Just Another Kinky Wet Dream Or

It's 6:30 a. m. , and I'm deep into dreaming of that sweet babe with the looks of a porno superstar I bumped into on the track yesterday. Asleep or awake, she had the most devastatingly beautiful tush I've ever jogged behind. How I'd love to run back with her to my place, wash off all our sweat together in a long cool shower, then lick her 'till the sun comes up. First, we'd get into that shower, lather each other up, then I'd feel her tender hands holding me like this, and stroking, at first gently, next...

"... BONE TO BONE!" Suddenly I'm awakened by my alarm clock blasting out words from an old Aerosmith album, "Night in the Ruts", but I roll over to slam the oblivion button for another 10 minutes of shut eye and sweetly sensual dreams; however, it's not that easy to escape the rat race. My pleasant erotic fantasy has been ram rodded by reality.

It's a psychic rip off to replace that sultry shower escapade with my dream girl by this boring rerun of pulling up to the same old State Department annex where I usually spend each weekday. Typically, the security checks and greetings go as smoothly as clockwork. I stroll to my office with coffee in hand and meet my boss, who tells me today's morning meeting will focus on network issues. Uh, oh! That's my gig.

"Well, Jim," my boss says, "You're the man who's gonna have to debugger this baby. The big bananas are all in heat about some mysterious specialist claiming to have solutions for our problems, so you will have to go one-on-one with that person today, get down to it, and perform an in-depth evaluation. We have given the referring agency, Exquisite Release, your number, so they can contact you. " A big sigh of relief escapes from me as this information is loading into my mind. Another no sweat assignment. No hard problem to dick around with here.

Then Exquisite Release calls me, and my assignment takes on a whole new flavor. "Good Morning, Mr. Wildroot? This is Wei Fun Chow from Exquisite Release," an oriental voice explains as I encourage it onwards with grunts and muttered affirmations, "We will be sending Kin Ky, so you can assess her remedies for your hardest problem. " That sigh of relief I'd set free returns as a gasp of surprise, but the voice rides on to its punch line. "She will be arriving today around 1:00 p. m. if that is convenient?" Not thinking very fast, yet with an alarm ringing in the background of my mind, I agree, "That will be fine. " Upon discharging the phone, I shout, "No way!"

Yes, way! Security calls to tell me, "Mr. Wildroot we have someone here for you named Kin Ky from Exquisite Release. I respond, "I'll be right down. " A little voice in my mind overrides that pesky alarm bell, "Two Kin Ky's, what are the odds? Is the goddess of love for once giving me a break?"

I flashed back to the way we'd met: I had seen her for the first time on the track where we'd both gone jogging under the hot summer sun, me to keep my 33 inch waist trim, and her undoubtedly to keep her buttocks firm and thighs lithe, though Lord knows they were already enough to tempt the Pope to renounce his vows. As I came up to pass her, I involuntarily slowed to watch her cute ass bouncing beneath scanty running shorts, flashing brief glimpses of lacy panties a bit too erotic for sportswear that hinted at a woman for whom sexuality was as important as physically fitness. What can you do? As a divorced man, pressed by both family and career responsibilities, I've gone without for some time, so given a temptation like this, it's totally natural to fantasize that the gentle rhythm I've fallen into to keep pace with her jogging becomes our movement together as our bodies workout getting acquainted in bed, that the sweat gleaming on her graceful neck is from the exercise of our passionate love making, and I notice her fine back and seductive, hour-glass shape. She has a crisp tan about her skin, no fat, no cellulite, a perfect 10 fuck!...

I shook my head, thinking, "No. This is a wet dream. I'd better get back home under a cold shower and cool off. "

Then, as I pulled abreast of her, I couldn't refrain from ogling her fabulous pair of boobs bouncing in syncopation to our jogging before quickly wrenching my look of lustful appraisal upwards to her face. Seeing immediately that she'd noticed me noticing her, I could feel myself blushing with a schoolboy's embarrassment, just for a moment, then I grinned ruefully, but she seemed to take my reaction o. k. , looking at me as if I were a decade younger and a fit running mate for her.

She smiled invitingly, keeping her black eyes locked on my hazel ones. As our eye contact continued, I sensed an unexpected openness and sympathy.

