Chapter 4
Paul was feeling unusually raunchy for a Monday. Especially considering the orgy Saturday had been. It had started first thing that morning, on the elevator. As usual, it had been packed. Paid had been stuck at the back. More and more people shoved in for the long ride to the forty-first floor.
Then Brenda's soft, warm, round ass had pressed against him. Brenda, it was generally conceded, had the finest ass of any of the secretaries. In fact, Brenda was the best looker in the office. She always wore tight sexy blouse-slack combinations, or outrageously mini miniskirts. Today she had on blouse and slacks. All that mattered in the elevator was her ass. It pushed against him, a warm, soft, inviting nest for his cock. His cock had gotten the idea, and stiffened and swelled. Driving out against his pants, it had shoved impatiently against Brenda's taut bottom.
She hadn't pulled away at all, which had further increased his horniness. She couldn't have been unaware of his erection. He had thought for a moment that she was. But then she had squirmed her bottom against him, until his thrusting prick was nestled in the valley between her buttocks. It had even felt as if she had tried to squeeze his prick with her ass.
All of which was making it harder than hell to concentrate. As he wrestled to get his mind on his work, someone sashayed past, brushing against him, distracting him. He looked up in time to see Brenda open the door to the file room and go in. She hadn't looked in his direction as she closed the door.
For about ten seconds, he wrestled with himself. He had no idea whether she had bumped his arm deliberately on her way past or not. And one of his unbreakable rules was that he did no romancing of girls from the office.
His horniness drove him to get up from his desk. He looked around to see if anyone had noticed anything. The Margin Accounts Department where he worked was, as usual, like a morgue. Ebeneezer Scrooge would have been ecstatic over the concentrated devotion displayed by the other workers.
Paul walked briskly, and casually, he hoped, toward the men's room. Only he turned in one door early. His hand was sweaty and slippery on the knob of the file room door. .
The latch clicked quietly shut behind him. Brenda didn't seem to have heard it. Her back toward him, she was searching through a file drawer. Moving up behind her as silently as possible, he cupped a palm to one of her rounded ass cheeks and began stroking it slowly and sexily. Her butt was hot, and firm, and soft, and exciting. He ran his finger along the crack, down between her rounded thighs. She made no move to discourage him. In fact, her legs eased apart, making it possible for him to get his hand completely between her thighs, and into her humid crotch. The material of her pants was pulled tight against her hot nook. He could feel the hollow behind her pubic arch where her pussy was deepest and hottest, and the most interesting.
"Mmmmnn, looking for something?" she asked softly.
"Uh huh," he acknowledged.
"Well, I think maybe you've found the right slot," she sighed passionately. "But I'm not sure you're using the right tool." Blindly, she reached back and found the bristling tower of his phallus. Her fingers traced maddeningly along its rigid length, and he felt a hot trickle stain his pants from her delicate touch.
He pressed his fingers up into her sweating nook. He felt her shift and rock her pelvis as he probed the deep softness of her crotch. Easing his fingers forward a little, he pressed in just behind the arch of her pubic bone. She was leaning forward now, leaning on the open file drawer, but paying no attention to the ranks of folders. Her soft, pretty features were blank with lust.
Curious about her limits, Paul probed hard with his thumb, right between her ass cheeks. There was no show of rebellion. Rather, she pushed her ass out farther, encouraging him. He crammed her pants hard into the crack of her tail.
Her fingers found his fly and eased the zipper down over the jutting ridge of his prick. Then she was fondling his erection through his sticky, damp underpants. Her fingers squeezed his penis, testing its hardness, measuring its size.
"Let's go to the 'dead, file' room," he suggested softly, "where we're less likely to be disturbed."
"Uh huh," she agreed breathily, sliding the drawer closed, releasing his phallus.
He followed her, his eyes on the lush swell of her ass. Her dark blue pants were molded to the rounded mounds of her buttocks like they were painted on. He could see the seams of a pair of bikini panties ridging the tight stretch fabric. The roll of her ass spoke volumes. But it wasn't vulgar-just pleasingly sexy.
"Anyone see you come in here?" she asked, closing the door behind them and locking it.
