The Wilson Files

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rwsteward
rwsteward
951 Followers

"Hands to your side," he said. His constant staring at me was freaking me out a bit. Christ, you'd thought there was an oil field hiding between my legs the way he looked at me. I swear I could see him lick his lips, as his glaze seemed to congeal on my body.

"Nice, very nice," he said as his eyes moved back and forth. "It's good to see a bit of a bush. Hell, back in the 70s— now that's when women had some fur. Christ, today, it's as though someone clear cut the forest."

I never thought it was possible to be groped by a pair of eyes, but that's exactly how it felt. Just like a pair of hands running over my half-naked body, those dark eyes of his were stirring my juices. I never considered myself much of an exhibitionist, but somehow, someway, his gaze was turning me on.

I closed my eyes for a second. I remember how my boyfriends in college would undress me in the back of a car. We always had a good time. But, ooh God, if we were making out on the couch while my friends or his were in the other room, I'd wet the cushions. It was such a turn on for me knowing someone was watching us. I couldn't shake the feeling I was being watched by another set of eyes besides Mr. Hudsons. Those old college feelings were resurfacing.

"Your bra next."

My eyes opened and his words brought me back from my college days to his office. My glance caught the mirror on the wall.

By no ones measure could I be considered voluptuous. I do get the attention of men from across a large room. I guess I'd describe my breasts as about the size of apples with perk nipples. I have dark pink areolae around each nipple.

Taking a clue from my shoes and hose, I un-buttoned my shirt as carefully as I could, making sure I'd flash a bit of tan flesh as I laid the collar of my shirt back against my skin. Soon, the front of my bra came to view and I slipped my shirt off. I placed it across the arm of the chair next to me.

It was way to late to have second thoughts. One pastel yellow lace nylon bra contained the last of my decency. Perhaps I've watched too many bad porn videos with my boyfriend, but for whatever reason, I turned my back to him, reached behind with my fingers and popped the clasp of my bra open. I let him see the straps fall loose across my back.

My bra fell across my boobs and I held the bra the best I could with one hand. I turned around and as seductively as I could, holding my bra in my hands, I allowed it to slip lower till one of my nipples escaped from a yellow cup. I heard him moan slightly in the stillness of the office.

I lowered my bra until my breasts were exposed. I felt my nipples twitch.

I did it. I was nude in front of my boss. Who in the fuck would have thought I'd be standing here like this while I was getting ready for work this morning. I have to admit it, I was enjoying this perhaps more than Mr. Hudson. I noticed his right hand had mysteriously disappeared underneath his desk.

Mr. Hudson leaned forward. "Excellent. Lily you have exquisite breasts."

I felt my face blush. I listened to him pour compliments into my soul. It felt good. Damn, did it feel good! Mr. Hudson's words were warm and pleasant to my ears. Like fine expensive wool, his words wove around me like an old warm sweater shielding me from a cold Michigan winter.

I heard him say, "Place your bra on my desk, just above your panties."

Doing as I was told, I returned to the spot between the two chairs. I just stood there waiting for another order. It didn't take long and with the flick of his fingers I knew he want me to part my legs. My feet scuffed into the carpet and I moved my legs apart. I was nude, humiliated, and horny as hell.

My splay legs tumbled. I felt that tingling sensation between my legs I always get when my hormones are in turmoil. Shit, I felt my cunt weep small crystal drops of juice and they quietly flowed down my inner thigh to my knee. I closed my eyes, as I didn't want to see Mr. Hudson's reaction.

Suddenly, the phone rang and I must have jumped twenty feet into the air. I heard Mr. Hudson speak quietly into the phone, I couldn't hear what he was saying, then a smile leaked out at the corners of his mouth.

He put the phone down and the sound of Mr. Hudson's chair moving fill the office. He walked over to a large armoire that blended in so well with the surrounding décor, it was almost invisible—I never noticed it when I came into the office. He fidgeted with a small key he obtained from a pant's pocket. He turned the lock and pulled the double doors open. The hinges squeaked. Curious, I leaned over to my right, trying to sneak a peek at what was hiding inside the inconspicuous chest. I heard some papers rattling and within a minute he closed the doors, locked them, and returned to his desk. He pocketed the key. A small package was in his hands.

