, or at least that was how she saw herself.

She ran her hands over her naked breasts, caressing every curve of her C-cup sized bust, stroking every slight sag of middle-aged flesh, feeling every imperfection. Her nipples were soon standing proud, excited by a combination of the thought of what Roberta hoped was coming later, and the softness of the touch across her tender flesh.

Roberta enjoyed the moment. She ran one hand down over her not quite washboard-flat stomach. Her fingers traced lines across her shaven mound, inching ever closer and closer to her bare slit.

Roberta gasped as her fingers reached her apex. She spread her feet apart, reached deeper between her legs, and started to toy at her outer lips. Roberta moaned softly, then suddenly remembered where she was. She bit her lip as she continued to work at her sex, caressing the length of her slit, then easing her labia apart. Already Roberta could feel a dampness under her fingertips, and an ache in her loins.

It felt good, so good, but Roberta needed more. If she was going to slide these metal balls up inside, then she needed more than just a little dampness. That's where the bottle came in. She could squirt a little on her fingers, then work it up inside. A little more on the balls themselves would make them slide in effortlessly.

Or...

"Mmmm," Roberta moaned softly as she changed positions, all the time continuing to work at her inner folds.

Roberta turned around, and leaned back against the wall of the cubicle, gasping as the chill hit her naked back. She lifted one foot and placed it on the closed lid of the toilet seat. She started to enjoy herself.

Dampness soon gave way to wetness, as Roberta worked her fingers across her slick inner folds. She was breathing quickly, passions soon starting to take over. It was an effort, but Roberta managed to hold back the moans as she rimmed her opening. Even the squeal as she teased at her clit was a muted affair, as was the gasp when, finally, Roberta sank a long finger up inside.

Oh yes, she was wet, so very wet. She should have been easing those balls up inside, with just a touch of lube to make sure they slid effortlessly into place. That said, what harm would it do to prolong this moment, to enjoy herself for just a little longer?

Roberta closed her eyes and continued to work her finger in and out of her opening. She was stifling the moans but could do nothing to hide the panted breaths. It was becoming too much. She could feel the embers of climax smouldering into life. She could hear...

"Shit!" Roberta whispered to herself, quickly opening her eyes.

She had heard it, even above her panted breaths. It was the creak of a heavy door opening and closing, followed by the click of what must have been heels on tiled floor. For a moment, Roberta froze. She heard another door open and close, this time with more of a wooden sounding bang.

The realisation sank in.

Roberta was no longer alone.

Playtime was over.

She needed to be quick, and she needed to get out of there. Roberta withdrew her finger. She couldn't resist bringing it up to her mouth and sampling her own sweet juices, but soon turned her attention to the task in hand.

Roberta grabbed the bottle off the shelf and squeezed a glob of lube onto each of the silver balls. She smeared the slick gel around all sides and picked the toy up in one hand. Roberta bit her lip to stifle any moans and, for good measure, flushed the toilet. As the sound of running water filled the bathroom, Roberta eased first one then the other ball up inside, leaving the loop of black cord dangling down, the only clue to what was now hidden in her sweet sex.

'Oh god,' she thought to herself as she brought her leg down from atop the toilet seat and, for the first time, felt the balls move.

There was no time to dally though. There was no time to enjoy the exquisite caress deep inside. Roberta grabbed the mesh knickers and quickly put them on, making sure the loop from the hidden toy was tucked discretely under the gusset. She glanced down and saw the front end of her slit clearly through the see-through front. Oh yes, John would love these, and the surprise hidden inside.

Quickly, or at least as quick as she could with the balls jiggling around inside, Roberta put on her stay-ups. Just like the tights she had taken off, these were also black, but that was where the similarity ended. The tights were a soft, opaque, thick denier, whereas the stay-ups were sheer, almost shiny black. Then there was the pattern. Running vertically up the back of each nylon clad leg, was a faux lace-up panel, nude nylon contrasting with the sheer black lines. If that wasn't going to catch his eye, to draw his gaze up towards her plump ass, then nothing was.

Roberta grabbed her white top, lifted her arms, and pulled it down over her head. It was nowhere near as tantalising as the stay-ups, but the effect was just as stunning. The stretchy fabric clung to her every curve, holding Roberta's breasts firmly in place, two full mounds each topped off with a tender sensitive nipple.

'Damn,' Roberta thought to herself as she noticed the way her hard nubs pushed at the fabric.

There was no hiding them, nor was there any going back now. How long did she have? From the sounds nearby, not long at all.

Roberta turned her attention towards her skirt. She'd chosen it with him in mind. He'd made no secret about a love of tight clingy legwear; leather, latex, rubber... yes, he loved them all. Roberta didn't have such trousers--she'd often wondered what it would be like to wear them, or even more so to wear a whole catsuit made of stretchy rubber, clinging seductively to her bare skin.

One day, she thought to herself. One day she would invest in rubber or Lycra, but for now, the closest she could get was her black leather-look skirt. It wasn't leather of course but did come with the advantage of being both stretchy and oh so tight, with an exquisite pencil shape albeit only down to mid-thigh. Buttons ran down the front, with a high waist and integral buckle style belt.

Roberta undid the buckle and the top couple of buttons. She stepped into the skirt and wiggled it up and over her hips. What a mistake. Roberta almost came there and then as the balls in her pussy jiggled to the tune of her wiggle. She paused for a moment, took a couple of deep breaths, then finished off pulling up the skirt.

With the buckle and buttons done up once more, Roberta was dressed. She glanced as far over her shoulder as she could. The stretch of the fabric clung to her hips and ass in a most seductive way, smoothing out any imperfections. As for length... well, standing up there was enough leather to cover the tops of those stay-ups. Sitting down might be another prospect.

Roberta slipped her heels back on and picked her discarded office attire up from where it lay on the floor.

A second flush of the toilet got rid of the tissue, and then she emerged, totally transformed from the conventional office worker who had entered minutes before. Roberta rushed over to her make-up bag, once more regretting the sudden movement.

'Damn,' she thought to herself again as the balls slid inside. It wasn't that they were uncomfortable, nor that they took her by surprise. It was that they... god... they were so good, so sensual, so stimulating, so keeping her right on the edge.

Roberta glanced in the mirror. She'd managed to control the breathing, but there was still a flush of warmth in her face and, still, those most obviously swollen nipples. That said, she didn't look half bad. Dressed to impress? Well, almost. There was just one more touch before the outfit was complete.

Roberta grabbed a wipe out of her wash bag and went to work. Off came the delicate pinky-taupe shade of lipstick, her usual sensual colour she wore to the office. Roberta picked up a different lipstick from her bag. It was a sultrier red tone, one which was deep, dark, and most definitely screamed kiss me. Oh yes, all that was needed was a little lippie and then she would be dressed to impress. John wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her, which was just what Roberta was hoping for.

Roberta was so caught up in staring at her own reflection that she didn't hear the clink of heels on tiles once more. It took her quite by surprise when a young voice called out from behind.

"Roberta... I thought it was you."

Roberta glanced around. It was one of the receptionists, a young woman half her age. Where Roberta had snuck off to change in the toilets, to go from conservative middle-age to flirtatious forty-something, Diana would wear such suggestive outfits every day. It wasn't exactly surprising, as Diana had the body to get away with it.

There was something so appealing about those who were diminutive of stature, were blessed with huge tits, and chose to sport peroxide blonde... at least there was something which appealed to every man in this place of work. No wonder everybody stopped off to say hello when Diana was in the office.