"I don't know."
"We'd better not take too long. This file room isn't as 'dead' as all that, so we better be careful. Just bare the important parts so we can cover up quick if we have to."
Paul glanced around the small room. "Sounds as if you're experienced at this," he observed. The room was really a large deep closet. Shelves on either side held cardboard boxes of old files. The area between them was barely wide enough for one person. There was less than four feet between the door and the far wall.
"I like a quickie now and then," Brenda admitted. "Now hurry, huh?"
Paul smiled at her, and slid his hand down into her crotch, from the front this time, and cupped his palm and fingers to her hot mound. Her well-endowed chest rose and fell as he pressed his fingers against her steaming pussy. There was a hot glow in her eyes. They slitted with lust. Her soft, sensuous lips rounded as if she wanted to have a cock driven into her mouth.
Then she was unbuckling his belt, unhooking his pants. Letting them drop down his legs, she hauled his underpants down and freed his towering erection. Lowering her eyes to look at it, she curled her warm, soft fingers around his big, erect organ and massaged it, bringing a hot, stringing drop welling out of the tip. She smeared it around provocatively.
Paul unbuttoned the waistband of her pants and ran the zipper of her fly down over her plump, delectable tummy, down toward her pussy. Her pants opened and exposed a vee of soft flesh, and then the strained lace of her panties. He eased the slacks down over the lush fullness of her tail, and part way down her tan, well-formed thighs.
Her snatch was like a shadow under the white lace. He slid his hands down into her panties in back, over her butt, and began to ease them down as he fondled her ass. Her skin was hot and satin smooth under his fingers. More and more of her tummy was exposed, and then the twisting curls of her dark brown bush sprang free.
Still stroking his cock with one hand, she eased the fingers of her other hand under it to cup his balls in a five jock strap. He could feel the sperm spurt out of his testicles from her warm, thrilling touch. Her fingers were sticky with his lubricant as she fondled his organs lovingly.
After shoving her panties down around her thighs, he pried his fingers into the sweaty crack of her ass. After probing her there thoroughly, he approached her from the front, pressing his fingers down through her hot bush, slipping one digit into her nook. She was hot and slippery and wet and ready. He plunged his finger deep into her vagina. She rocked her pelvis forward in invitation. He pulled his finger out, and then pressed the length of it up along her crack, her hot flesh accepting it like a warm bun takes a frankfurter. He felt the bud of her clit squirm aside, and tormented it skillfully.
"Hurry," she grunted, tugging at his penis, dragging him toward her. She turned her back to him and leaned over a stack of cartons. She pulled the tail of her blouse up over her back. Her bare ass toward him, she peered back over her shoulder. "Hurry up, will you?"
Paul held back, admiring the two round buns of her tail. They were gleaming softly in the light from the overhead fluorescent fixture. The tan pattern revealed what Brenda's usual sunbathing attire was. Her thighs were darkly tanned up to the bottom of her ass cheeks. Then outside a V that angled up from the bottom was a lighter tanned area. In the center, a wedge-shaped pale patch marked the outline of a miniscule bikini. Dividing the white triangle was her deep, dark, exciting crack.
Leaning forward, he could see the dark hair-speckled labia of her pussy under her ass, between her thighs. The crack between them seemed to be calling for his prick.
"Hurry," she urged desperately.
Stepping up behind her, he guided his phallus between her legs and nestled its head in her opening. Looking down at his rigid prick, he watched as he pressed it slowly home in her hot, slick vagina.
"Yeah," she sighed. "Oh, God. Yeah."
Surrounded by musty old files, the smell of aging paper and cardboard, Paul drove his prick into Brenda's slick, velvety hole. His hips rammed up against her soft bottom. He leaned forward over her. The entire length of his phallus was wrapped in hot, wet woman flesh. Sliding his hands around her ribs, he cupped her soft, warm, satin-covered breasts. She was not wearing a bra. Gently, he cradled her generous boobs with his hands.
He began to pump his cock in her dripping hole. He felt her tunnel caress his meat. His glans was burning like fire.