"Lily, I don't mind you wearing pantyhose, but what you had on were not at all becoming to you," he said as his fingers opened the package. I heard the sound of cellophane crinkle. He held his hand out. "Here, put these on."

He handed me a pair of thigh highs stockings. I cocked my head to one side. God only knew what else in that chest. The stockings were a transparent stone gray; the color was split between dusk and twilight, but quite sheer. I could tell they were expensive when I ran my fingers across them.

"One at time, and slowly, there's no need to rush this," he said.

Sitting on the chair that was open I slipped my toes inside a stocking and rolled the sheer nylon up my legs as slowly as I could, stopping every few inches to tug the material tight on my leg. I did the same with the other stocking and snapped the lace top against my skin.

Damn it, my pussy was just aching for attention, anyone's attention. I felt what seemed like long streamers of my pussy juice run down the inside of my leg damming up at the lace top of those stockings.

"Lily, are you wet?"

Shit, he noticed, too. I was shocked by his forthright question. I couldn't lie out of it. "Yes..."

He pushed himself from the back of his chair, raised a brow and asked, "Show me."

I hesitated for a few seconds and then as though I had no control over my hands, one hand moved down pass my waist, stopped for a second and then it slipped between my legs. I felt my warm slippery juice surround my fingers. My fingers were submerged in my own lust. I lingered there for a second or two and then pulled my hand out. I raised my hand about waist high, and moved my fingers back and forth across each other. They slid frictionless. My fingers glistened in the dim light of the room.

"Excellent! Put your heels on, then your shirt."

"My bra? Panties?" I asked with a slight begging tone thrown in for good measure. He didn't reply. The old bastard had me hot and he didn't do a damn thing but ask me to strip for him. I noticed another long rivulet of cunt juice as it twisted down my leg.

With his hands folded on his desk, his eyes watching my every move, his finger pointed at my skirt on the chair. "You can put that on now. I'll leave the rest here for safe keeping."

I stepped back into my skirt and the metal catch found its way into the hook and I pulled the zipper up. I straighten my skirt around my waist and stood there. There I was, naked under my clothing. No bra, no panties. Mr. Hudson handed me the Wilson folder. "A few names need to be verified. I'll email you when I think you'll have them ready."

"But--"

"I'll send you an email."

God! My pussy on was on fire, pleading for some attention and he calmly tells me he'll send me an email? What the fuck!

Taking the folder from his hand, I stopped for a second and looked down at my bra and panties still lying on his desk. I turned and walked to those huge doors and then out of his office.

I didn't make it twelve steps when it dawned on me. I had suntan hose on when I went into his office and I'm coming out with translucent gray stockings on. Sure has hell, someone will notice the difference.

As I made a few turns down the hallway to my office, I quickly noticed my nipples were rubbing against the fabric of my shirt. Little-by-little they plumped up and pushed out against the material. They were begging to get out from underneath my shirt. With each step they grew larger, fuller, and longer. It seemed as though a blacksmith forged them in the heat of a furnace, making them so hot and pointy they could burn through the very fabric that held them prisoner. I pressed the manila folder up to my chest, hiding the truth from my friends. And the truth was? That old man got me so fucking horny; I'd screw a monk if one happened to walk by.

Trying not to break into a run, I made my way to my office cubical as quickly as I could. My heart pounded in my chest. My skin felt flushed. I sat down nervously—the fabric of the chair felt rough on my bare ass. I tried to push some of my skirt under me. I was a total mess. I pushed myself up as close to my desk as possible and stared at a blank monitor. My fingers shook as I pressed the space bar, waking up the terminal. I just stared at the screen for a few moments then I pressed 'F5' refresh. Nothing. The email screen remained blank. I scanned the office, everyone seemed to be busy, and they didn't seem to know or even care about my problem.

I started to feel a bit more at ease with my nakedness under my clothing. There was something naughty about being nude under my business attire. I closed my eyes for a moment when I noticed my hand had worked under the hem of the skirt. I bit down on my lip while my fingers explored the wetness between my thighs. I couldn't recall when I've been like this. Perhaps during college when the only thing between being totally naked during a game of strip poker was a pair of very wet pantyhose and three aces. I touched the soft moist hairs between my legs. The tip of a finger meandered through my short hairs.

"Shit!" I looked up; Lisa was standing next to my desk. I didn't hear her coming.

'F5' refresh. Nothing.