Not a word had been spoken between us yet, but a jolt of mysterious magic that scientists are always trying to explain away as pheromones or subtle cues of body posture had passed through us both like a lightning bolt.

I felt my grin widen to a broad smile while the blood that had been used a moment ago for blushing was suddenly drained away to lower purposes. She glanced down, and then quickly back to my face to blush in her turn 'cuz I've clearly seen her smile of approval for the bulge straining outwards at the fabric of my running shorts.

"We could play some wonderful adult games together. " I long to tell her as I search for the right ice breaker. Nothing with that killer zing springs to mind, so I decide on the good old straightforward approach.

"Hi, I'm Jim. " I say, raising my eyebrows in enquiry.

"Call me Kinky. " she replies with a mischievous grin.

Considering those looks and that lightening bolt that had just passed between us, I'm sure she's teasing me. "Come on," I chide, "Who are you really?"

"I'm really kinky, so why not call me Kinky?"

This is too much, and we've just reached the bench where I'd left my backpack, so I motion with my hand, asking her, "Stop here for just a second?" I grab a business card from my pack. "Here. "

She looks at it. " James Wildroot, State Department, Network Troubleshooter. Don't call us, we'll call you. " She smiles coyly.

"I've got to run, now, but don't worry, Jim, Horny," with a meaningful glance at that bulge still pushing forwards the front of my shorts, "I'll help you troubleshoot your networking problem later. "

She holds my name card loosely in her slim fingers, as if not sure where to put it since her very brief shorts are without pockets, then she slides the fingers of her other hand across her taut belly, slips them between smooth skin and silky fabric, pulls the waistband forwards, shoves my card deep into her panties, turns around, and jogs off with her sweet little derriere jouncing saucily. "What a prick teaser. " I'd thought. "Never hear from her again. " I'd muttered regretfully to myself, yet today, there in the distance I can see it's her foxy figure right here at my State Department office. How the hell did she pull this off?

"Be professional," is all I can tell myself. Our eyes meet, pause while our hands shake to say, "Hello," then our hands hang around while our eyes say, "Let's fuck," yet we all manage to maintain a decent and businesslike composure as we rush up to my office.

I'm going crazy. I can see her comely hips tightly wrapped with a beige mini skirt. Her pink top accentuates her shapely shoulders with barely covered breasts making her total silhouette a perfect 10. "Think, Jim, work, network problems, you're too horny, and she's too young. " I spank myself mentally for being a bad boy.

I drape the network map over my coffee table and try to begin some appropriate discussion. We both lean across the table, so inevitably our hands come into contact. Kinky looks up at me and makes a passionate sales pitch, "Do you believe in destiny? Let's not fool ourselves. We both recognized each other when we met yesterday at the track. I saw the way you looked at me, and you couldn't misinterpret the positive looks I returned. Jim, we both have careers, this is true, but meeting you like this is the real thing. I had dreams of you last night as I'm sure you did of me, too. I don't care about your hang up with age. I know a nice man when I see him. I am attracted to you, and I mean to have you in me right now. "

I smack myself. Is this my mind playing tricks, or did she really say what I just heard? I close the office door and turn towards Kinky. She comes into my arms. My fingers run through her silky black hair. Our lips touch for the first time, and passion ignites. We both stop to glance into each other's eyes, blazing with the magnetism between two lost souls that have found each other. She whispers huskily, "Jim, Horny, I know what you need, and I'm gonna take care of it right here and now. "

Pushing me towards my desk, Kinky, says, "I know that you're a nice guy who believes in ladies first, but trust me on this one. At the office there's only one way we can do it that won't become far too noisy. " Snatching the network map from my table, she drapes it over the front of my desk so that it hangs all the way down to the floor. "Good. " Kinky nods. "Now sit at your desk so that if any passersby glance in, it will seem you are concentrating on some job. I'll kneel underneath your desk, hidden from the doorway, but when you look down between your thighs, you'll find my black eyes gazing back up at you out of the well under the desk. "

I feel a bit selfish but realize Kinky's right. Here at the busy State Department, this is the way it has to go down. Seated in my leather chair, to all appearances taking care of business, I keep my passionate gaze fixed on Kinky's lust filled face as she reaches out to run her fingertips languorously across the cloth of my pants to the little flap that hides my zipper. I reach out my right hand as if to stop her, but she grabs it with her own left and pulls it to her mouth, tenderly kissing my palm and then sucking on my fingers fervently.