"Aaah, yeah," she sighed, as she took his brutal length in her hungry hole. "Aaah, soo good! Soo big! Aaahhh."
Releasing one of her breasts, Paul eased his hand down into her dripping pussy from the front. His exploring finger entered her wet crack and found where his cock entered her vagina. Experimentally, he tried to get his finger in next to the heavy shaft of his cock. There wasn't room. He retreated, and located her clitoris. It was a big one-a long, slender miniature prick jutting out demandingly. He took it between thumb and forefinger, pleased that Brenda's nerve bud was so long and hungry. He pinched and rolled it with his fingers, and heard her wail as he felt her vagina fountain around his cock.
Clutching her breast hard with one hand, tormenting her clit with his other, he rammed his cock into her searing tunnel. His hips hammered against hers. She was gasping, her breath huffing out of her each time his hips crashed against her tail. Her long, dark brown hair swayed and jerked as her body convulsed with lust.
His pistoning cock churned her come to a paste as he rammed it in and out of her. His semen began to seethe and boil in his guts as he drew closer and closer to his blistering coming. He mangled her clit, and clawed her soft, swaying breast as he raped his organ into her spasming cunt.
His orgasm tore through him, a blasting, jerking, heaving series of convulsions that hurled thick wads of pearly liquid deep into her body. His cock spasmed, jetting fluid from its tip and sending a message of pure pleasure to Paul's brain. Hauling at Brenda, thrusting at her, he fought to spit her on his cock, fought to ram his penis ah the way up through her and out her mouth.
Then, weakly, Paul backed away, and extracted his hands. The fingers that had been massaging her cunt were dripping. His shriveling phallus emerged from her, soaked and softening. He leaned wearily against a stack of file boxes while he caught his breath.
He was startled when she turned and sank to the floor in front of him. Leaning forward, she used her sweet, sensuous, passionate mouth to clean his flaccid cock of their combined secretions.
He helped her to her feet. She pulled her pants and underpants up. "I'll bet I leak like a waterfall."
"Sorry about that," Paul apologized as he fastened his own pants.
"The wages of sin," she noted philosophically.
Paul had the feeling that he owed her something. "You doing anything tonight?" he asked.
She looked at him. Her dark eyes were exciting, and unreadable. "You mean, like a date or something?"
"Yeah."
"Sorry, I have to get home. My mother."
"Oh." He tried to conceal his disappointment. "But, if I should be required to, ah, work late," Brenda went on, "something might-ah-come up."
"I don't see...."
"For example, maybe we could confer on deep matters, in the conference room, after quitting time."
Brenda suggested. "There are some important matters on the table there-or there will be, around about 5:30."
Paul caught on, and manfully, his cock tried to respond. It didn't make it. He unlocked the door and led the way into the main file room. "I think you're right," he agreed. "I'll come by your desk about 5:15 and we can start on the agenda."
Paul made his way back to his desk. No one seemed to have noticed his lengthy absence. Whistling quietly to himself, he continued working his way down the stack of transactions that had to be recorded. His crotch felt hot, wet, and sticky, a reminder of what had just happened. Ten minutes later, Brenda came out of the file room. She strolled past him without even a glance or twitch to acknowledge what had just gone on between them.
The day seemed to drag on forever. By lunch time, all he had to do was think of her sweet, soft, round ass and he was hard again. All during the afternoon, he tried valiantly to keep his mind off what was coming so he wouldn't be too sore to enjoy it. Five o'clock came, and with it, the usual stampede for the door. There were a few lingerers who drove Paul nuts. Finally, they trickled out.
Locking his desk, he headed for executive country where Brenda worked for two of the lower vice-presidents. The office was as silent as a tomb, except for the steady clickety of what he hoped was her typewriter and no one else's.
Her back was to him. He admired the way her bottom perched on the secretarial chair. Silently, he moved up behind her. But his touch didn't make her flinch. Evidently she had heard him coming. He eased his hands down over her soft, warm breasts and massaged them tenderly through her slippery blouse. He felt her nipples responding, hardening under his touch.
She stopped typing, but left her fingers on the keys. She leaned back slightly as he massaged her boobs. They molded to his fingers and palms-all except the impatient, stiff nipples that were set into her yielding flesh like hard pebbles.
