Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: N/A
|Introduction: Part 1 from a woman's view|
Hi erotica lovers. My name is Susan. Well not really, but I REALLY am married to John (not his real name either). We really do exist as a real life couple but most everything you are reading is fantasy born from our overactive imagination and sexual urges. So you will know John actually owns the company that is fictionalized in the story and I work for him. We met there, fell in love, and the rest as they say is history. I won’t tell you what major city the office is in or what kind of company it is, but the office set up that’s portrayed is basically our real office arrangement. It was John’s idea to lunge into this frenzy of keyboard sexual fantasy based on elements of our real life. When I pointed out to John that someone might actually surf the net, find our stories and put two and two together he dismissed the danger by saying that we would just deny that we had anything to do with it and demand publicly that whoever was spewing out such filth stop at once. With enough righteous indignation he said we wouldn’t have any trouble skirting the issue. John’s the boss so who am I to argue with him, even if he is a dumb fuck sometimes. Actually he’s a good fuck most of the time and sometimes a great fuck.
With that said, John created the character Susan based on his image of me. Most of John’s character portrayals are reasonably close to the real life person with just enough jumbled to throw people off the trail. I am actually somewhere near 36 and blond, but of course I am not divorced as he indicates. John really is in the 55 year old range, give or take. I’ll let you guess. The two “daughters” are not based on my real life daughters (I don’t have any kids) but they are based on real life twins that John and I met at a bar one night while at a convention. We spent the evening with them discussing all the stereotypical “twin” scenes that men dream about. They claimed to be strippers although I placed them closer to another profession. In real life they were probably about 24 or 25 but John decided to make them 18 for his own sick reasons.
So boys and girls, here we go with my “female” version of Work Related Fringe Benefits, Part 1 (FV).
My name is Susan and I work for a really sexy man in his fifties named John. I’m 36 years old, divorced, and I have two twin daughters, Tiffany and Amber, who are 18 years old. In my opinion I’m a fairly attractive woman and I base that on the attention I get when I go out at night and the looks I get from men around our office complex. I’ve got decent tits, thanks to a little enhancement a few years ago. Funny, that word “tits”. Most women I know refer to them as “boobs” or “boobies”, something more feminine than “tits”. Tits are what grow on animals. Maybe that’s the connection for a man and why they like to refer to women’s breasts as “tits”. Ok then, I’ve got nice tits. And I think I have really nice legs if you don’t mind me bragging but it takes a lot of work in the gym to keep that muscle tone just right to catch a man’s eye and then twist his head around for an encore when you walk by. Most men tell me that I have a perfectly shaped derriere. I think that’s usually code for “May I stick something in there?” but it’s still flattering to hear a man say it. My twin daughters look better than I do and they’re lucky to have nice natural boobs, I mean “tits” that draw a lot of attention. Everything about the “twins”, as most of my friends refer to them, is so 18 year old ‘ish. It’s sickening really. I used to have those “throw on some shorts, pull on an old t-shirt top, whisk your hair back and watch your boyfriend get a hard on” looks. Let’s just say they’re a handful. The girls, I mean, not there… oh, forget it. Growing up essentially without a father figure in the picture they became sexually active early on, but then it seems most kids today do so earlier than my generation did.
My best friend Debbie works with me at the same company. Debbie is 43, has beautiful dark hair and dark eyes. She’s just a doll. Debbie could be a movie star with her looks. She’s got a great figure as well, a great personality, and she’s horny all the time. (Don’t ask me how I know this.) Debbie’s husband is usually away on business during the week so she and I go out a lot for happy hour after work to blow off a little steam. I really look up to her and admire her a lot, as do all the girls in the office. And there are a lot of us to girls around, eleven in fact. I think John only hires women because he’s actually a bit shy around them and having an office full of women allows him the opportunity to stretch his legs a bit, well at least the middle one! But when John really does get to know a woman he can be a real charmer. He’s caring, funny, a good listener, and very easy on the eyes. John’s married though and that complicates things a bit. He and his wife live in a condo not far from the office and if she were to walk into the office at the wrong time, well, let’s not linger on that thought.
