Fire Drill
Foreword: This is a short story, based on, and expanded from one I wrote for an online magazine. I've kept it purposely brief to inspire your imagination. I hope you enjoy. My thanks to
grumpyg
for his suggestions and edits.
I guess you could say that at school I was never a star student, but I'd taken quite an interest in business studies. In the 1960s it would have been called 'commerce' or involved shorthand and typing skills, but time and technology have moved on. I was never interested in sports, which probably turned mom's dinners into a gradual widening of my waistline. I never grew much taller, either - hence my further dislike of being in the sports changing rooms. I got teased by the other girls in the showers - short and podgy. The only part of me that boys seemed to like were my tits, my boobs, bazookas, call them what you like, and my boobs were going to become very useful.
I left school at 16 and, fortunately for me, landed straight in to work as an office junior with a small local company. I had dad to thank through one of his golfing friends. I worked hard and stopped being the office gofer... you know, 'go for this, go for that'.
By time I was in my mid-twenties, a combination of other girls my age leaving and I suppose being recognised as being good at the job, I rose through the office to a senior level, but then both my parents had fallen ill. I had put my career and my social life on hold to nurse them, returned to work and now found myself stuck as the bridesmaid, never the bride, both in a work sense and outside. Things were about to change.
This is when he entered my life, a bolt out of the blue, which reignited my drive and my desires.
I was embarrassed at the interview, embarrassed on his first day at the water fountain, embarrassed at almost every meeting we attended together. What a ridiculous situation. I'm the office manager. I'm 10 years older than him. Oh, be honest, closer to 30! But those eyes, those deep blue eyes, that smile, the lips I just want to sink my teeth into. The broad shoulders, the chest straining on his shirt, those strong hairy arms. Oh my god, get a grip of yourself! Concentrate, stop fantasizing over him.
I was so unprofessional at his interview. I had flirted, not so outrageously that the others on the panel noticed, but I did, and he had responded. It had been a long while since that had happened to me but I wasn't dreaming. He only leaned in to me when answering questions, he stared at me when someone else asked a question. When he licked his lips or groomed his goatee, he glanced at me.
I realised too late I played footsie with myself for the majority of the interview, stroking my nylon covered feet. Subconsciously crossing and uncrossing my legs nervously. Running my fingers through my hair like a stupid teenager. He was going to be hired, he had the best resume. But did he think the attraction I felt for him got him the job? Stupid woman, stupid, stupid old woman!
***
My heart literally skipped a beat when he spoke to me on his first day, at the water fountain. I hadn't realised he was there. My mind was deeply in the monthly reports when suddenly his aftershave and body heat leaned over me and a deep, calm, voice said,
"Thank you for the opportunity."
I swooned! I was speechless, I was that short, fat, ugly 18 year old again, amazed that this 'jock' was acknowledging me. I have no idea what I replied, I'm not sure I said anything coherent. He smiled, looked me up and down. I stood frozen, open mouthed, willing him to kiss me. He had already undressed me with his eyes. He leaned in, raised his hand and flicked my blouse.
"I think you may have had a wardrobe malfunction," he grinned mischievously. I looked down and immediately went as red as my blouse, a third button was undone; I was showing cleavage, a lot of cleavage and an awful lot of lace from my bra. He was already walking off but glanced back and winked. I wasn't dreaming; it was true, there was an attraction! I just needed a way of finding a reason to be alone with him.
Meetings came and went over the next few weeks, my normal cool professional demeanor had been replaced by a dyed blond air-head. I couldn't focus during meetings; I just stared at him, imagining us together, naked, as one, his touch, his kiss, his strong body on top of me, his fullness inside me. I imagined doing things with him, to him, I had never imagined before!
That day's meeting had been the same until the CEO announced he wasn't going to be a fire marshal any longer, he was too busy! Yeh right! look at your in-tray compared to mine I thought. Then it hit me, I had to find a replacement. I tingled with excitement.
I had sent the email as soon as the meeting finished.
'I have nominated you as the new fire marshal. If you accept, we will do a fire drill today and you can give me your feedback.'
The reply had been swift.
'No problem, we will need to liaise regularly. Can I suggest 'water fountain' meetings daily?'
I knew exactly what I was going to do, and where I was going to be. If he was on the same wavelength then he would be there too.
I finished the report and emailed him immediately,
'Fire drill in 15 minutes, are you prepared?'
The reply sent my pulse racing,
'Yes, bring a fire blanket, you might need it!'
I strode confidently out of the office, which took as much composure as I could muster, in 3 inch heels - a fashion accessory I hadn't worn for 20 years and had re-started after he had arrived.
I stared at myself in the mirror of the restroom, giving myself a pep talk whilst checking my make-up, adding perfume to my cleavage and brushing myself down.
'You can do this' I whispered to myself and fumbled for the fire alarm key in my bag.
