I'd been working for the company for a while when the opportunity arose to visit a sister site. After a couple of visits and with increasing reason to be there, I took the chance to spend the occasional day away from my usual place of work, enjoying a change in scenery with a reliable internal network connection.
One of my leads at our sister site was Charles - a guy who had been with the company longer than I and had some great stories to tell of how things used to be.
Charles is tall, with broad shoulders, strong arms and a shaved head. He's about 15 years my senior and the twinkle in his eyes is well hidden most days. We usually get on fine though, and have a lot of business to discuss.
Charles is pretty much definitely not into girls like me. He's smartly dressed, sensible and probably into petite girls with perky tits and sporting hobbies. I'm working with tattoos, crazy hair colours, more weight than I'd like and a world class shoe habit. But something is starting to catch fire here for me nonetheless.
One afternoon he offered me a tour of the server room down in the basement and, being a nerd, I couldn't resist.
As we walk down the stairs he's telling me tales about the company's origins and how things have changed for him over time. We round the corner to a doorway that's security pass enabled and he swipes us in to the room. I'm allowed to be here, but it's still kind of exciting to see somewhere you've only ever been to remotely.
Inside the secure room are row upon row of glass fronted cabinets housing light-blinking servers and PCs. The room is cooled to a pleasant level to keep the hardware running optimally, and it's a welcome change from the failed-air-con warmth upstairs. This room is rarely visited now, so we have time to take a good look around during our tour.
Charles is walking me through the rows and explaining details of which kit relates to which company.
As we round the final bank of cabinets, we're left admiring the cabling on the wall in silence and my mind is starting to wander...
With a break in the conversation, I lick my lips and deliberately catch Charles's eye for a moment too long. I think I can hear a break in his breathing pattern and spot a glimpse of a lingering look close to my neckline.
The tall cabinets give us some security from prying eyes through the glass window of the door, so I'm feeling brave.
I lean back on the wall for a moment and run a hand down the side of my neck slowly whilst maintaining direct eye contact with Charles. Without warning, he pushes me back into the wall, kissing me hard, our tongues working at each other passionately.
We draw back for a moment to catch our breath and look into each other's eyes. No idea what he can see in mine, but in his there seems to be desire. Quite a lot of it. Excellent outcome.
He leans me back against the wall again, lifting my T-shirt to mash my heavy breasts together through the lace of my black bra. The lower temperature and the chemistry we appear to have has stiffened my nipples nicely. My tits are my best asset (if you're into that kind of thing) - 40G and whilst not perky, pretty firm considering.
Charles kisses the side of my neck and works his way up to licking my ear whilst continuing to squeeze. (How did he know that was my sensitive zone?). I am not able to do much other than moan and draw him in further by grabbing his waist, so this I do.
His cock is ready for business according to his profile as he pushes himself against me. It feels promising (if not enormous) and I'm keen to see what it can do.
He unhooks my bra and lifts it so my tits are fully exposed - the shock of the chilled air flowing over them prompts another gasp from me. Lowering the straps over my shoulders and the bra onto the floor, he drops his head and sucks on one of my nipples as I pinch the other one hard. I am not sure where this is going yet, but, man, I'm not that bothered. I love having my titties sucked.
He stops for a moment as he surveys the scene and smiles a crooked grin. I am starting to think that maybe you can't tell what kind of girls men are in to by guessing.
I arch my back, presenting my breasts for more sucking and biting and he's happy to oblige. This time, I'm starting to work on his cock through his trousers and unzip his fly.
His cock springs out into my hand from his boxers (Boxers! Had him down as briefs) and I start to massage it firmly. He doesn't seem to have much in the way of pubic hair, which I like, but I don't have him down as a shaver. Maybe he's just naturally light on hair? Whatever, it works for him (and his balls).
Where are we going with this... fumble or fuck?
So I ask him.
