(I): Hand Relief
It all started with the spatter of my cum across the office computer screen. I was standing next to the desk, my trousers and boxer shorts down round my ankles. Emma, my work colleague, was sat on the swivel chair next to me, her jeans off, her legs encased in cream nylon pantyhose, her hand wrapped around my cock, still wanking it as the last spurts of semen now pattered across the key-board.
"Better?" she asked. I nodded. It was all I could do for the moment.
I didn't know it, but Emma was to be the first of a number of sexual adventures I would have with my work colleagues at the institute over the following few weeks. Whether it was because of my now single status -- I had recently broken off an engagement to a young female solicitor in the city -- or simply luck, I was to find myself in a number of lurid trysts, all with women my senior and all work-related...
My diary for that week had perhaps been a little provocative but surely not precognitive;
"Monday 16th
Why doesn't Emma wear skirts any more? Although she's quite short, she's got good legs and a great arse..."
I never thought I would ask her though. But there I was, doing just that the following Thursday.
"I just haven't felt like it," she answered. "Why? You like looking at my legs?"
"Well, yeah, especially when you wear tights...."
"I'm wearing tights right now."
I could feel the saliva juicing up my mouth. I swallowed.
"You want to see them?"
"Please."
"All right. Lock the door."
I did so. There wasn't much chance of anyone coming in, but you never could tell at the institute and it was always better to be safe than sorry.
By the time I had locked the door, Emma had taken off her jeans and was sitting, cross-legged in cream tights at the computer.
"Ok. I don't want you touching me, but I can wank you off, if you like."
I could only nod. Now beside her, I quickly unzipped and lowered my trousers and dropped my boxers, my cock already standing to hard attention.
She took it in her small hand and lightly squeezed it. I could smell her hair, her perfume, the cigarette she'd recently smoked out in the forecourt but could only stand there, obeying her, not touching her, as she began to wank my cock towards the computer screen. I looked down at her, at her nylon clad thigh, her legs still crossed...
I suppose it took only half a minute. I watched her watching my cock, its purple head exposed-covered-exposed as she began to pick up the pace. Grunting, I exploded, the spurts of white cum splattering across the screen, her hand now pumping me hard as I took hold of the desk to steady myself. I must admit to wanting her mouth on me, to have her sucking me, and me with my hands in her hair as I came....
"Better?" she asked.
She cleaned my cock up with a Kleenex before wiping off the screen and then her fingers. As she did so, I pulled up my boxers and trousers.
"Thank you," I said.
"Don't mention it," she replied, smiling. She pulled her jeans back on, the hiss of the material over nylon had me twitching again but I had work to do and so did she.
"Can I ask you out sometime," I asked.
"I don't think my boy-friend would be very happy about that," she said, sitting down and beginning to type. "But maybe we can organise another hand relief session if you're good..."
(II): Latino MILF
It was a day later, the Friday, when I had my next encounter.
Emma had avoided me in the café that morning so I was feeling a bit pissed off as I stepped out of the elevator on my floor. As I turned, I caught sight of Maria as she disappeared around the corner on her way to her own class room.
I'd always had a thing about this woman. In her 50s, dark skinned, Latino, a mother of three, she had always done a fantastic job at keeping fit.
For one reason or another, probably more because of the sudden burning desire to see Maria's naked breasts, I made my way to her room.
She was already at her desk when I entered, reading glasses on, studying a newspaper. She was wearing a low-cut blouse and I could see that she, like Emma the day before, was wearing jeans.
I'd always fantasised about sex with a married woman and the look she gave me as I entered was enough to get my cock swelling in anticipation. I closed the door behind me without being asked.
"Well, if it isn't the little Casanova," she said, taking off her glasses and laying them down on the paper in front of her.
"What...?"
"Emma told me of your clandestine meeting yesterday in the staff-room," she said as she stood, stepping out from behind the desk. She came towards me, unbuttoning her blouse. "You know, I could have you reported for that," she continued, her breasts, still supported in their double 'D' cups now revealed as she threw off the blouse. "But let's just say, I'll look the other way, just as long as you satisfy my, how should we say?" her hands now unbuttoning her jeans, "my needs."
Five minutes later she was down on her desk and I was standing between her smooth brown thighs, gripping hold of her marvellous arse cheeks, her tits free of their cups, bouncing heavily with each thrust of my cock in her black-haired pussy.
I'm not sure what I'd been expecting... perhaps a more 'elastic' cunt? After three children, I was amazed how tight Maria's pussy was. She gripped me at each pull-back, milking me, her 'needs' clearly stronger than I had imagined. If we hadn't been in the institute I'm sure she would have been screaming out obscenities. As it was, she managed quite well in harsh, grunting whispers;
"Fuck me. Fuck me with that hard fucking prick. Fuck me like the whore I am..."