Today was the first time since I started working here that things between John and I took the turn I had been hoping for, although for the first half of the day it didn’t seem like I was going to be on the receiving end of the object of my desire. I’d been aware that John seemed to have an interest in me. He was always talking to me about my progress on the job and seemed to linger in discussions on business topics longer than necessary as if to just “be with me” longer, but I never seemed to get a spark going long enough to start a fire. Occasionally, John would compliment me on my dress or my hair, but it never seemed flirty or sexual, just polite banter. This guy is really slow, I always thought to myself. So when John asked Debbie out to a private lunch without any of the rest of us being invited I got a bit jealous, maybe even downcast. Debbie took him to her favorite local spot which I knew was a quiet, dark, sort of romantic restaurant. Things didn’t seem to be going in my direction. Debbie outranked me at the company and it was beginning to look like she might get the first “raise” out of John.
When they returned from lunch Debbie came over to my desk and I could tell she really wanted to talk. She and John had been gone quite a while and I was slightly afraid of what I might hear if she started talking, but there wasn’t going to be any stopping her. The worst thing a girl can hear is a detailed recap of how her best friend lured the man she had picked out for herself into the sack. I closed the door to my office, sat back in my chair, and prepared for the worst. Debbie was struggling with the constant absence of her husband and I knew she wasn’t particularly strong when it came to avoiding sexual temptation. (Again, don’t ask me how I know this.) She was divorced by her last husband for fucking the man who used to have John’s job here at the company. As the closest employee working under John (I hoped not literally), there was every chance the scene might repeat itself. And the shame of it was that I think John and I could really get something going with the right opportunity.
Debbie relayed to me how she had insisted to John that she was going to be true to her husband and that even though she wanted to reach under the table and stroke his “cock” (her word, not mine), she was not going down the same path with him that she had with his predecessor. Wow, that was a relief to hear, although I couldn’t put much faith in her words and I also had no idea how strong John would be at helping her keep her wish. After all, Debbie is an incredibly beautiful, sexy woman and I knew from my conversations with John that things weren’t always rosy at home for him when it came to sex. Given the right situation and enough alcohol, “cocks” and, that other nasty word, were going to intertwine. I just hoped it would be John and I locked in that embrace. I was surprised when Debbie said she actually recommended that I might be a good candidate for John to hook up with. Little did she know how true that was. She went on to inform me that tonight we were all going to happy hour together to get a little better acquainted. I told her I could go only if my twin daughters could come along as I had promised to take them out after work already. Since all the guys at the bar love to hit on the twins, she said that was no problem. We were set!
At the bar we made a point to get a table where our friend Tammie could wait on us. Tammie has been more than just a friend to me of late and it made me comfortable having her in the middle of the scene. After my divorce a few years ago I was a bit lost and looking for comfort. I first turned to Debbie as someone to talk to and a shoulder to cry on. Sometimes when that happens it can lead to deeper exploration. In the case of Debbie and me a torrid girl on girl affair began that went on for several years, until Debbie started screwing our ex-boss and broke things off with me. That in turn led to her divorce which threw her back into my arms, but after she met a new man and married again I was once again alone. Each time I hit the bottom it was Tammie who came to the rescue. And she “came” and “came” almost at the drop of her panties. Tammie is slightly older than my daughters and holds down double jobs as a cocktail waitress and a stripper on her nights off from the bar. She makes more money stripping but isn’t totally into the “$20 bill with legs” crowd as she referred to the patrons of the clubs. I became friendly with her because I had become like a yo-yo in and out of the bar every time I needed a pick me up, which was fairly often. There was more than one night that Tammie coaxed me into her bed and I was usually a willing participant.
