Out the Window Ch. 06byMister_Shy©
Dale realized he'd read the same paper top to bottom about three times now, and he wasn't going to try for a fourth.
It was dark outside in the city and he was alone in the office except for the janitors. He sighed.
Katie had been prancing through the house with her new boyfriend Chris, back after finishing college and already preparing for graduate school. She was a smart girl and had already been accepted to the University of Chicago's business program, so now she was home for the summer. And it had been a month of torture.
To her credit, Katie hadn't spoken of their sinful indulgences. He was her father again, not her illegal lover, and she playfully teased him just like she had before the last few years' madness. She said hello to her mother, stole his coffee in the morning, and was gone most of the day. She and Chris were having a grand time, and Dale hated himself for envying the long nights the two were spending together.
But Katie was twenty-three now, a woman who could make her own decisions, who already had a bright future. Maybe it was just him who couldn't put the past to rest.
Except Katie did, every now and then, give him a shifty, knowing look, and when her mother wasn't around she wore less, showing off her legs in tight shorts, drifting through the house at night in a big undershirt without a bra or anything else. But she didn't say anything to him, just let him look.
But the worst day was by far when she and her friend Alicia had come home after spending a hot day at the pool. The two of them were dripping in his kitchen in their bikinis drinking vitamin water on a Sunday afternoon. And he had to sit at the kitchen table and go over his reports while Alicia practically fell out of her swimsuit (the two had probably been drinking too) and Katie did not. Katie just swept through the house, statuesque, her full, firm breasts molding the contours of her wet crimson bra over her soft skin and her trim abdominals and strong thighs barely covered by the triangle that threatened to wedge itself inside her pussy-
Dale slammed his fist down on the desk. He couldn't think this way!
That had been three weeks ago. Two weeks ago Margaret had finally taken her vacation with her fiance. He'd promised her she could, and until the moment that Nathan had come to pick her up he'd kept her hands off her. But he needed...
* * *
Nathan actually came up to the office to pick her up from work. Margaret was carefully finishing up her work for him, wanting to make sure that nothing was out of place. He shook Nathan's hand and told him he was a lucky man. Nathan thanked him (tall, great brown hair, winning smile - the kid was a winner, no doubt) and told Margaret he'd go down to get the car.
Dale asked to see Margaret in his office. She continued tapping until Nathan disappeared into the elevator.
She came into his office with some papers for him to sign. He watched the way her tight clothing hugged her body, the way her skirt, leg and heel seemed to be one elegant unit, meant for striding, meant for straddling. Dale locked the door and took the papers. She was standing between the door and the desk. He went to her, laid the papers on the desk, and bumped against her. She looked up at him silently (she could feel him down there), and he continued to push against her until he'd forced her to back up against the door. He grabbed her hips.
"Sir..." she said hesitantly.
He ran his fingers down the slick material of her skirt and stopped at the hem. He pressed into her harder until his groin was a thick bulge against the place where her legs met.
"This is completely inappropriate," she whispered, but she smiled as she said it.
He slipped his fingers under the hem of her skirt and flipped it up over her thighs and pulled it roughly over her ass. He ran his palms over the lush, strong muscles of her buttocks and pressed her harder against the door. His eyes locked into her bright green gaze and he dipped a finger over her naked genitalia.
"You're not wearing panties," he said.
"Sue me," she whispered.
"What else doesn't he know?" he asked. He took her hands and guided them over his zipper. He fit the metal tab into her little fingers. "Unzip me," he said.
"What are you going to make me do?"
"I'm going to force you," he whispered in her ear. He gripped her brown hand in both of his and softly eased her fingers down until the zipper reached its bottom. "I'm going to force you up against this door..."
Margaret reached into his pants (no boxers) and pulled out his cock. It was quickly stiffening under her eager caress. "I'll scream," she said. "I'll scream for Nathan to come save me."
"I'll be inside of you by then," he whispered. While she played with him he traced a loving circle around her ear with his tongue. Her knees trembled against his. "You're so beautiful."
She brought the wet head of his dick up against her shaven mound and rolled it gently back and forth, tightly held in her firm hand. "I bet you say that to all the young girls you fuck."
