Sex and the Office Ch. 04

JILL'S CHRISTMAS GIFT

Frank was her boss for a few months. Jill was a good professional secretary and her looks were a distinct advantage to Frank, whose clients were only too pleased to look her up and down as she served them coffee in his office, admiring her slender figure and shapely legs. Her smile even suggested a promised intimacy they could only dream about. They told Frank what a lucky guy he was!

And certainly, Jill was a very attractive lady of thirty years. With straight, glossy shoulder-length dark copper-colored hair, she looked at least ten years younger, with clear unblemished skin. With white even teeth and full lips, she looked for all the world like a film starlet – a young Audrey Hepburn perhaps. She was of average height, but with a narrow waist, not too full in the hips, having a superbly shaped bottom! It showed at its cheeky best when she walked from the hip, with upright bearing, head held high.

Her breasts complemented her bottom in size and shape, self-supporting perfection, with coral-colored areola, tipped with rose-colored cone shaped nipples, which would swell to considerable proportions when aroused – which they often were. A ring of goose pimples surrounded the nipple. Not that Frank had seen them. Only wished he had!

When she looked at her naked body in the mirror, Jill would run her hands over her shoulders, breasts, belly, resting on her furry friend. She was proud of her body, touching her clitoris lightly with her middle finger, feeling it throb slightly, sending a mild shudder through her loins. Between her thighs, her plump vulva with the inner labia pushing out, her long legs, perfectly shaped with narrow ankles, completed the picture. No wrinkles on her body anywhere. Firm, smooth skin. No sign of her having had two children. Yes! She was very proud of her body – with every reason. It was perfect. Well, she thought so.

Wherever Jill went, men turned their heads. She was the envy of all her friends, and the center of attention of their husbands. All wanted to take care of her, to father her. Which really meant that they wanted to make love to her. Jill was aware of this, of course. It made her feel good to be admired for her looks.

In spite of her beauty, to look at Jill, you wouldn't think butter would melt in her mouth. She was the ultimate in child-like innocence. Her soft smile, her blue shining trusting eyes, all added to her appearance of vulnerability. Which is, of course, what the men found most attractive about her. If she caught them looking at her with lust in their eyes, one of her tricks was to cock her head slightly to one side, smile sweetly at them with a look of sympathy, as if to say 'Sorry! I know you're dying to fuck me – but I'm not available.'

Her innocent face belied her sexual appetite, however, and her experience of men. Men of her choice of course. If only her admirers knew how much she adored the penis – the feel of it in the palm of her hand, the penetration her most secret treasure – they would have been less reticent at chatting her up. She too would give a furtive glance at them and fantasize about what lurked behind the flies of their trousers. She had a vivid imagination.

Of all the perfect parts of her body, Jill believed that none were more so than her vulva. She knew every wrinkle of it. She studied it in a mirror quite often, whilst grooming it. She admired the soft pubic hair, it's coppery, silky curls, covering the pronounced mons, which hardened noticeably when aroused, before encasing the entire vulva in its silken web. Some wisps of hair were allowed to stray into the inner thigh on both sides. Other stray wisps were plucked to keep the shape neat and tidy.

The outer labia were plump and full, whilst the inner lips, rather darker in color, draped from the tip of the vulva, as though hanging from the sensitive clitoris, before their folds reached their fleshy thickness on either side of the entrance to her rose-pink vagina, then joining together again at the base of the vulva. The overall effect was of an appealing entrance to her sensitive passage of delight, held in place by a golden web of beauty. The flesh of the inner labia was of a lightly marbled texture, which swelled up when aroused, to become smoother. The puckered vagina itself was set a little higher than usual for an English lady, making it that bit more accessible to a visiting penis, of which there had been quite a few afforded that privilege.

Being the keeper of such a perfect piece of feminine mystery, it's not surprising that Jill treasured it. It was the very center, the core of her physical being, besides the focal point of her emotional being. She was always aware of its existence. It was ever present in her mind. As she grew older, it ruled her life more and more. It was her furry friend. Her constant companion.