My daughters were already at the bar when Debbie and John and I arrived and they were chatting it up with Tammie. They had become friends during the many times Tammie slept over at our house. I hoped the twins thought she was just a friend hanging out but I always suspected they knew about us or that Tammie may have even told them. The girls definitely knew about my love affair with Debbie so it wouldn’t take much of a leap to pencil Tammie in as the replacement. Tammie was built in a way that men couldn’t resist with great tits, muscled legs and a sexy ass. She walked in a slow seductive manner like a stripper coming out on the dance floor as she shuffled around the bar serving tables. It always drew a lot of attention. Tammie was forward too and it got men’s minds thinking sex almost the moment she engaged them in conversation. When she implied that John must be hung like a stud if he was planning to handle all four of us at the table, the rest of us girls knew she could have taken him away from us in an instant and had John humping her over a keg in the storeroom in the back of the bar. She just had that way of getting a man to drop his pants, or a girl for that matter.
The conversation got a little dull for me so I begged off for a ladies room break but went straight to the bar to talk with Tammie. “You’re not going to fuck that guy tonight are you?” she started in.
“The thought crossed my mind, yes. Is that a problem? Can’t I enjoy some of the fruits of my labor?” I thought my reference to picking up something from work was sort of clever. Tammie didn’t seem to share my wit but I also didn’t expect that she would really begrudge me a night of personal bliss given how dismal my love relationships have been in the recent past.
“Well, just be careful girl. You hardly know the guy.” She genuinely seemed to be concerned for me given the tone of her reply. She worked away at the tray of fresh washed drink glasses in front of her, drying them and restacking them. I turned away without saying anything else and made my way to the powder room. Her concern for me brought back feelings of our compassionate moments together over the past. I always felt fulfilled making love with Tammie and whether I wanted to admit it or not, I missed a woman’s touch right now.
The door to the women’s restroom burst open in a mock display of dominance and there stood Tammie, strong and bold and determined to have me. We were both smiling at each other as we liked to play out these little drama games which always seemed to lead to more serious lovemaking. It was sort of an “ice breaker” I guess you might say. Neither of us were really physically overpowering toward each other when we made love. I feigned a stumble back against the wall throwing my hands above me as if to say, “I’m yours, take me”. Tammie pinned my hands gently to the wall and leaned her body into me and lowered her lips onto mine without a pause. I opened my mouth to her tongue and began to suck it gently in and out and she pushed her strong hips against my legs. Things were moving from “love playing” to “love making” quickly. I never offered much resistance to Tammie when she approached me in this way. I know how uncomfortable it can be for a woman to need another woman and find the feeling is not mutual. For me, it was always mutual with Tammie.
I offered no resistance when she slid her hand inside my skirt and under my panties until she reached me. I felt that familiar rush that made me want to wrap my legs around her and guide her fingers deeper into my vagina. This was not going to be the time or the place for the encounter she was seeking though and I had to delicately extricate myself from her as politely as I could, even though surrendering to her at that moment was an option I considered for a brief moment. Tonight, though, I wanted John. I backed her face away from mine with both my hands and looked deeply into her loving eyes, “Tammie, I can’t do this tonight. Please give me enough space to see what is out there for me tonight. Please?”
She lowered her lips to the neckline of my blouse and kissed me slowly once, then again, then once more as I felt her fingers slide out of me and her hand returned to her side. “You know I will, love”, she whispered softly. And just as quickly as our little play began it had ended. She kissed me once more on the lips, looked in the mirror and gave her hair a quick flip of her hand and then turning her head back to me as she exited the door she uttered, “Good luck, girl. I’ll be at home pining away for you all night.” She blew me a most decidedly theatrical kiss in keeping with our little game and hurried out the door to her duties, and I hurried out behind her to attend to mine.
John and Debbie had apparently had their hands full with the twins while I was having a hand with Tammie. I made a quick decision, over their pouty protests to send them home in a cab, partly because they were beginning to attract a little too much male attention in the bar, and partly because I wanted to attack a little more, from John at least. John played the gentleman’s role and escorted the girls to the cab. The instructions to the cab driver were to take them directly home but I think they must have used their considerable charms to direct the cab to another party as they would not arrive home that night until after I did. After they were safely on their way (to who knows where) I was determined to turn my focus to John and Debbie and what might become of the rest of the evening.