He grabbed her chin and tilted her head up to him. She weakly fought against him as he planted kiss after kiss on her mouth. He kissed her again and again until she gave way beneath him and accepted his tongue between her lips. At the same time she let his penis go and brushed the back of her hand against his chest as he reached under her ass and angled his dick against her pussy. "Better not..." she whispered into his mouth. "I'll be gone for two weeks..."
"He's going to have you all to himself," Dale muttered. He slipped his pulsing dick between her already sopping thighs, into her lips, and drove himself up, hard, into her vagina.
Margaret knocked her head back against the door in a silent scream and squeezed his arms with her fingers. She hooked her thigh around his pants and shook like an epileptic as he slipped his dick higher and higher into her tight opening. Her shoe fell off her toes and knocked against his feet.
"You got it so bad you need to fuck me on my last day in the office?" she muttered as he pounded her against the door.
"What's your job?" he said.
"To do whatever you tell me," she teased into his face. He roughly fondled her tit.
"I'll take you on a real nice vacation," he huffed. He planted his hands on her ass and pressed her head against the door with his own.
"Too late, boss, I'm getting married." She bucked her hips against Dale's pelvis and bit his chin. She felt how hard he was. She felt his thick length cruising up to the very top of her canal and prodding playfully at the entrance, at her thick labial lips.
"You never wear the ring in the office," he grunted.
"Annh, fuck me!" She said it as softly as she could.
"Are you going to cook for him?"
She was annoyed. "If he asks me."
"You gonna have kids?"
"Aaah. Stop!" she huffed. His penis throbbed in her pussy.
"What doesn't he know about you?" Dale wanted to rip her clothes off right now but he knew he couldn't. He consoled himself by passing a possessive hand over her forehead and angling her face up to his. He had wormed his other hand underneath her leg and into her ass crack and was now indecently stroking her asshole.
"He doesn't know how kinky I am," she said and flashed her emerald eyes at him.
"He fucks you good?"
She glared. "He's got great stamina."
"He doesn't talk does he?"
She grinned. "He tells me to be quiet."
Dale had ensured that the door to his office was a tight one, one that wouldn't creak and sway when a swift breeze came through the window. It was a good thing, too. They had begun to war against each other's bodies; he pushed up into her and she slammed right back down on him. He got the impression that she was trying to make him cum, as if she was trying to force him to let her go. But her eyes and her squirming body told two very different stories.
He wound his fingers up behind her head and pulled her hair tight in his fist. She let out a scared moan and shut her eyes.
"I could tell you to be quiet."
She smiled and drew her fingers away from his chest and slipped them down the generous swell of her breasts. His dick pounded her pussy. "This is sexual harassment," she whispered.
He pulled her hair tighter back and forced her body flat against the door. He pulled out slowly and drove it hard up into her slit.
"He d-doesn't know..." she whimpered, "that I fuck my boss..."
Dale let her go. He gripped her thighs in both his hands and drove her against the door. There was a heavy BUMP that they both prayed didn't alarm anyone on the other side.
"He doesn't know..." she whispered, "that I let him fuck me..." He kissed her mouth. She kept talking. "Because it makes me feel dirty..." He kissed down her dark neck. Her fingers sifted up into his hair. "He thinks I'm in love with my boss."
Their eyes locked and she angled her hips against him, a mere weight in his hands, her whole body raised against the wood paneling and his strong arms gripped to her flexible frame (though still held in place by her tight office clothes).
"He doesn't know that I know what my boss's balls feel like when they smack against my ass. Ah!" At that moment Dale's finger was already halfway up her asshole. "he doesn't know that I've tried anal," she said, her eyes vacant and burning into Dale's unblinking gaze. "I didn't like it." He stuck his finger further up her rectum. She gave a breathy laugh.
"Are you in love with your boss?" he said.
"Nathan will be back soon."
"Don't leave me," he said.
"You can't fuck me for-mmh-ever," she replied. Her eyes flashed again as he angled to the side and plunged against the right (her left) side. He remembered. He was desperately trying to fuck her against her G spot. She dropped her right leg down and kept her left leg hooked over his hip in order to grind against his dick. "That's it," she mumbled.