A sound from the door, which I had definitely closed very carefully, but which now stands open again, draws my attention. A pretty blonde secretary, who everyone in the Networking Section knows has designs to tie me down, is standing in the doorway with a briefcase in her hand. "Jim," she says, in a voice much too sweet for government business, "can you help me with something?"

Meanwhile, the fingers of Kinky's right hand have found my zipper and, "Ziiip!" The sound is very soft, so I don't think the blonde hears it as she approaches my desk. I try to keep my cool and turn my attention to the blonde, wishing that I could watch what Kinky is doing and play with her hair and ears with my fingers, but I have to reach out with both hands to take that briefcase because the blonde is now handing it across my desk to me, holding it horizontally balanced on both her palms. The fragrant scent of her perfume comes across my desk to me with the case. It's excessively seductive, almost violently erotic.

As I lay the briefcase flat on my desk and shift my fingers from its sides, which they had been gripping, to open the snap locks in front, my right fore and index fingers leave wet trails of saliva on her case's lustrous dark leather surface. I notice the blonde noticing this, but neither of us mentions it. Perhaps she assumes I'm one of those intense dudes that suck on their fingers while deep in concentration on weighty State Department matters. Under my desk other trails of saliva are being laid by Kinky's tongue along the sensitive skin surface of my stiff cock, which she's freed of confinement behind my fly to stand proudly at attention for pleasuring. Kinky slowly licks all up and down from balls to crown, and when her tongue reaches that very special spot on the underside where there's a little dip in its purple crown, my breath hisses sharply between my teeth.

Of course, the blonde notices my arousal, but takes it as a compliment to her sexiness. She's very pleased to see it, and to encourage me further she leans forward, exposing both her bulging breasts, almost bursting forth from the light cotton blouse she's wearing with two buttons open as if in concession to the warm weather rather than in intention to heat up my lust, then places her delicate fingers over my thick ones on the clasps, so that we both open her box together. Meanwhile, Kinky, embraced by my legs, my thighs squeezing rhythmically against her cheeks, that being my only way of urging her onwards, is holding my cock lightly between her lips, tongue flicking butterfly soft touches on my sweet spot, swirling her head around in small circles, giving my crown a royal blow job.

The buxom blonde's box pops open, revealing not paperwork but sex toys: black leather studded collar, black satin bra and G-string with a chest harness and garter belt, fishnet stockings and a bondage rope. Still holding my hands and brazenly staring into my eyes, the blonde says to me in her husky voice, "This is what I want to wear only for you, Jim. We can close and lock your office door, and I'll put them on and give you a private show right now if you like. " At that moment Kinky sucks as hard as she can on my already tumescent cock, holding one finger pressed to the root to block the flow through my semen ducts momentarily, building up pressure as I start my climax without being able to ejaculate, then releasing me from bondage to erupt lavishly into her mouth like a cumming volcano.

My eyes glaze in ecstasy, and an "Ahh!" of rapture at this incredibly intense release Kinky has given me moans forth from my open mouth into the blonde's face, while the pungent smell of my cum drifts out from under my desk. Glancing down, I see Kinky's eloquent eyes apologizing to me, "I'm so sorry, Jim, I did want to swallow everything, but you came in my mouth so hard and so big that a little of your cum escaped and dripped onto your leather chair. Don't worry, I'll lick every last tasty drop off before it stains the leather or wets your pants on the seat of your precious ass. " Sweat is flowing down my face in runnels, and I'm panting as heroically as if I had just finished the Boston marathon.

The blonde is impressed, but a bit puzzled. With undisguised admiration, she says, "I've never had such a lustful reaction from propositioning a guy before, Jim. This kinky stuff must really turn you on!" Before I can pull myself together and find a suitable reply, the blonde turns around, leaving her briefcase wide open on my desk, its collection of handcuffs, straps, blindfolds, gags and masks an invitation to play games of sexual slavery, and strides across my office to close the door where, looking back to flash me a lascivious smirk, she locks it with a blatant click.