"Bosses gone?" he asked, just to be sure.
"Uh huh," she assured him. Her voice seemed to hum into his palms.
He unbuttoned her top slowly, drawing it back to expose the globes of her breasts. He was looking down on them from above. He sucked in his breath in amazement. They were fantastic. Creamy, round mounds, each with the triangular imprint of the cups of her bathing suit. Her nipples were tantalizing close to the edges of the pale area. Her brown areolae, each an inch in diameter were perfect circles. Each had a protuberant, pucker-tipped nipple in the exact center.
Paul circled his palms against her jutting tits, just barely touching them. He could see them tug from the gentle friction. They grew stiff and hard from the stimulation.
Brenda rested her head back against his belly, and purred. The back of her neck was pressing against the heavy rod of his hard-on.
Paul eased his hands lower, curled his fingers under her breasts and weighed them. Leaning forward, he caught sight of her pretty, slightly pudgy features, her plump cheeks, the circle of her sensuous mouth. Her eyes were closed, her face a mask of lust from his touch. He could see her tongue flicking along the tips of her white teeth in an unconsciously sexy maneuver.
The sudden harsh rattle of her typewriter jolted them both. Brenda giggled nervously, and turned it off. "Sorry," she apologized.
"You said something about a conference, I believe?" Paul asked, his hands still fondling her boobs lovingly.
"I've always wanted to make it on the great big table they have in there," Brenda answered. "Right in front of those huge windows that look out over the city. What do you think?"
Paul's cock stiffened at the thought. "Sounds interesting."
"Come on," she whispered tensely, getting to her feet. She held his sweating hand in her warm, dry one as they walked past the empty cubicles and offices, past the ranked desks and neatly stacked papers. Her naked breasts shifted delightfully as she walked. She seemed totally unconcerned with her open top.
"Here we are." She opened the big wooden door and flicked a switch. A single spotlight went on. Three of the walls, including the lighted one, were floor-to-ceiling bookcases. The fourth wall was solid windows from end to end, from the ceiling almost to the floor. It looked out over a breathtaking panorama of tall buildings and twinkling lights. The window faced east. The setting sun was behind the building, making the room comparatively dark.
"Why don't you sit here," Brenda suggested, running her hand along the back of the chair at the head of the long conference table. "While I present my-uh-proposition?"
Paul eased himself tensely down into the chair. He watched intently as she moved gracefully and easily around the table to the lighted end of the room. Facing him, she studied the situation, then shook her head.
Going to the door, she flicked the light switches on and off until she had the effect she wanted. She had turned out ah the lights except one at the far end of the table. It cast a bright pool of light on the highly polished wood.
Pulling out the chair at that end, Brenda stepped out of her shoes and up onto the chair. Then she stepped onto the table itself, and stood in the pool of light. Facing him, she posed like a model, one foot forward, one knee slightly bent. With her eyes focused on him, she stripped her creamy yellow satin top back off her shoulders and tossed it casually onto the chair.
Paul was gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles were white. He was trying to keep himself from leaping up on the table and attacking her. His eyes swept over her, noting the lushness of her breasts, the way her torso tapered in to her waist, the flare of her hips, which were still hugged by the double-knit slacks she wore. Her breasts gleamed in the light. Her nipples thrust out at him saucily. They had a slight upward tilt because of the gentle sag of her breasts.
Without taking her eyes off him, she unbuttoned the waist of her slacks. She ran the zipper down slowly. It was the same zipper he had made use of that morning. The slacks opened to reveal her straining panties, the soft roundness of her belly.
Sensuously sliding her palms down her sleek, graceful thighs, she eased the pants down her legs. Bending over, her breasts swaying heavily, she worked her feet out of her slacks and tossed them onto a chair.
Straightening up, she faced him again in the same tantalizing pose, one thigh partially hiding her panty-covered pussy. Her dark brown eyes were sparkling with excitement. Her perfect teeth flashed and her tongue again ran along their tips.