"How'd it go in the big man's office? Didn't catch hell did you?" Lisa asked.

"No, everything is fine. No problems."

We chatted about nothing of importance for a few minutes. I'd kept pushing the F5 button refreshing the email with my left hand. My fingers were still between my legs. I knew she had to know something was up. Lisa might be an airhead, but she's not stupid.

I followed her eyes to my thighs and my hand under my skirt. "Problems down there, Lily?" Lisa asked.

My mind raced and within nanoseconds I invented a quick lie. "Damn file cabinet snagged my pantyhose. All I had were a pair of stockings and I can't seem to get the tops to stay up."

"Bummer," Lisa said, "I was just curious about your meeting. Thought maybe he'd tell you how work looks around here. I'll talk to you later."

Lisa wiggled her ass down the walkway toward her little corner of bliss.

I looked at the clock. It was well pass four in the afternoon and soon the office would close for the evening. I thought perhaps Mr. Hudson's phone call had priority over me and he simply forgot. I pressed 'F5' refresh button. My heart stopped. The email icon turned red, a new message was in my mailbox. My fingers shook. What I wanted an hour ago, I was now deadly afraid of.

The email was short and to the point. 'I'd like to review the Wilson file with you. Bring it in as soon as possible.'

"Fuck."

I glanced at the clock, it was now a quarter till five. Most of the staff was busy shutting done equipment and getting ready to go home. I grabbed the folder, held it to my chest and made a beeline back to the corporate offices. The first two secretaries had already gone home. I walked up to the desk of the last secretary as she was shutting down her terminal.

"Miss Richards—"

"He's expecting you. I hope you have everything in order. Mr. Hudson doesn't like to be disappointed."

I returned a half-hearted smile and walked over to those huge doors. I heard the electric latch buzz and I pulled a door open.

I entered his domain, this time instead of an English pub, I felt like I was in a medieval castle. Gone was the glow from the desk light and computer monitor, in their place cracked crystal glass sconces mounted on the walls were dimmed low and illuminated the darkened room. I didn't see Mr. Hudson so I sheepishly called out his name.

"Mr. Hudson. Ah, Lily Richards with the Wilson file. I'm back."

I heard a door open and just when I turned my back the light from that open door stabbed my eyes. I turned away and the door closed. Twilight once again enveloped the room.

Mr. Hudson walked over to me, gone were the expensive pants and designer suit. In their place he wore a deep burgundy red smoking jacket tied together around his waist by two fluffy ties. His feet were bare.

I drew in a big gulp of air. I knew what was going down. I swallowed hard. Mr. Hudson sat down on the leather sofa, he draped his arms along the back and looked at me like I was some kind of tribute offered to him by a defeated army. Mr. Hudson, a knight from the famed King Authur's round table, his hauberk removed while a servant maiden was busy polishing it to a metallic luster in another chamber. His halberd and morion were being made ready for another quest. I stood before him, the spoils of a victory.

I reached behind my head and loosened a silver hair clip. I shook my head, then ran my fingers through my hair, a cataract of golden hair streamed down over my shoulders. A shadow of a smile touched his lips then the corners of his eyes crinkled in delight. His smile broaden.

"Put the folder on my desk and step in front of me." His voice was low and confident in the stillness of the office.

I placed the folder on the desk; my panties and bra lay undisturbed from earlier that day. I took the few steps back and stood before him.

With his arms still lying across the back of the sofa, his eyes were scanning my body; I thought I heard the soft sigh of a child.

"Lily, take your skirt off and place it on the chair."

I reached behind my back and fumbled with the hook and zipper. Quicker than the last time, I pealed the garment down my waist, pass my hips then tugged it from my feet. That tingle I had felt earlier had returned with a vengeance. I looked at Mr. Hudson. That small grin on his face had grown into a full-blown smile.

"Your shirt now."

My breasts were more than eager to be freed from the prison that held them. I dropped my shirt onto the floor. My eyes glanced down and I saw my nipples, puffy and erect, begging for attention. I gulped down a few more quick breaths of air.

"Come closer," he said as he wiggled his finger at me, his arms still lying across the back of the sofa.

I took a few steps in. He wiggled his finger. Two more steps. Another wiggle. I moved in till my knees were touching the sofa's brown leather cushion.

