Fringe Benefits

Things were finally getting busy, and quite interesting, for Tom. Aware of some other interest in his work skills, his boss had begun loosening her grip and sending more work his way. She was an insecure manager and indeed intimidated, but she had to admit his work was the best.

It was obvious that people were treating at him differently lately. He'd always been popular with his female coworkers, but since his new duties had come into play there was something else going on. People smiled coyly at him when he walked by; he could see little tete-a-tetes occurring around the office with both people eyeing him; women would stand in the aisles in such a way that he could only pass them by making full body contact. One had gone so far as to decide she just HAD to file something in the bottom drawer just as he approached, bending so far over that her skirt rode up high enough to expose her quite shapely ass.

Yes, he was enjoying his new status.

*****

He was putting the finishing touches on one of his largest projects when the phone rang insistently.

"Hello, this is Tom."

"Tom, it's Joanna. Got a minute?"

He smiled at her name and the sound of her voice. In a sea of beautiful women, she stood out even though her looks were not quite up to the high standard set by the others. That was mostly due to the fact that she didn't fit the mold of a beautiful high-powered woman fighting her way to the top, like so many of the others. Joanna was her own person and flaunted that fact, making her even more appealing. She was also one of the few women not paying any attention to him, not at all. She had a reputation as being cold and aloof, and the other employees called her "The Ice Queen."

"Sure. Wassup?"

"You're a photographer, right?"

"Amateur, yeah. It's a hobby."

"If you're an amateur, you're a gifted one. I've seen some of your stuff and you're pretty good. Anyway, could you take some pictures of me with Charlie, my horse? I'll pay you for your time."

"You sure you want me to do it?"

"Yes, I am. Are you available Saturday? There's this field near the stable that I thought would be a great location."

"Yeah, Saturday is good. We should do it at sunrise or at sunset for the best light."

"Let's do it early. I have to go see my mother that night."

"OK, give me the address. I'll meet you there at six a.m. so we can catch that seven o'clock sunrise." He wrote the address on his blotter.

Photography was more than a hobby for him. It was the only form of visual art he was any good at, and through study and practice his work really was exceptional for someone who didn't do it for a living. He worked mostly outdoors, shooting landscapes and atmospheric scenes, so he had hesitated about having a person in the shots. But this was an opportunity to enhance his skills and spend some time with Joanna away from the office.

*****

He was an early riser anyway, so meeting her that early was no big deal. Early October mornings were a bit chilly in the Maryland countryside near Annapolis, so he showered and dressed in jeans, boots, a long-sleeved shirt, and a light jacket. In the morning twilight he parked next to the stable and grabbed his camera bag and tripod just as she walked out of the building leading Charlie by his bridle.

She was petite, about five-three and maybe 120 pounds, with a year-round tan and a round face framed by light brown hair that flowed to mid back. He estimated that she was a couple of years younger than him, maybe thirty five or so. She played tennis, she ran, she skied, she biked, she rode her horse - she was a tight, muscular little bundle of strength and energy. Not classically beautiful, she was nonetheless attractive enough to turn heads. A quite marked distinction was a streak of grey hair about an inch wide that ran down the left side of her head. She didn't try to dye it or cover it, choosing instead to wear it like a badge of honor. She was her own person, in every way. She was dressed like him for the chilly weather.

"Morning," he called out to her.

"Good morning to you. I hope you didn't mind getting up this early."

"Not at all. Photographers call the times around sunrise and sunset the 'golden hours' because the yellow light is fantastic and makes everything we do look better. This is one of my favorite times to shoot."

They stood and discussed what kind of shots she wanted, and he suggested a few others. They walked to the edge of the field for a better perspective and noticed the high grass was very wet with dew.

"Oh, wow. You're going to get soaked walking around in this," she opined.

"No big deal, that's what washers and dryers are for. You ready to start?" The eastern horizon was already bright orange.

"Yep. Help me up. I'm not using a saddle today." He looped his hands so she could step high enough to mount the beautiful animal, then picked up his equipment and followed her into the field. Dropping his bag and tripod midfield, he immediately began framing and shooting. He could tell by these initial pictures that this was going to be a good session. He considered digital photography to have been one of the most wonderful developments ever because he could see his work immediately and shoot as much as he wanted without worrying about cost.

The fast lenses he owned allowed him to get great shots even in low light, and get some tremendous shots using depth of field. Joanna rode back and forth across the field, sometimes outlined against the trees and sometimes contrasted against the lightening sky. He used various lenses and took distant shots, middle shots, and some consisting only of the horse's head and mane. He took more than a few of only Joanna, trying to capture the peaceful sense that riding brought her. He didn't think she realized how her emotions played across her face, and he wanted to capture that.

He called to her to come in closer, and standing within six feet he took a bunch of close-ups of Joanna and Charlie. She truly loved her horse, and the pictures showed that. She and Charlie were both fabulous models, which made the pictures even better.

Walking around to get the best angles, his jeans had become quite wet from the thighs down and coated with all kinds of plant material. He was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable, and in any case the increasing light was beginning to wash out the colors.