I had probably already had too much to drink when Tammie brought Debbie and me another round. Debbie was getting playful and had a case of wandering hands and lips, a sign her husband had been away too long again. Given our history together, given my love play with Tammie in the restroom, and given one drink to many, I didn’t protest when she started kissing my neck. Her timing was not too good, or maybe it was too good, because John caught us in the act when he returned from putting the girls in the cab. I wasn’t at all sure of my next move but John made it for me, for all of us, when he suggested we go back to his office where we could look out at the city skyline and have a drink or two and perhaps continue our little “show” as he called it. I assumed he was referring to Debbie making out with me and although it wasn’t my first goal of the night, if that’s what it took to continue my “assault” on John, I would be a willing player. To me John’s suggestion sounded like a disguised version of the old line, “Let’s go some place more private.” It worked on Debbie. It worked on me. A short walk later we would find ourselves in just such a place.
I was always a bit of a reluctant lesbian. It even sounds weird to say because I don’t see myself as wearing any sexual labels. I just know I generally prefer men, but sometimes, usually when enough alcohol is involved, I can let myself go and thoroughly and completely enjoy the touch of another woman. John was supplying plenty of the necessary ingredients and in short order Debbie was too drunk to hold back her needs. In her desperate struggle to remain faithful to her husband though, in whatever terms she could justify, she had perched herself on a chair and was facing John and me on the couch, skirt already on the floor and her blouse half unbuttoned. She would not be a source of companionship for me tonight although I had had enough to drink that I would have definitely complied if asked. She began to slowly finger herself and continued to sip on a drink as she looked at John and me embracing on the couch. The drinks had taken me to a familiar place, a place where I felt free to give myself to another. I was ready for John, for anyone, to give me the attention I so wanted. I was ready to open my body and have my most intimate reaches explored and caressed. I was ready to use my body, my hands, and my mouth to give pleasure in return.
Debbie began to lose her senses as she continued to masturbate in front of us. She blurted out a string of outrageous words. “Fuck her John. Fuck Susan. Look at her John. She’s horny as hell. She wants it. Look at that pretty red suit she has on. I bet she has lace panties and a lace bra underneath.”
In a moment that could have been unnerving, John calmly questioned, “Lace panties, huh?” and I could only grin. He already had his hand in my skirt and probably knew the texture of my undergarments. I did like lace. I did like red. I thought they gave me power over a man. I thought they sent a signal that I was alive. And it seemed to work a lot.
Unlike Debbie, John and I had partaken of just the right amount of liquid courage. We drank in enough to open our minds to new pleasures and enough to be free to act. And I did. I reached for John’s belt when he arose from the couch and his pants fell to the floor. When he pulled his shorts down I took him in my mouth and began to pleasure him slowly, trying to remember the images of the girls in the dirty movies I had watched with my previous lovers and the technique that the men they were consuming seemed to want. I hoped I was good. I hoped he liked it. I put my hand between his legs and reached down under his manhood, which was incredibly firm and hard, and held his balls in my hand. I already wanted him inside me, but for now he was held captive by my lips, my tongue, and my mouth. I was enjoying the moment as John pushed himself in and out. I watched his eyes and his facial expression. The slower I stroked him the more the pleasure it seemed to give him.
John got busy with the buttons on my blouse and I helped him remove my bra. His tongue felt incredible as it worked from one erect nipple to the other and then back in a slow, seemingly endless, torturous merry-go-round. My nipples are sensitive and I began to thrust my hips slightly upward and then back in a rocking motion toward him as his mouth continued to pleasure them. John reacted to my hip thrust almost immediately. I felt his fingers lifting the band on my panties and I rocked myself a bit faster up and then back down on the couch. I quivered with building passion as he reached inside. The only way a woman can react to a finger insider her is with motion. She will create motion upward toward something, away from something, or pound on something, even if it’s thin air. I was wet and I think it made his hard on even harder. I pulled gently on the skin around his cock. I had already wondered what it might feel like inside me. I knew I would no longer wonder after tonight. I ran my fingers around the engorged purple head at the end and again watched his eyes register his approval. I wanted John in me now but I instinctively knew we would take our time before arriving.
