Will's First Time in Office

The view out the window of our office was wonderful. Fall was in full glory, and the forest below was its calling card. Brilliant gold's, yellows, browns, and reds were rich and vibrant, and when taken as a whole, blended into a river of color. The crispness in the air echoed the crunching of the fallen leaves on the brick entrance path leading in a round about manner through a copse of trees from the parking area. Actually the winding pathway was one of the charms of our otherwise austere building. The path which seemed like a boundary to your thoughts. It was as if on one side was the business world, and on the other your world after hours.

Until the day Brenda joined out team.

Brenda's hair was a rich auburn, and was the first thing which caught my attention. Her face was actually gender neutral, and athletic to the point some might say elfin. Yet, she could hold an elevator with just a smile - no words were needed. Brenda's eyes were the color of rich oak paneling and sparkled life, especially when she was excited.

There were times when Brenda's eyes made you think of a mischievous child who was up to something they shouldn't be, and you'd just caught them. She was a delightfully playful person full of laughter and free with her smiles. She was comfortable herself and it showed.

There were also those times when she could look at you like a predator sizing up its prey just before the pounce. Happily though, those looks were reserved for spread sheets and our database for the most part. The few times I saw her look at people that way, they usually caved into whatever she wanted and left as quickly as possible. Even our manager who practiced his aristocratic swagger like a martial art, was quick to leave when Brenda eye's were stormy.

Brenda was very bright and proved to be a great addition to our team. She quickly learned the specifics of our daily routine, and IT applications. But more than just a fast learner, everything she did she did with a passion. From the mundane to the multi-million dollar, she did it all the way or not at all.

Brenda also had the knack for seeing what was what before anyone else even suspected there was any subterfuge in the sales pitch or departmental presentation. This was part of the reason most of the men in our group were afraid to hit on her. Oh she was talked about enough. Her 34B breasts were perfect on her athletic frame. Her hips were firm and muscular from exercise. Her legs long and lithe as you might expect to see on some who was part of a dance company. She was. Her hands were those of a piano player; nimble and accurate. Even her feet were attractive. She was a complete a package of athletic elegant and grace of movement as there ever was.

Right away, Brenda became the late night dream of just about every single dick in the group, and a few of the married ones as well. Even people from other nearby departments would take more time around her than needed - if they could get away with it.

Brenda knew she was an attention getter, and she played the part well. She seemed to know how far to push the edge with both the women and the men. When it suited her, she wasn't above making waves by her body language or her dress. Likewise, when she didn't like the attention she was getting from someone, she would ever so politely shut them down. It was a tough thing to balance; trying to not be branded as either easy or a tease.

Oh I admit I had my fantasies about her. But as appealing as she was, I had no interest in risking getting sued or loosing my job. I thought of it as the best of both worlds; great work and great eye candy in the same package. But down inside I knew if eye candy could add pounds and inches, I'd need more than my daily trips to the running trails down by the river, and the occasional marathon.

It was approaching Halloween and one of the other team members, Tom, was spending more time trying to put the moves on her than on his regular work. When one of Tom's clients contacted me directly and complained about the lack of attention they were getting, I knew I'd better say something. As much fun as it was watching Tom - I am God's gift to women - get shot down in flames on a regular basis, I knew the client was right. I said I would deal with the matter, and make sure the back log of work for them was caught up.

I approached Tom on Friday afternoon about the matter. He made some lame excuse about it, and how he didn't appreciate being scolded by someone who could have been his son. I told him I wasn't trying to make a big issue out of it, he just needed to focus on his work.

I knew I also had to approach Brenda. As diplomatically as I could I told her she had to ease up on Tom. Yes, I know he's an easy mark - but still, Tom's spending more time trying to pump up his ego after he gets it deflated for him than he's spending on his work. She looked up at me with those mischievous eyes and giggled at that statement. I thought I was in trouble, but then she said she knew I was right, and agreed to take it easy on Tom. I thanked her, and told her I appreciated her help. This wasn't an easy conversation to have - with her or anyone. She asked why?