"We're losing our light," he told her, "and I've already taken about 500 pictures. Let's call it quits for the day so I can go home and get into some dry clothes."

"Sounds good," she answered, turning Charlie and heading back to the stable. Tom picked up his equipment and followed her. He dumped his stuff in the car while she returned Charlie to his stall.

Walking back towards him, Joanna could see how wet his clothes had become. "Oh man, you're soaked. Let's go in and get you warmed up before you go." He welcomed that idea, and still needed his morning coffee. They walked together into the ranch house.

She first went into the kitchen to get a pot of coffee going, then turned to look at him.

"Tom, you're really wet. You want to dry those here?"

"Nah, I'm okay. Just some coffee would be nice."

"No, I insist. Like my mother says, 'You'll catch your death.' Come with me." He followed her into the laundry room behind the kitchen. "OK, give me those wet pants. I'll do a quick wash and dry for you."

He looked around for something to wrap around himself, some towel or something, but didn't see anything. She saw his hesitation.

"Lose the phony modesty. I know all about what's going on with you and the ladies at work, and in any case it's nothing I haven't seen before. Drop them." Before he could answer, she reached for his waist and unbuckled his belt, then unzipped the fly and yanked his jeans down sharply over his hips. "See how easy that was? Take off your boots."

Reaching down, he pulled his boots off, then pushed his jeans down his legs. He was unbalanced and moved a bit carefully.

"Oh, for gawd's sake. Let me help." Joanna dropped to her knees in front of him and pulled each leg of his jeans off as he lifted each foot in turn. Straightening slightly while kneeling, her face was suddenly right at his crotch level, his plaid boxers the only thing between her and his Johnson.

"Oh my," she said quietly. "Someone might get the wrong idea if they walked in right now." She let out a slight giggle.

Becoming serious again, she stared straight at his crotch. Her hands rose to his legs, and she ran them slowly up the sides and backs of his thighs, up under the legs of his boxers to the bottoms of his ass cheeks then back down to his knees. She repeated the movement; he was almost holding his breath.

Her hands moved up his thighs again, but this time they went up the outside of his shorts, eventually reaching the waistband. Hooking her fingers into the elastic, she slowly began pulling his boxers down, moving them over his hips and ass. When they reached his thighs, his rapidly hardening cock leapt out, finally free of its fabric prison, and stuck out through the tails of his shirt like a beacon. His shorts fell to his ankles of their own accord.

The head of his shaft was directly in front of her face and she couldn't - or wouldn't - tear her eyes away from it. She gently touched it with both hands at once and slowly stroked its length. He already felt like he would explode at any moment. She rubbed its length and used one hand to gently fondle his balls.

Closing her eyes, she moved her head forward and took him into her mouth, moving her lips over the head then back to the tip. Taking more of him into her mouth with each stroke, she moved her held back and forth along its length, the light friction of her lips exciting him. He held his shirt tails up with one hand so he could fully appreciate the wondrous scene before him as a low moan escaped her throat.

The pace of her movements increased, her hand following her lips up and down his cock. Soon he could feel his balls beginning their inexorable journey to orgasm, as if they were a pot beginning to boil over. Hr head and hand moved faster and faster.

"Oh man, I'm cumming," he grunted, giving fair warning to her in case she didn't like surprises. She kept up her actions, her head and hand working in unison to bring him to his final release.

Unable to hold back any longer, he put his hand on the back of her head and held it still as he closed his eyes and shot his hot load. She could feel each spasm as his juices filled her mouth, even trickling out one corner and dripping onto her chin. His orgasm finally subsided enough for her to remove him from her mouth and swallow his cum. They were both breathing heavily and took a few minutes without moving to recover. She stood up, and reaching for his head pulled his mouth to hers for a long, deep, kiss.

*****

They spent the rest of the morning together. She had taken him by the hand and led him back into the living room, where standing in the middle of the room she removed his socks, jacket and shirt. He unbuttoned her western-cut shirt and opened it, finding her braless underneath. He marveled at her tautly muscled body, her six pack abs and her narrow waist. Her well developed pecs supported boobs of teacup size, standing proud and upright in their own with a metal stud through each nipple. The lack of tan lines indicated either visits to a tanning salon or regular sessions of nude sunbathing. He ran his hands over her body and leaned forward to briefly tongue her pierced nipples

"Wow," was all he could say. She smiled.

He knelt before her and removed her boots in turn, then reached for her waist to unfasten her jeans. Hooking his thumbs into the waistband, he removed those and her panties in a single movement, guiding them down her fit legs and off her feet before standing back up. She stood before him in naked splendor, her eyes locked on his. The rest of her was just as fit, with her legs meeting at her perfectly shaved pussy. He noticed another stud in her navel. She was a vision.

"There's something I'd like to do for you," he told her. "Turnabout is fair play." Taking her hand, he led her to the couch and sat her on it, kneeling between her legs. He began lightly kissing her neck, gently holding her by the waist. She wrapped her arms around his head and held him against her.

Moving down, he kissed and licked each of her breasts in turn, alternately sucking each one and flicking his tongue over her nipples and the studs in each. She gasped with pleasure. His mouth traced across her muscled abs, tasting her skin that was faintly redolent of floral and citrus. He was surprised, not expecting someone so athletic to be into sweet scents, at that but said nothing.