As usual in any office environment, of course, sexual innuendo was rife, with the men lusting after the secretaries – and vice versa in some cases. It was soon made clear to Jill that her boss was hungry for her. He couldn't take his eyes off her when they were in the same room. And when the rest of the staff realized this, they backed away from her, leaving the field clear for Frank. He was a handsome, distinguished-looking man in his early forties. Tall, clean-shaven, well dressed. Jill was perplexed. She wondered why her boss fancied her, when his wife was an elegant lady with looks and style - most men's idea of a perfect sex partner.

For some reason, Jill was used by her friends as a shoulder to cry on. Sympathetic and quietly encouraging. It was quite amazing the personal secrets people would confide in her. And not just her lady friends. Their husbands also told her rather embarrassing secrets. Of course, she was completely discreet!

It was during one of those intimate conversations sitting across from him at his desk, in which Frank was feeling rather maudlin after a few lunch time whiskeys, that he unburdened his troubles with her. It came as a surprise to Jill to hear that he was not getting his conjugal rights at home. Sleeping in twin beds kept the married couple apart and, he confessed in an unguarded moment - or perhaps in a more calculated moment - that his wife had repelled his sexual advances time and again, until he felt that there was no purpose in trying any more.

His wife Jacqueline had never shown much interest in sex, even before marriage. And, to be fair, Frank was only too eager to be allowed to fuck her gorgeous slender body. He didn't make love to it - he fucked it. Jacqueline (never Jackie!) would lie there between her sheets, with her legs apart, knees bent, looking at the dark ceiling, thinking of her next shopping expedition, whilst Frank humped and grunted over her until had discharged into his condom. She never reciprocated. She had married him for his money and his prospects, as they say. Not for his cock. After he climbed off her to dispose of the condom and climb into his own bed, she would turn on her side and go to sleep.

'She finds sex repulsive and nauseating,' he confided to Jill. 'She pampers her own body, soaking in the bath for ages. I'm sure she masturbates for her own pleasure – as I have to for mine.' He smiled ruefully.

He wasn't aware that his wife had found another lover. An equally elegant, sophisticated lady. They were wildly in love with each other, finding every opportunity to lie naked together and make love to each other's beautiful body. After that, Frank never got a look in.

Jill, it must be said, was rather taken aback at Frank's openness. Most men would consider it a failing on their part to be denied sex with their wife. But not Frank. So Jill decided to offer him some rather obvious advice. 'You should find yourself a mistress,' she told him with a smile. 'Someone to love you and take of your needs.'

He looked at her. 'How are you fixed?' he responded hopefully.

'I'm already spoken for, Frank. But there must be other women you know. Besides, it's never such a good idea to mix business with pleasure. Though it often happens, I know. Even here!'

'You have an extraordinary effect on me, Jill. The old testosterone glands work overtime as soon as I look at you.'

Unknown to Frank, Jill's glands were also working overtime, lubricating her vagina in response to the sexy conversation. She fancied him, but wouldn't give in to her body's greed. It would be too easy to become involved in a serious affair, which was the last thing she wanted, with a husband and two young children at home. But it was flattering in a way to be the object of men's lust.

'Well, maybe it gives you some fantasies when you play with yourself,' she laughed. 'Shall I tell you about an episode in my life that happened some years ago, when my son was a baby?'

'Sounds like you have a confession yourself.'

'Well, it is in a way. But it may give you something to fantasize about when you feel the need.'

'Go on then. I'm all ears.'

'Well, close to where we were living at the time was a small park, where I often took the baby in the pram during fine weather for a morning stroll. It would usually get him off to sleep after his feed. I would take a book, sit on a bench in a secluded part of the park, and read for half-an-hour whilst the baby slept.

'On a particular, warm sunny morning, I was sitting reading a book of erotic tales by Anais Nin. Deep into the story of illicit love and intrigue in the parks of Paris, I was brought back to reality by a voice interrupting my erotic thoughts. "Er... excuse me... I wonder...?"

'When I pushed up the dark glasses I saw a young man standing in front of me. He was tall, slim, clean-shaven, with open-neck shirt and buff-colored slacks. I remembered having seen him around several times. I smiled at him. He was quite attractive. He asked if I would mind him sitting with me? I asked him why. There were plenty of empty benches around, I told him. But he said he'd like a chat, that's all. He was feeling rather lonely. I thought this rather curious, but patted the bench beside me. He sat on my right. We looked in each other's face. He looked earnest, with kind blue eyes and unruly blonde wavy hair. I asked him what he wanted to chat about?