"Pretend I'm him."
"Nathan..." she whispered. She smirked and touched his face. "Call me Katie."
"I love you, Katie."
"I love you, Nathan."
They both gasped as the first squirt of her vaginal fluid soaked the tip of his cock.
"I'll miss your tight pussy, Katie."
"Right there, honey," she groaned, reaching up to pull his shoulders in towards her body. He grunted and thrust harder and harder into her at her slippery angle. She let out a grunt of her own. "I wish you fucked me like this all the time, baby..."
"Stay..." he muttered.
"Stay," he groaned, his balls smacking against her thighs now, his fingers pulling her skirt higher up her belly, his legs shaking as he drove himself higher and deeper inside of her. He thought of Katie in her bikini. He thought of Margaret's eyes when she came. "You gonna cum?" he said.
"Cum for me, Katie."
He blew his load inside her and froze mid-plunge. Margaret sighed and moaned and twisted against him but they both knew she had stopped just before the threshold. There were too many people between them. His dick twitched and convulsed inside her and it felt good; they both shivered with the sensations of their tingling nerve ends.
When he pulled out and messily stuffed himself back between his zipper, it felt cheapened.
She pulled her skirt down over her thighs.
He wiped some hair from her forehead and swallowed. "That stuff about being in-"
She laughed him off of it before he had a chance to finish. "He's probably already pulled up front. Give me a kiss for luck."
Dale grabbed her and pressed her hard against the door. Margaret melted against him and opened her mouth. Her jangled nerves wanted to pull him back inside her to finish what he'd started but her wounded heart and frayed emotions wanted the same. So it was only her common sense that pulled her back from the brink of a terrible mistake: telling him how she felt. She left him with a swift peck and an admonishment (while she grabbed a tissue from his desk and wiped underneath her skirt): "When I get back, this... you know this isn't permanent?"
"I know," he said. "I know, I'm sorry."
"No," she said quickly. "Please don't be sorry. It's my fault as much as yours, I... like it. I, uh-" She bit her lip. She swiped at a few stray strands over her ears and made herself as presentable as she could. "It's not a habit we should get into."
"No," said Dale.
"I mean, you're just looking for a pussy to fuck."
Dale's mouth fell open. Margaret stared at him, aghast at herself.
"That's-" he started.
"That's not what I meant."
"That is what you meant," he said. "That is what I- Margaret."
"Sorry," she said. She unlocked the door quickly and pulled it open.
"Don't-" he said. She was hurriedly packing her things into her purse and laptop bag. "Margaret-" Then she was powering off her computer and clacking away. On one shoe.
Dale dashed back into his office and nabbed her shoe from the floor. He sprinted down the office towards the elevators where Margaret was just stepping through the doors. There were another two co-workers behind her and he ignored her incredulous stares as he dashed between the shutting doors.
Thankfully the two were chatting about the latest office meme because it laid the perfect cover for him to squat down and tie his shoe, dropping Margaret's soft heel beside her foot and gently fitting it over her toes and against her heel. He coughed and raised himself back up, the conversation behind them continuing unabated and her now staring up at him with a stiff, cagey smirk on her face.
"Like Prince Charming," she whispered.
He glanced down at her. "Anytime, Cinderella."
The doors opened and the men politely went out on either side of him. Margaret went with them; he could even see Nathan waiting patiently outside the lobby doors in her mini Coop. She didn't turn, she didn't say anything else, but Dale had the distinct impression that their tryst, hot, however brief, was concluded. She'd said too much, apparently, without really saying anything at all. And he'd cum in her. And she'd let him. And he wanted her.
But maybe she was right. Maybe he just wanted whoever was willing, younger, kinkier.
Or maybe she was wrong, but she did deserve to be loved by someone who treated her as more than a surrogate and was waiting to pick her up. Could have been him? Never.
He had a wife, three kids, a mortgage, a job, a secretary, and a steadily raging libido that threatened to turn all of his relationships into sex drenched disasters. The elevator pinged and he stepped out and back onto his floor. He glided innocently back to his office and shut the door. And finished another working day.