I glanced over at Debbie. She didn’t seem to be watching us as intently as before. She was concentrating on the steady driving motion of her own fingers into her vagina. She looked moist and wet and there was a small puddle on the chair between her legs. She had taken off her remaining clothing at this point and John and I followed suit. All of us were naked and somewhat aware of the fact and somewhat oblivious to it. Each was searching for their own goal and each was nearing it moment by moment. I wanted to reach for Debbie and make her part of us but I had John’s fingers inside me and they were dominating my senses. My hand was on him and working the shaft of his cock a little faster as he worked on me. I wanted this to last as long as possible. I had not been with a man much in the last few years. John was my re-entry into the male word. And he was every bit up to the task.
It was the moment and it wouldn’t wait any longer. John would enter me now and I would give myself to him, offer myself for his use, his consumption, and he would fill me and engulf me with his size. I wanted him to push it in and force it as far back as there was to go. He spread my legs with his hands and reached under me, lifting me slightly and pulling me closer. I was open and vulnerable. He took his cock in his hand and guided it to me. The tip slid in just past my outer lips and he just held it there for a moment. I twitched, shuddered, and lunged a bit upward. The waiting was both maddening and pleasurable. Each entry and pull back was a little longer, a little deeper, a little quicker.
There is that moment I remembered from previous lovers when the sensations of skin against skin overwhelm the controlling mind and the lunge occurs. It hit John like a lightning bolt and he lunged. He bucked. He reached me as deep as could be reached. And then, “I”, fucked him. I mean I really fucked him. At that moment, my own lunge had occurred. I placed my hands around the cheeks of his buttocks and alternately pulled and released. I was in control for a brief moment. I pushed him into me as deep as I could and then I pulled him out until the purple bulb at the end of his cock nearly slid out of me, and then I pushed him back in, again and again and again I repeated the process until…
All my years of frustration came flowing out in a matter of moments. I had John in me as deep as he could go and instead of continuing my pushing and pulling I held him at that penetrating moment and clung to his buttocks, my hands insuring that he remained deep inside me. I held my breath for just a moment and then I exploded. My legs wrapped around the outside of John’s legs and hooked back together behind him. My hands left his buttocks and clung to his broad shoulders. My face buried in his neck and I felt my teeth clamp down and a muffled cry came from my lips. He pounded, and pounded inside me as I came and a moment later I was spent. Totally spent. Totally consumed. Totally used. Totally John’s. And it felt incredible.
I fell back against the couch and realized Debbie had been watching my orgasm and that somehow John had lasted through my rocking, explosive eruption and had not come when I did. It was a major turn on to realize that I had found a man who could bring me to the height of my passion and still be unspent himself. How do you satisfy a man like that? John had continued to buck and groan the entire time I was exploding on him, gushing on him, and riding him into my own oblivion. But it was now his turn. He needed a release and it needed to be big.
Debbie’s eyes focused on John’s hard cock that was still slippery wet with my pussy juice. John was now on his knees on the couch above me and stroking his own cock slowly as if looking for a place to unload his seed. He stood up from the couch and moved himself directly in front of Debbie’s face, still slowly jacking off his hard rod. Watching his hand moving up and down that cock that had just been so deep inside me made me horny for sure, but I was done for already, yet I wanted to be part of his finish. Just like any conquering hero, John had laid me to waste, utterly and completely overloading my senses and rocking me with an indescribable orgasm, and was now looking for a new conquest. That conquest sat directly in front of him, fingering her pussy and gazing longingly at John’s massive dick.
I raised up from the couch and then took my place next to John, sitting upright on the floor on my knees, facing a cock that was about to explode. I put my hand around the shaft and John let his go to his side. I continued the slow jacking motion that John had been applying to his member and glanced at Debbie. With her face just inches from that cock, her fingers rocked in and out of her pussy and she came with a violent thrusting convulsion. I aimed John’s cock directly at her face and jacked off his massive load on her lips. I lapped up the jism from Debbie’s face and kissed and licked her lips, her chin and her breasts until there was no more of John to swallow, then turned my face to his spent cock and sucked his balls dry of his sweet love making nectar.
Thanks for letting me tell the Female Version of “Work Related Fringe Benefits, Part 1”
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