'He said nothing in particular, but admitted he'd been watching me for several days. Said he thought I was very attractive. I burst out laughing at his lack of subtlety and asked if he was trying to get off with me?

'The young man blushed and stuttered. "Er... well, you look so peaceful, alone with your child, and me... well, I'm very shy and have no friends..."

'I found that hard to believe, I said. He told me that tomorrow he was due to go to London with a new job. So unless he plucked up courage to talk to me today, he would never get another chance. Well, I thought it all sounded innocent and honest enough. But still wondered at his real motive. I decided to ask him outright. Why he wanted to talk to me? I told him that I was just an ordinary housewife – may be even old enough to be his mother. And added that a good-looking young man like him should have a girlfriend anyway, to keep him company.

'He laughed. "Me? No. I don't have a girlfriend. I've never had one. Never even kissed a girl." It was my turn to laugh. My goodness. I asked him how old he was. "Nineteen."

'I laughed again and told him that he really must be shy to have reached the age of nineteen and never even kissed a girl. "They just laugh at me. Because I'm so shy and blush so easily" he said, his cheeks turning scarlet ro prove his point.

'Well, I laid my hand on his in a gesture of sympathy. I told him that girls at that age can be very cruel. But, never mind, I added, one day, he'll find a nice girl to care for. And even kiss him. Then, on the spur of the moment I leaned across and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Like that! I told him.

'He rubbed his cheek with his finger-tips. He asked if I thought she'd let me touch her? I asked why? And how did he mean, touch? He admitted that he'd never touched a woman in his life, or been touched by one either. Not where it matters. Except for his mother I reminded him with a laugh, when he was very young.

'But should we be talking together like this? I asked him. Strangers? Talking about intimate physical contact? Well, he said, perhaps it's because we were strangers, it gave him the courage to be open and honest with me. You won't believe this, but for some reason I never understood, after a quick look round to make sure there was no-one around, I took the young man's hand in mine and put it down the top of my dress onto the left swollen breast, holding it there. I was feeling adventurous and wicked. Must have been the Nin book I had been reading.

'I know. Unbelievable. But there you are. A spur of the moment thing.

'Lust was never far away from my thoughts at the best of times, and breast-feeding always increased my sexual need. Having just fed the baby before taking the walk, and being absorbed in an erotic tale by Anais Nin, I was feeling warm and runny inside already. And the poor young man had never fondled a woman's flesh. At nineteen! I felt sorry for him and daring! I'd soon put that to rights.

'I smiled encouragingly at him. "Is that where it matters?" With eyes opening wide, the young man was speechless. He was too stupefied to blush, gazing at his hand inside a woman's dress – fondling her full breast. Although that's what he wished for, it was certainly more than he could have hoped for. "Go on, feel it properly!" I said.

'He slid the palm of his hand into the bra, over the thick, swollen nipple, engorged with milk. He was in heaven. His obvious unexpected delight was so sweet. I looked down at his slacks. And sure enough, there was the telltale bulge against the right thigh. His penis was obviously aroused. I placed my palm over it lightly, adding more astonishment to the young man's face.

'So - rubbing my palm lightly over the bulge I asked if that was where it matters? It certainly seemed to thinks so.

Jill laughed at the memory. Frank was obviously feeling very horny, his eyes full of lust. She noticed him stroking the erection straining against his trousers. She went on with her story.

'The look of astonishment never left his face. With my other hand, I unbuttoned the top of my dress and unhooked the front catch of my bra, allowing the full breasts to swing free. The large nipples jutted out in all their glory. Feeling more confident now, as I was doing this, I unzipped the front of his slacks, reaching inside to locate the stiff cock. After squeezing it gently, I eased it out of its confines. "There!" I said. "I shall be the very first woman to touch your cock. Let's take a look."

'The young man feasted his eyes on my swollen breasts, and I studied the long stiff cock I was holding in my hand. Pre cum had gathered in the puckered end of the foreskin. I pulled the membrane back to allow it to trickle down the underside of the shaft. Holding it between thumb and index finger, I studied the penis, gently sliding the skin up and down.