Glancing down between my legs, I see that Kinky has finished her cleanup duties and, smiling with angelic innocence, is playing with my satiated penis as happily as a little girl with a new doll. Meanwhile, the blonde's doing a strip tease for me, shucking off her office outfit piece by piece and removing items from her briefcase to redress herself as a bondage Domme. For the moment, both ladies seem to be engrossed in enacting their own dream worlds, so, myself being temporarily sunk into post coital depression, I begin feeling upset by the way reality versus fantasy can mislead us. I know I must complete my evaluation on a professional level and wonder if this hot little number between my legs, who's just given me such a satisfactory sample of her services under my desk will continue to perform up to our full networking specifications or merely tease me with tenders that I'll later discover are bogus bids. Contractor versus government is a dog-eat-pussy struggle full of deceit, so what is she really after? Sure, I know it was incredible just now in my office, but I wonder if it will work out during the rigors of field testing.

Just then I notice again how Kinky is playing with me. Those doubts infiltrating my mind are obliterated in a second by a rush of sensations as my attention returns between my thighs to feeling the wet succulence of Kinky's lips wrapped around my cock, which is now stiffening for a second coming yet simultaneously aching to stop. In front of me that blonde has finished gearing up and poses provocatively, pushing her pelvis forwards with a tantalizing bump and grind. Under my desk, Kinky is fellating me ferociously, first flurrying carnal kisses full of humid heat up and down my shaft's length, next plunging my prick deep into the welcoming warmth of her wet oral embrace, then helixing her head around and up, back around and down while simultaneously sucking in syncopated rhythm as she keeps me just on the razor edge between an agony of yearning and an ecstasy of ejaculation in a virtuoso display of awareness that she can hold my cock captive to her oral attentions as long as she likes now that the pressure in my gonads has been lowered by that recent release.

Suddenly, I can't stand it any more as my cock ignites again! Reaching down and placing my palms on Kinky's smooth cheeks, plunging my fingers deep into her ebony hair now curly and damp from the sweat of her labors in the vineyards of love so that my fingertips curve around and grip the back of her skull, I pull her head forwards as far as I can and flex my buttocks so that my cock thrusts up into her and drops back again and again, repeatedly, fucking her face in short, quick strokes. Now my breath is coming in huffs and puffs like when I'm doing wind sprints, and the blonde ceases her gyrations to watch me curiously.

I don't really care what that blonde baggage thinks, but I am concerned with how Kinky is taking it. Am I fucking her too furiously? She was begging for this oral assault, wasn't she? Ignoring the blonde's suspicion completely, I lean back so that I can look down into Kinky's upturned eyes and gauge her sentiment. To my relief, I find in her expression a zesty mixture of devotion, passion, and outright lust. She's way into this and urging me to fuck her face deeper and harder until I cum right down her throat! "O. K. ," I shout enthusiastically, "Let's go for it.!" The blonde is taken aback with amazement, but Kinky tilts her head backwards cooperatively while I hunch forwards in my chair, getting longer strokes to go deeper into her mouth at this angle. With loud moans, I begin wildly trying to exhaust myself in a frantic motion of simplistic back and forth momentum while Kinky is really working with me, sucking hard so that her cheeks squeeze in to give me more frictional pleasure. I'm so near now, right there with just a bit more effort. The blonde can't hear Kinky's sucking and slurping as she's doing her best to deep throat me because I'm grunting and groaning so loudly with the effort of a fantastically fine facial fuck, but the angle's still not quite right.

I spread eagle my hands out to the very edge of my desk, knocking the blonde's briefcase onto the floor, and kick my chair backwards so my legs are stretched wide apart, and I'm standing on my tippy toes. Now my cock has a straight shot, and I lunge forwards and down into Kinky's throat, my forward momentum forcing her glottis to comply. I begin to feel another rush of hot fluids forcing its way up the shaft in a catastrophically copious climax, and hear myself screaming joyfully, "This is all for you, Kinky!" as my firm column of muscle is now buried deep, gushing forth fluids, loosing the lightness it felt only seconds before while tension is released along with my spurting sperm in an even better orgasm than my first one.

"Jim, what the hell are you doing?" Shouts the blonde, as she stoops to pick up her spurned briefcase and toys. "I've never met a guy before with a fetish for furniture fucking. " She sobs with frustration. "How can you just ignore me and cum in your desk drawer?" The blonde rushes across the office, unlocks the door, and vanishes down the corridor, leaving a stupendous slam behind her. "Office politics," I sigh to myself. "I'll be hearing gossip about this around the water cooler for months to come. "