I thought I was handling the situation well, but all I heard was "Danger Will Robinson, Danger!" running through my mind.

She looked at me with her x-ray eyes and said "you're great at giving the company line and even making it sound good." I fumbled over saying "thanks...I think". She smiled and said it was a compliment, even if it didn't sound like one.

I smiled at the gentle poke and left saying I had to figure out what I had to do to catch up the backlog over the weekend. I thought the matter was closed.

I was wrong.

Saturday morning I ran my usual trail route down by the river bank and through the park. The run itself was a good. But the scenery was a blur. All I seemed to be able to concentrate on was her eyes. And the hint of cleavage Brenda had discreetly been displaying the day before. I could sure understand why Tom was so taken by her. I was so distracted by her, I stumbled over a rock I usually hurdle over. As I fought to keep my feet I almost collided with another runner who had tagged their mile marker and was heading back. They said I should be glad I wasn't running on the roadside - I'd be a lump in a ditch by now. That sure got my thoughts refocused.

But somewhere in the back of my head I kept hearing "Danger Will Robinson, Danger!". I often hated my parents for naming me Will for just that reason.

I went home after my run to get a shower before heading on over to the office. I pulled into our building's parking lot about 2:00 in the afternoon. I knew it would be quiet, with hardly anyone in the building except for the security guard which randomly patrolled the outer area of the entry floor. I let myself in the inner doors and headed for the elevator.

By around 6:00 that evening I had caught up what needed to be done. I thought about going home. But since there wasn't anything there that was really appealing, I decided to stay and try to get ahead on my one of own projects. I turned up my desk radio a bit and got lost in thought.

After about an hour or so I became aware of someone typing. I stood up and looked out from my cubicle's tall walls to see if I could tell from where it was coming from. I noticed the lamp in Brenda's cube was on, so I walked over to see what was going on.

Brenda was sitting there with her back to me. She was dressed to kill. She was wearing a red print silk blouse, with a burgundy lace jacket over it. Her rust colored leather skirt made the perfect subtle match. It looked as if she was headed for a night on the town.

I was stunned. I knew she always dressed well in the office, and suspected she really turned up the heat when she was going out. There had been many a conversation around the coffee machine about whether she preferred thongs or nothing at all on those days she wore a pants suit to the office. More than once the length of her skirts had been known to nearly cause a riot. But I'd never seen her wear anything like this.

Then she turned her chair around and I saw her long tanned legs, snaking out from under her skirt. They looked like long smooth runways for someone's hands. My cock was beginning to stir, when she looked up at me and smiled.

I said "Hi. You look like you should be out on a date or something, what brings you here?"

"Probably the same thing that brought you here. Though I thought you drove a green 5 series. I was surprised to see a truck in your parking spot." She said this smiling a knowing little smile

"You know what kind of car I drive?" I replied, completely loosing track of the conversation I has tried to start.

She responded "Oh yeah. You always park in that same spot on the second car row, next to the center island and the walk way."

"Am I that much a creature of habit?" I asked.

Brenda said rather matter-of-factly "Will, most of us are. We all have our patterns of doing things. It isn't right or wrong, its just who we are and how we do things. That's what business counts on isn't it?"

I knew she was right, but it was little unnerving. "Yeah, but I never thought if me being under the microscope."

She smiled and shifted in her chair to draw one of her legs under her. As her skirt rode just a little higher, before she pressed it back down, did I see a dark color, or was that her I just got a glimpse of?

"Bet you don't know what kind of a car I drive" she said.

Taking the bait I said "Well...let me think about this. You always have a elegant, conservative look, but with a bit of a playful edge. So if I were guessing I'd say you drove something to match. Nothing domestic, definitely an import I'm sure of it."

She giggled.

Turning on the worst Sherlock Holmes imitation known to man I said "I'd put my money on a C class, or maybe a Lexus."

She laughed out loud this time.

"Dead wrong." Trying not to make it worse and failing terribly, she continued "You are so dead wrong."

"All right..." I said, "Due tell."

"I drive something you'd never in a million years guess" she said. "But I'll give you a hint. Its big and domestic. I learned that from my former husband."