* * *
That was two weeks ago. It felt like a lifetime ago. When she came back next week he expected Margaret to be professional, and courteous, and kind. But they were finished. Because Margaret had self control, and she wouldn't be another woman's substitute. She was worth loving, and Dale honestly hoped Nathan held up his end in that union (though he had his suspicions about who wore the pants in that relationship).
It had been a long day, longer than it had to be. But with the latest acquisition and Ryan putting in the extra hours, Dale had to make a good impression with the board. The truth was, he didn't need to do the overtime, he did his job and he did it better than any three of his colleagues. But that wasn't the way it worked.
He debated sleeping in the city, or even at the office, but he decided that nine o'clock wasn't really that bad. So he made the long trek down the building and into the parking garage, said good night to the security guard and drove home.
Katie, at least, would not be a problem. She would no doubt be out with her friends, or Chris, and he could get to bed unharassed. They had come to a kind of understanding, he thought, maybe one where they could all go back to their normal lives.
Dale sighed and pushed his forehead into his hand, resting his elbow against the window. Yeah, right.
He ate a decent meal at a little Italian place just ten minutes from the home. He didn't want to make anything when he got in and it was highly likely that anything Mary had made was already gobbled up by his sons. They were growing boys; he didn't begrudge them that. He hoped they were out and about tonight too, fresh from college and sowing wild oats. For God's sake, he thought, please be sowing now. Get it out of your system.
He thought about Margaret banging her fiancee on vacation and grew hard enough that he had to wait a minute before stepping out of his car onto the driveway. What he needed was a good fuck. He hoped Mary would be in the mood, and he hoped he could convince her if she wasn't.
It was ten o'clock when he walked through his front door and by the sky and the smell in the air he had no doubt that it would be raining by morning. The house around him was empty and dark. He loosened his tie and entered his study, sliding his briefcase under his desk and putting his phone into its charger. Then he began to mount the stairs.
He was glad now - as he usually was at these hours - that his wife and he had sprung for that California King bed. It was a big bed and it allowed them to both stretch out. They seldom spooned anymore and the wide expanse of the bed afforded them their distinctive territories. As he climbed to the top of the steps he could hear sobbing. Not loudly. But someone crying. And it didn't sound like his wife but it was coming from their bedroom.
Dale pushed open his bedroom door and saw two women curled up on his bed. The first was his wife. She was wrapped in her robe, her dirty blonde hair up in a relaxed pony tail, her big eyes sympathetic and acknowledging him there, her big breasts tastefully closed off from view by the well knotted robe. Her perky nose and her high cheekbones were the two ageless, endearing things about her face, and they were shared by the woman crying in her arms. The other woman was younger, lithe, with her long legs leading down from her nightie and her small feet tucked up under her ass, which poked out from under the silk. He could see the white slip of her panties curled over the supple, smooth skin, skin that almost glowed with its vitality, skin that revealed the toned and shapely contours of her thighs, calf muscles, abdomen. The long neck of the girl led to a mess of bright golden curls that were buried now in her mother's neck. It was Katie, and she was crying.
Dale strode to the edge of the bed. "What's going on?" he said.
Mary patted Katie's back and shook her head. "She and Chris just broke up."
"Oh," said Dale. "I'm sorry." He didn't know what else to say.
Suddenly Katie broke away from her mother and practically threw herself at him. Dale ended up with her in his arms, up on her knees on the bed, with her breasts pushing into his stomach. There was very little between her sheer nightgown and his shirt and he could feel her little nipples poking into him. "Uh-" he started, not putting his hands around her.
"Dale!" his wife chided.
He wrapped his arms around Katie's back and tried not to squeeze her too tight. "I'm sorry, honey, I really am." She cried into his arm for another minute or two and he and his wife exchanged spousal glances.
After a time Katie excused herself to clean up and Dale went into the bathroom to change. He talked to Mary about the day as he threw his clothes into the hamper and pulled on his pajama bottoms. Not knowing if they'd see Katie again that night, he threw an undershirt on as well. After about ten minutes, and no sign of the girl, Dale slipped back into bed and kissed his wife on the cheek.
His wife smiled at him and patted his shoulder.
"Are you in the mood?" he said.
"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I'm just worried about Katie. She really liked Chris."