With her left hand on her hips, she teased her right down into the front of her panties, lower, and lower, and lower. Paul felt as if his insides were melting into a hot puddle. He watched the bulge of her fingers ease into her crotch. They were hidden behind that damn tantalizing thigh. Her face was flushed with lust, her gut was sucking in. He could almost feel her hot, slippery cunt with his own fingertips as he watched her.
She played with herself under her panties for only a moment. Then she slipped her hands out, and slowly skinned her panties down. She did it the same easy way she had her pants, stroking her sleek legs as she pushed her undergarment all the way down to her ankles. When she bent over, her breasts swayed heavily. She stepped out of the flimsy lace, let it dangle from the end of one finger for a moment, then let it drop.
She kept her thighs scissored shut and cut off his view of her crotch. He could see the edge of her twisting brown bush. It was still stringy from their interlude that morning. Then, hands on her hips, she walked slowly, deliberately down the table toward him. Every step gave him a brief glimpse of her emit.
He had to tip his head back as she got closer and closer and closer to him. Then she was towering over him, looking down at him past the rounded thrust of her breasts. Her hands were still on her hips. Then, at last, she spread her feet shoulder width apart, and gave him a straight up, incredible view of her crotch.
Her hairy snatch was about a foot from his face. He could see her bulging pale-skinned labia. He could see the dark crack between them. In the heart of her crotch, he could see the soft pink gleaming inner folds.
Slipping her hands down her belly, she parted her pussy lips and exposed the heart of her sex. There was the hood, her long clit, the small opening of her urethra, and the large orifice of her vagina, ah laid out neatly in a line. Placing a fingertip on her clit, she teased it back and forth, in full view.
"Like something to eat?" she asked softly.
"Yeah," he agreed, his mouth watering.
With casual grace, she sat down with her feet hanging off the table. When she eased her ass forward, her skin squeaked on the dark, highly polished wood. She spread her thighs as she worked her ass to the edge of the table.
Paul's meal was right in front of him. Carefully, tenderly, he reached out and parted her thick curls, combed them aside. Then, gently, he spread her labia, and exposed her fiery core. Her silent wafted up to him, heavy and tantalizing.
Leaning forward, he placed his mouth on her pussy. He felt her watching everything he did. Spearing out his tongue, he raped it up her slit, used it to spread the inner folds, from her vagina clear to her clit. His hands were on her lower belly. His thumbs were holding her labia open. He felt her guts spasm convulsively from the rasping caress of his tongue. He bored it into her streaming tunnel. Grinding his nose into her wet folds, he tried to touch bottom with his tongue. With her clit squirming around under his nose, he wiggled his tongue hard in the nerve leaded entrance of her vagina. His ef forts were rewarded by a whimpering, and a flood of liquid that bathed his face. He snorted into her juicy folds and fought to bore his tongue deeper into her. Her hips heaved and rocked. He squirmed his face in her crotch, knowing it would drive her insane.
She whined again. The muscles of her thighs were jumping wildly.
Drawing his tongue out of her streaming depths, he nibbled higher until he came to her clitoris. He sucked it into his mouth, drawing on it, tugging it away from her as hard as he could. Then, with the inch-long tumescent bit of flesh between his lips, he battered it wildly with his tongue.
Brenda collapsed on her back on the hard table, helplessly convulsed by the blazing stimulation. Her hips bounced in Paul's face as he brought her to a screaming peak with his lips and tongue. Her hands clamped down on the back of his head, jammed his face into her hairy, fountaining pussy.
Tearing his face away from her crotch, Paul lurched to his feet. Ripping off his shirt, he tore his belt and pants open and freed his steel-hard cock. The table was the perfect height. Standing over Brenda, his pants tangled around his ankles, he set the bulging knob of his phallus in her cunt and w-edged it in far enough to keep it from slipping out. Then he leaned over her, and grabbed her wrists. He pulled her arms straight and tight, and held them there in a straining victory reach.
Then, in full view of anyone who might be looking in the forty-first-story window, he bored his cock straight up into her tight, dripping, clinging cunt. He felt his tower being swallowed by her hot flesh. He jammed his prick home in her belly until the full length was in her vagina and his hips were jammed tight against her wide stretched crotch.