But what did the former mean? Was she divorced?

"Great you drive a Hummer..." I said jokingly. "Wait a minute...I know where you work so that's right out - but it is definitely a SUV of some kind" I said smugly. Our parking lot of full of them every day, I was sure I was on the right track.

"Greg was a police officer. We always bought a new Crown Vic every year. I still do."

I never knew she'd ever been married, let alone what he did. Of course with him being a cop that answered a lot of questions about her being able to handle attention and banter which was pretty close to the line maybe even over it.

"Greg and I always believed in going after what was important to us. You don't get many second chances, and fewer when its a crisis. He died in the line of duty on answering a domestic dispute call. But he saved the lady's life - so he's happy with the way it ended I guess."

"I'm not trying to be thick here, but I'm really not sure what to say. You sound proud of him, but I keep thinking I should say I'm sorry."

"Oh no worries. I don't talk about him a lot, but I am very proud of Greg. Tough as nails when he needed to be, but gentle as a kitten inside. He was a great guy...and hung like a horse."

Yikes! I obviously twitched at that statement.

She smiled and said "Whose time are we on?"

"Huh?" I asked.

"Seriously, whose time are we on?" she replied. "If we're on our time, that's one thing. If we're on company time, then we should get back to work, though I for one am a little distracted. You do fill a pair of jeans Will."

I blinked. "Did you just make a pass at me?"

"Yes. But if you're uncomfortable I'll stop now. I don't want to be brought up on harassment charges." she said with a coy smile. "Why do you think asked whose time we were on?"

She could tell I was searching for the right words when she broke my thoughts by reaching out and touching my hand. "Now you're being thick. I know the policies, and I know how you try to be the good cop with everyone, as well as cover you cute ass. But I'm not trying to get any advancement, or benefit over anyone else. I just want to get laid."

I swallowed hard as she stood up. She reached around me and pulled herself close to me. "Like I said I believe in going after the things I want." Her breasts touched my chest ever so slightly as her hand came to rest on my back pocket.

"Now if you're worried about having crossed a line, one - I made the first move, as well as the next several after that. Two - we're only paid on Monday through Friday. This is Saturday night. Any questions?"

My cock was trying to reposition itself straight up, but my jeans weren't willing. I hoped she hadn't noticed, but then again it could be a good thing if she had.

"Now if you want to cross that line with me, then we're on our time. Either way, I've got an itch deep down inside me and I'm telling you as a fact Will, you're the one I want to scratch it." As she said as she took a slight step back and brought her free hand around to my zipper, gently tugging at the material and helping my member finally stand straight up.

"Glad to know I finally have your full attention." she smiled.

"You've had my attention for several months," I said. "But you've never once given a hint that you'd date anyone in the office. Well except for Stacey - and man did that set off fireworks."

"Yeah... I know. I did it mostly for the fun of winding certain people up who've been wondering about which team I play for. I actually play for both if you want to know. And I did think about Stacey for a little bit, but figured out it wouldn't be worth it. She'd like to explore that side of her, but I'm past college fumblings with roommates and frat boys. Besides, I don't think she knows discretion. And its the lack of discretion which gets people into trouble."

I felt a little tug at my belt, as she started undoing it.

"You know you still haven't answered by question; whose time are we on?" she said with a look that could have melted ice. I felt my zipper being pulled down just a little.

I said "Its hard to say to be honest with you. People say a hard cock has no conscience. And this is happening a lot faster than I'm used to..."

I felt her hand slip inside my pants and wrap around my aching member. Gently so as to not catch my public hair, she eased her hand down to the base of my cock. With her finger tips she rolled the skin of my scrotum between my balls.

"You're right about that...you're rock hard." she said withdrawing her hand from my pants and bringing her other one around front. She folded the fly of my pants away, and eased my shorts outwards. I felt the cool of the air conditioning reaching the head of my aching cock. Then felt her hand go back to where it had been. "Sorry, I needed more room to play" she smiled.

"Are you looking for a quick fuck, or something more long term?" I asked.

"Not sure just yet. But discreet in any case." she answered.