He eventually found himself at her pussy, but wanted to prolong this for her. He used his lips, tongue and teeth to caress each thigh and across her hips, occasionally flicking his tongue at her clit and eliciting a gasp from her. He moved his head to her inner thigh, using gentle pressure to urge her to part her knees even farther. In one seamless movement, he placed his hands below her thighs, lifting and parting her knees while burying his face straight into her pussy with his tongue between its lips. She moaned loudly and grabbed his head tightly.

"Ohfuckyes... ohfuckyes... ohfuckyes," she cried out. "Ohdamn... thatfeelsgood."

Holy shit, he's better than I thought,

she mused.

He really knows his stuff.

She pulled his head tighter and spread her legs apart as far as she could.

In addition to being a gifted photographer, Tom was likely the finest pussy eater in the region. He truly loved to give women head; it was as intimate a gift as could be given to a woman and was all about the recipient, making her feel as important as she really was. He loved the taste of a woman, the feeling of her juices coating his mouth and face. He had learned from his coworkers that most of their significant others either didn't bother or were so lousy at it that the girls wouldn't let them do it. His skills at it were becoming legendary around the office.

He again used every part of his mouth on Joanna to great effect. His tongue parted her labia and ran the length of her pussy from bottom to top, where he ran the rough top surface of his tongue over her clit. That usually drew another gasp and this time was no exception. Moving down again, he sucked each lip in turn, then moved farther down to insert his tongue into the canal. Now and again he would let his tongue flick at the perineum that separated her pussy from her ass; Joanna was an exceedingly clean person, and in any case he was about the only man who ever did that.

He continued his ministrations, using his tongue to push back the prepuce covering her clit and his lips to suck on the glans. That never failed to elicit a response and she moaned again.

"Ohmygawd, you are the best," she told him.

"Mmmmmppphhh," came his muffled reply from below. The vibration from his voice stimulated her even more.

Maintaining his attention to her clit, he inserted his forefinger into her vagina, turning his hand palm-up and curling the finger to reach that spot in every woman that triggers real pleasure. He knew he had found it when she again gasped and buried her hands in his hair.

"Ohmyfucking... gawdthatsit," she cried out. "Rightthere... rightthere... rightthere... ohyesohyes..." She couldn't believe how good this felt. He was stimulating her to unbelievable levels and she squealed in delight.

Turning a woman on like this turned him on as well, and his cock was hard again despite his recent orgasm. She was surprised when he lifted his mouth from her pussy, but he immediately used his left hand to guide his shaft into her, burying it to its full length at once. She let out a moan that sounded like it came from the deepest part of her. He returned his hand to holding her leg from underneath, forcing her knees back and opening her box as wide as possible. His balls pressed against her ass.

Kneeling in front of her and holding her legs wide, he wasted no time in bringing her the rest of the way home. He immediately began thrusting in and out of her, literally pounding her with each push. She fell into the same rhythm, slightly moving against him with each stroke. In and out he went, moving the full length of his cock in her as his balls slapped against her ass.

"Holy shit, it feels like you're all the way up in my throat," she said breathlessly.

Her breathing became short and rhythmic, and he knew she was getting close to cumming. She even began emitting a low hum, "UnnhUNNHunnhUNNH..." Finally reaching release, she squealed loudly and reached out to pull his body closer as he pushed in one final time and held there, feeling the pulsing of her orgasm around him. She grunted as it washed over her, feeling like she was cumming with every atom of her being. It was the best orgasm she had ever had, bar none, and seemed to last forever. After what seemed like an eternity it subsided.

But he was still inside her and still hard, so he started moving in and out again, more slowly this time.

"Come on stud, you have some more for me?" she asked with a naughty smile. "Oh yeah, bring it home to mama." She grasped his hips and pulled him to her, encouraging his final thrusts.

He was able to maintain far longer since he had already cum once, but between the friction of her dripping pussy and her pure, raw sexiness, he finally felt another orgasm approaching. His movements became almost automatic, pumping in and out like a piston, slamming against her with each thrust. It was finally there, and with one last push he buried its full length in her and held as he shot yet another load into her. She could feel his balls pulsing against her ass and heard him grunt loudly, his head tilted back and his eyes closed tight.

"Yes yes yes, just like that. Give me all of it," she urged. "I want all of you."

*****

They were curled up on the couch, his arm around her and her head resting on his chest. They were still naked.

"Now I know why everyone at work wants to do you," she said. "You're the best lover I've ever had. Probably the best any of them have ever had."

"I'm not that good, but thanks," he replied.

"Take it from me, you're that good. You're different than most guys, more caring and gentle, and you know how to truly make love to a woman."

"Hey, you're pretty damn good yourself."

"We're not talking about me. Most guys just want to shove it in, get it off, and fall asleep, and we girls are left to use our dildos or whatever. You seem to care more about who you're with than you do about yourself."

"Isn't that how it's supposed to be?" he asked.

"Well yeah, but you're the first man I've met who understands that," she said, pulling his face toward her for another long kiss.