"Aww, Jesus!" she groaned, rolling her head on the hard table.
"Like that?" he asked.
"Feels like I've got a giant in me," she answered hoarsely. "Jesus!"
"I won't be able to hold off for long," he grunted. "You got me too fucking hot."
"Just take me," she answered. "You brought me off with your mouth already. It's your turn now."
He appreciated her offer, and took her up on it. Drawing his cock out, he rammed it back into her again, hard. His prick was blazing with the searing friction. The semen that was pooled and ready was tossing and frothing. Holding her crucified on the board room table, he pounded his prick into her guts until his carnal convulsions overwhelmed him and his come unloaded in thick, gooey wads.
He felt her vagina spasming and convulsing around his jetting penis as she came for the third time that day. Excess come oozed down over his balls, and pooled thickly on the table. His spurtings faded slowly. He slumped onto her, drained and exhausted.
A few minutes later, his cock completely withered, he pulled away from her and sank back in the chair. She didn't move. She just lay there with her thighs spread wide, his come oozing slowly out of her inflamed and swollen pussy. He felt her juices drying to a crust on his face.
Finally she sat up. "You're okay, for a junior-junior executive," she announced. He lifted an eyebrow at her. "You're a sexual snob?"
She smiled. "If I were, would I be here with you?"
"What's all this to you?" he asked, curious. "A good fuck. And satisfaction for my curiosity."
"Curiosity about what?"
"About what you had between your legs. I've had my eye on you. The new fashions are nice and tight and revealing."
"Hmmmm." Paul wasn't sure he liked the idea of being watched like that. But what the hell, wasn't that exactly the way he looked at women?
"So, when I felt that thing of yours trying to get at me in the elevator this morning, I decided today was the day," she went on.
"You expected me to follow when you went into the file room?" he asked.
"What do you think?"
"You set me up for it," he said, for some reason not at all happy with the idea.
"Of course I did. And don't look like you've been shat upon. I didn't just come out and ask you to fuck the way some girls do these days." Swinging her legs to one side, she got down from the table and walked to the window. She stood looking out at the dark city, totally visible to anyone in a nearby building.
Paul kicked free of his pants and walked over behind her. Putting his arms around her, he cupped a breast with one hand, and wormed his other into her soggy crotch. She leaned back against him, and squirmed her soft, warm ass against his semi-hard cock.
The soft warmth of her body, the full exciting roundness of her breasts and the hot wetness in her cunt were building his lust quickly. His prick pushed impatiently up between her ass cheeks.
"Hungry little devil," she commented, wiggling her bottom.
"And why not?" he retorted. "Besides, if I can't make vice-president, I can at least make a vice-president's secretary."
They sank to the floor in front of the window. With the city looking on, he drove his cock up into her soft, willing body. Clutching her soft ass with both hands, he rammed his prick into her again and again and again. She urged him on by clawing at his back and heaving her hips up in response to his thrusts. As she came again, she sank her teeth into his shoulder. The pain seemed appropriate. He raped his penis into her, harder and harder, loving the jarring impact of his body against hers. He could feel the head of his cock slam into the end of her vagina with every brutal thrust. Her orgasm went, and she relaxed under him, totally limp.
Uncaring, he continued to slam his cock home in her guts with powerful drives of his hips. She took the drives with no reaction at all. It was as if she were dead or too battered and beaten to react.
He felt his orgasm drawing near and lifted her ass clear off the floor so he could get the deepest penetration possible. When his coming erupted, he rammed at her, driving her along the carpet, as his cock heaved and jetted in her already surfeited cunt.
When he was done, he dropped her and pulled out, abruptly, giving no thought to her. His cock spattered a trail of thick goo across the carpet as he went to get his clothes. With his back to her, he dressed. He walked out, leaving her sprawled naked on the floor of the conference room.
After a quick trip to the men's room, he waited impatiently for the elevator.
"Good evening, Mr. Grant," she greeted him, as if it were the end of any working day.
They rode down in silence. If his unfeeling treatment of her during their last coupling had bothered her, it didn't show. Down on the street, he pushed uncaringly through the homeward-bound crowds.