'It was, I guessed, regulation length of around six inches, though rather slender, with very pale skin laced with feint blue and vermilion veins. An elegant cock in fact. The head was pointed – not particularly large – and pink rather than vermilion. Speculating on the purpose of this stiff thrilling piece of man gave me those familiar, pleasant flutters inside. Being unused to this kind of attention, though, it soon became clear that the young man's loins were beginning to boil over already, starting to twitch uncontrollably.

'With eyes screwed tight shut, head thrown back and loins tense, the young man grunted and lurched. I bent my head over his lap to take the cock in my mouth in time to catch the first jet of sperm that spat out. My lips gripped the shaft, bobbing my head up and down on it in rhythm with my hand, taking several more spurts until the spasms finished.

'Satisfied that the eruptions had finished, I swiped my lips over the shaft as I withdrew it, sperm trickling from the corner of my mouth. Yes!I swallowed the young man's emission. "Quick! Put it back before anyone sees us," I said, hooking my bra back in position, and buttoning up the dress as I stood up.

Jill chuckled, looking at Frank's lust filled eyes.

'The young man opened his eyes, looking dazed, hurrying to push the softening cock back inside the slacks. "There! Is that the kind of experience you've been missing?" I asked. Then, taking his hand, I steered it up the hem of my dress, into my knickers, pressing it against the soft sopping wet genitals. I have to admit, though, that this was for my own pleasure rather than his. At that moment, I needed to feel a man's hand pressing against my vulva. My God! I was desperate for cock! "Feel! Quickly!"

'His clumsy hand fumbled against the slippery gash, with its rough hair, whilst I rubbed it up and down my crack, guiding his finger inside my pussy, before pulling away from him, smoothing down the dress.

'I muttered something like "Good luck with the new job," breathing rather heavily, pushing the pram away from the bench. I didn't look round, but went straight home, where I put the baby to my beast, masturbating vigorously as the baby suckled on it. It wasn't long before my stomach twisted and knotted into a tight peak before finally exploding. I had a fantastic orgasm.

'I hadn't even asked his name.'

Frank was masturbating under his desk as Jill, fully aware of what he was doing, was very tempted to do it for him. But instead, she forced herself to leave his office. Feeling rather randy herself, she went straight to the ladies for self relief.

They never referred to the story after that. Jill managed to keep Frank at bay, though she would often furtively search with her eyes for the tell-tale bulge in his trousers. She would tease him with bending over to display her cleavage as she put his coffee cup in front of him, pausing to give him the chance to feast on the swelling of her breasts. It was shameful to watch such a normally self-confident executive so desperate for release. And to be honest, Jill would love to take out his penis and examine it - play with it. She was obsessed with cock, finding them endlessly fascinating and wonderful playthings. Ah well...

At Christmas time, as in offices all over the Western world, it was usual to end the year with an office party. The large reception area was turned into a nightclub atmosphere with lots of buffet food, wine and beer. Starting in the late afternoon, by early evening everyone was in party mood. Everyone, that is, except Frank, who was quiet and depressed. He had told Jill that the thought of spending several days without seeing her, filled him with remorse.

Nothing Jill said could cheer him up. They were sitting quietly together in a small settee, whilst the rest of the staff were chatting in corners, or smooching to the dance music being played softly on a tape recorder. Lights were turned low to hide the indiscretions of the couples, with hands wandering where they weren't really entitled to. Jill had seen one couple sidle away into an office, presumably for a more intimate embrace. She decided to try to add a little Christmas cheer to Frank's sadness.

'I'm off to the ladies,' Jill whispered in his ear. 'When I get back I'll go straight to your office.' she smiled sweetly. 'Don't you have some things to sign?' she added meaningfully. She stood, and disappeared into the lobby.

After two or three minutes had elapsed, Frank stood up casually, filled his wine glass and sauntered from the reception area, through Jill's outer office, into his own. Only the desk lamp was lit, throwing a pool of light over the blotting pad. He went across to the desk, leaning his bottom against the edge, wondering what it was that Jill had planned. He certainly had nothing to sign. Perhaps she had a present for her. He had already given Jill a bottle of Chanel No 5 perfume.