There was no hiding the fact I was turned on. Twin droplets of warm cunt juice collected then combined with others to finally drip down onto the carpet. I watched his eyes as they caught and then followed those long drops of liquid as they wept from my cunt.

I knew what he wanted. He wanted to hear the liquid sounds of sex I will make as I push aside my small inner lips apart and touch myself in the most intimate way. He wants to know he can still make a young woman swollen, sodden and compromised. He wants proof of his manhood. I swayed in my heels as I proceeded to prove to him the man he still is; the man of his youth. I closed my eyes and the room fills with the sounds of my fingers moving in and out of my cunt— the sounds of wet sex.

I jumped. Mr. Hudson's hands were tugging the tops of my stockings up, pulling the sheer nylon tight against my skin. He pulled so tight; he raised my shoes off the carpet.

"I like that," he said. A look of deep satisfaction filled his face, while bright shards of lust filled his eyes.

Mr. Hudson placed his arms back across the sofa. His knees were apart. I followed his eyes to the two burgundy ties around his waist. I knew.

I bent down, my breasts changed shape as I leaned in. I felt his hand on a breast, then the other. Ooh, God, finally!

He rolled a nipple between his fingers, cupping my breast with his other hand. My eyes were closed and I relished his gentle touch. He took my breasts into his hands, leaned out and kissed each nipple, running his tongue across the tip. I shuddered where I stood. A pair of fingers parted my hair between my legs and returned to my breasts, smearing my juice onto a breast, which is quickly licked off. My knees began to buckle.

I reached down the pulled on one of the ties around his jacket. I pushed one side then the other apart.

My heart stopped. My breaths slowed, then they too, stopped. His body was well trimmed, while tan lines marked the outline of a non-existing bathing suit. A few chest hairs, silver in color, dotted his upper body. Mr. Hudson was lean and well built. He took good care of his body as I could see the results sitting before me.

Suddenly, my eyes caught Mr. Hudson's cock, which stood erect between his legs. I could tell he was proud of it by the way he smiled. Hell, a man in his twenties would have been just as proud. His cock bobbed and swayed back and forth like a snake ready to strike out at any second. Mr. Hudson's fingers wrapped around the shaft, leaving more than enough room for a second hand. One slow longing stroke of his hand, and a single opal drop of cum seemed to boil to the top. It glistened in the dim light from the sconces. I reached down and squeezed the droplet between my fingers. Slippery and warm to the touch, I raised my fingertips to my lips and tasted his cum. It was salty and musky. I wanted more.

Mr. Hudson removed his grip and his cock stood erect proclaiming its dominance over me. The maiden, the damsel, the prize of victory, the office worker, I was all of that. I was his. Whispers of apprehension flowed over my body. Mr. Hudson's splayed thighs trembled as his muscles twitched and lurched.

I was having second thoughts about telling him no sex. I wanted that cock. I wanted to feel it fill me. I thought about my boyfriend, but there would be no parley when it came to him. I'd stay true with my word.

I bit my lips, I felt my knees weaken and I lowered myself between his legs, my hand on that magnificent cock, my lips touched the cock head.

Hot. I felt his heart beating against my lips. I took in the scent of his body, the cologne he wore, the salty, lusty smell of a man read to explode. I flipped a handful of my hair over my shoulders and let a curtain of gold tumble down upon his cock. He moaned out softly.

"What would you like me to do?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Kiss it. Please, Lily."

His voice had a beggar's tone to it as I moved my head back and fourth allowing my hair to tease the very tip of his cock. It now stood at attention, like an angry soldier standing in formation just waiting on permission from me.

I placed his cock to my lips, the head swollen and red, I licked the small slit and caught a drop, and then another drop of cum as it oozed to the tip. I reached down into the curly patch of brown hair growing at the root and wrapped my fingertip around several, pulling them gently away from his body. His torso moved, then jerked with every gentle tug of my finger. Mr. Hudson, a knight of old perhaps in this dark and forbidding room, but for now, I was his tormentor. I noticed his hands moving up to my breasts, inviting and so tempting, but I pushed his hands away.

"Please, Lily." His voice took on a new urgency.

I allowed him to cup my breasts, palming them with his hands while I wrapped my fingers around his cock. Reaching down between his legs, I scooped up his sac and rolled his jewels between my fingers.

rwsteward
rwsteward
951 Followers