I wanted to giggle, but with her hand wrapped around my cock, I couldn't. "Discrete? You're kidding me. We're in an office building where anyone could walk in on us, from a coworker to the security guards."

"I know. That's part of the fun of it. Besides I'm not looking for a quick fuck with some stranger from the office. I'm looking for a great fuck with you in the office." She said as she began to slowly stroke up cock up and down. It was an awkward way to masturbate me, be it felt wonderful.

I leaned down ever so slightly to kiss her and she shy'd away. "Why the hesitation now? You've got my cock in your hands, but I can't kiss you?"

She reached down, and took my sack into her hands and gently squeezed. "My fantasy, my rules, lover." And with that she withdrew her hands to take mine. She led me back to my high walled cube against the windows. "Now the best view is to the outside world. Though I guess if the guards do come up stairs they could see us if the they wanted to."

"Now then were was I? Oh yeah..." She leaned my back against my desk as she eased down onto her knees, as she reached out for my pants again. She tugged them down onto my thighs. She smiled and said "boxer briefs...knew it." With that she pulled them down as well. Then she reached out took my cock again with one hand. With the other she tugged at the back hem of her skirt, lifting over her hips. From where I was I could only see the tops of cheeks and the thin line of the copper colored T-back she was wearing. Yet in the reflection off the glass of the dim office lights against the now evening sky, her ass was glorious.

She smiled as asked if I liked the view as she leaning forward and took my member into her mouth. Whatever hesitation I might have had left, was gone in the instant I felt her warm tongue licking the underside of my cock. She was treating my cock like a lolly pop, as she bobbed her head up and down. She gentle stroked my balls with her right hand as her left hand began to play with the strap of her T-back in the mirrored glass.

As she massaged my balls, I felt a pressure building inside. She felt it to, using her left hand to clamp around the base of my cock to prolong the build up. She then eased her legs wide apart and arched her back just a little to give me a better view in the reflection. She had shifted her left hand around to her front, pulling her thong out of the way. I could see her using the fingers to spread her lips, as she dipped her middle finger deep into her slit. From the sounds I could hear, and could concentrate on, she was as wet as I was hard.

Fast and deeper she drove first her middle finger then her ring finger into her cunt. I was trying to concentrate on the view in the mirrored glass on not on the orgasm I was trying to suppress. Then she released my cock from her mouth, and stood up. She wrapped the soaked fingers of her right hand around it and stroked it a few times. Then she leaned up and over me just a little and put the head of my cock against her groin. She bent it down as she raised her ass over me. I could feel the wetness of her cunt beginning to soak its way around my shaft as she slowly slid back and forth for a moment.

Then I felt her almost completely shaven cunt press against the root of my cock. Her skin was slick and warm. I wanted her so badly, I started to reach under her ass to lift her up. She smiled and said "remember...my fantasy, my rules." The mixture of pain from having my cock being bent downwards, while being massaged by her well lubricated and open cunt was more than I could handled.

"Much more of this and I'll cum in the carpet..." I said. She smiled and said, not that just won't do. She wrapped her right hand around my straining cock as she slid off of me. Then I felt her lift up on her toes, and ease herself down on top of me, using her hand to guide me into her wet and warm tunnel.

I was insane with pleasure. Her cunt enfolded me like a sheath made for a knife. I felt her muscles pulling at me, drawing me deeper in. Her tunnel felt like warm living silk. She continued to lift herself up and down on my cock my the strength of her toes for a couple more times, until she saw my eyes begin to glass over.

Then she lifted herself off of me, dropped to her knees, and took my cock back into her mouth. I shot rope after rope of cum deep into her mouth. She wiped her lips with my cock leaving a white trail across her lips and dribbling down onto her chin. Then she took my deflating member back into her mouth and began to suck in earnest. It felt like she was trying to drain every drop out of me.

I twitched for a few seconds as the aftershocks flew past. As I came to my senses, she was standing next to me gently stroking my cock with her hand and smiling. Her skirt was back in place, and save for a few wrinkles in her blouse you'd never have know she just milked me like a cow.