The walk to the office entrance seemed to take forever. My hand shook as I pushed the key into the lock and, with a sense of anticipation and nervousness, I turned the key. The alarm screeched and I waited at the door as the office staff filed out. There was a hush, besides the wail of the alarm, after the office had emptied. I had 5 minutes to see if I was right about him.
Quickly I walked back through the office, to the water fountain, unbuttoning a 3rd button on my blouse as I hurried through the corridors. He was there, taking a drink from a paper cup. My heart skipped immediately.
"What took you so long?" he asked. Again I was speechless. I smiled nervously.
"Come here," he drooled, beckoning me with his finger. I sauntered over as sexily as I could and stood next to him, looking up into his handsome face.
"Kiss me," he demanded. I didn't need to be asked twice.
The kiss was amazing, warm, slow, gentle and passionate.
"I see you have a wardrobe malfunction again," he teased, as he traced a finger down my chest.
"We don't have long," I replied, aware that time was going too quickly.
"What do you suggest?" was his teasing answer.
I bit my lip. I wanted to suggest so many things but knew time was against us. I unbuttoned a fourth button on my blouse and uncupped my breasts from my black satin and lace bra. I stood holding my breath hoping my ample breasts had the desired effect and I hadn't made my young stud sick to his core. He stared wide eyed at the flesh presented to him and moved his hands to stroke them softly, gently sending ripples of electricity through me. He brushed my already aroused nipples with the back of his fingers and I stifled a gasp of pleasure as I felt them harden even more. He looked down at me and smiled, before leaning in to tease them with his lips and teeth.
I felt a sudden, very pleasing ripple of pleasure rush through me, causing goosebumps along my arms.
"I'll enjoy these when we have more time," he said, quietly, barely audible over the screech of the high pitched alarm, running thumbs up and over supple but erect nipples, squeezing them against the fingers above them, forcing me to fumble for and hold the door frame behind me. My knees went weak as arousal washed over me in a way I had forgotten.
"Give me your knickers," he requested in a calm inviting way, a look of pure desire etched over his young handsome face. I ignored the request. My breathing, already erratic, went hypersonic. I nervously released my hands from the door frame and began to hitch my skirt up my thighs, stopping at the top of my nylon hold ups.
"Sexy," he growled and released my tortured nipples, to take the folds of skirt and raise them forcefully over my hips.
He eyed me up and down in the way that he usually did, sending shivers through me. I froze, unable to move as he traced a finger along the smooth nylon fabric, up one thigh and down the other, the sudden change in sensation when his finger left the fabric and touched my bare skin. I felt the coolness of the office aircon catch the increasing dampness in the crotch of my knickers.
Having teased me so for a minute or two his strong hands then cradled my hips, curling forefingers from behind then inside the elastic and lace waistband of my knickers. I waited to be exposed, I waited to explode. Previous lovers, and there had been a few, hadn't even come close to the sexual nirvana I felt now.
His fingers next then traced a fire around my waist until they met under my belly button. His hands moved downwards, one hand slipping inside my knickers, over my oh so natural mound and a warm long digit parted my wet lips and slid deep inside me, curling round and rubbing me from inside as the palm of his hand ground into my already blossoming clit.
Instinctively I clasped a hand over my mouth. I was going to scream and could do nothing to stop it. I shook all over and his hand started to take the weight of my body as my legs buckled, a vicious but beautiful circle that increased the intensity of the orgasm more. I grunted and shook as wave after wave of sexual pleasure poured over me and over his hand. If I had been even half conscious of what was happening I would have died of shame; multiple, squirting orgasms - and he had barely touched me. Months, even years maybe, of sexual tension were released. My knickers were soaked, my bushy triangle now glistening with orgasm, my hold ups lathered in sexual fluid. I would've stayed there in that moment forever, but finally his eyes left me and he looked down the corridor and his expression changed somehow from desire to surprise. No, scrub that: it was a mix of surprise and fear.
"Quick! In there," he said, pushing me into the vacant office. I heard muffled voices. Someone was speaking, but to whom I couldn't tell over the alarm. I heard our CEO confirm that the fire drill was a success. 'Cheeky, confident bugger,' I thought, and yes, he had seen me but I had just gone to scribble down some notes he needed. I got control of my senses and realised I needed to dress. I quickly adjusted my attire, removed the sodden satin from between my legs and wrote a note to cover his story.
I slipped the very damp pair of knickers into my young man's pocket and I kissed him urgently and bit his lip. I also more obviously handed over the note, as I saw the boss walking back through the corridor. It read; - 'Meal at mine 7.30 and bring a toothbrush'. It had my address on the back. He looked at the note and smiled.
"Don't tell anyone," I said. He nodded in agreement.
"And thank you for the idiot guide Maggie," he replied, with a flourish, waving the note.
