Okay, this next one I almost wasn't going to put in my journal. I started writing about it for an earlier entry, then changed my mind. There are a few reasons why I'm hesitant to write about this blow job. One is that I still work with the woman in question. Yeah, I know I keep things anonymous, use other names and all. But it still seems a little risky writing about someone see every day. Especially since she's married. Which is another reason I'm not sure I should be writing this.
But the real reason isn't either of those. There's another woman I still work with who's sucked my cock, and I'll probably write about her. I've already written about a couple of married women who've sucked my cock, and they aren't the only ones. It has more to do with me than her. I'm not particularly proud of myself for this one, and not because she's married or works with me.
Angie is, and has always been, a first class bitch. Everyone in the office knows it and they avoid her whenever possible. She has a condescending way of talking to people and she's petty and spiteful. Part of her job involves processing expense reports, and I can't tell you how many people have had screaming fights with her because she wouldn't approve legitimate expenses. The worst part is everyone knows she does it not out of a sense of duty, but simply to exercise a little petty tyranny over her co-workers.
Angie used to process time cards for payroll, where she had a reputation for arbitrarily deciding that some peoples' overtime was not approved. People who worked those hours and expected to be paid for them were more than a little peeved with her. Again, she had no real reason to do something like that. It was all very small-minded and spiteful. People with whom she got along, and I was a member of this small group, never had these problems with her.
Just because it wasn't happening to me didn't mean I didn't care. I really didn't like the woman. Of course, I was always polite and courteous to her, but that's the way I am with everyone. But it certainly didn't mean that I liked her. I didn't.
So how did I wind up getting my cock sucked by this woman if I truly didn't like her? Well, that's part of what makes this embarrassing for me. I got Angie to suck my cock for sadistic reasons, almost as a form of revenge for the way she treated all of the other people we work with. And I liked it. If you've ever stuffed your cock into the mouth of a woman you didn't like, then you'll understand. If you've gotten a mean-spirited, spiteful bitch to humble herself on her knees, to look up at you with her lips around your shaft and to taste your load on her tongue, you'll understand. I'm embarrassed to admit how much I enjoyed the primal, savage satisfaction I got from it.
Angie was maybe five-three or five-four and very thin with almost no hips or ass at all. What she lacked in curves on the bottom though, she more than made up for on top. I don't think I've ever seen a woman as thin as Angie with breasts so large. Not real ones anyway. She had light brown hair cut short in an almost boyish style. Her neck was long and rather slender. She had high cheekbones, bright blue eyes, a delicate nose and a small, thin-lipped mouth. She had a very pretty, if seldom seen smile. She usually wore slacks or a long dress, which was probably best because it hid how bony her legs were. She also tried to hide how large her breasts were by wearing oversized blouses, but there's no way a woman so slightly built could conceal those double D's.
Angie was married and had a couple of kids. Judging by the pictures on her desk, they were at least grammar school age, so Angie, who was in her early thirties, must have had them fairly young. I've noticed that some women who marry and have families when they're that young get a bit restless when they get to Angie's age. Especially ones who married their high school or college sweethearts. Maybe they feel like they missed out on dating and partying or something, but I don't think that's it. It's more likely that husbands and wives can grow apart easily, especially when what they had in common, like their high school or college circle of friends, is taken out of the picture.
I don't know if Angie was a nasty bitch when her husband married her or if it's his fault she became that way. Either way, by the time I met her, she was clearly not a happy person at work, and I just couldn't imagine things were much better at home. So it's really not all that surprising that she was nice to a single, good looking young guy like myself. Especially since I was one of the few people in the place who was civil to her.
Eye contact, I've always said, is one of the most effective ways of flirting. If you meet a woman's gaze for a moment and then look away, it means nothing. But if you keep looking into each others eyes past the point where you both know you should have looked away, pulses start to speed up. Angie had crystal blue eyes and for many people, they must have seemed like daggers. When she turned them on me though, I always looked steadily back into them. I didn't really like Angie, but it was clear that she liked me. Since she was obviously a person who made life difficult for those she didn't like, I used these moments to stay on her good side. Yeah, that's a little manipulative, but it's nothing compared to what she dished out.
Anyway, my point was that it was obvious she liked me by the way she maintained eye contact with me and was nice to me, in stark contrast to the way she treated others. But even after I started this little collection of mine, I never really seriously considered her. What got me to thinking about her was a conversation I overheard.
I had taken a bunch of work into one of the empty private offices to get away from the distractions of coworkers and telephones. For most part, I was just sitting there reading through some files. I guess I was being rather quiet and no one realized I was in there. Two guys who's voices I recognized started complaining in hushed tones about "that smelly cunt" and the "expense report nazi." Naturally, I knew exactly whom they were talking about.
"Man, I'd love to put it up her ass until she cried," said the first guy.
"Yeah, then pull it out and shove it straight in her mouth!" said the second.
"Exactly. Fucking bitch!"
"Not that she'd ever suck a dick, that frigid cunt," the second guy said.
"Are you kidding?" asked the second. "You never heard about her and Frank? One of the cleaning guys caught her knobbing him in his car in the parking lot one night. I can't believe you never heard about that." The first guy said something, but I couldn't hear what it was. "Yeah, and a couple people said they saw the two of them coming out of the file room together, you know, after hours. More than once."
I was suddenly paying very close attention. I had never heard any of this. The only guy named Frank I could think of had left the company several months ago. I didn't really know him, but I knew who he was. I found myself getting turned on thinking about Angie blowing him in his car and maybe even in the file room.
Angie was such a bitch that even a guy as obsessed with blow jobs as me never really thought of her that way. All of a sudden, I couldn't get the thought of her sucking cock out of my mind. At that moment I made a conscious decision to try to get Angie to suck me off. It wound up taking a few months, but the moment I started trying was when I overheard that conversation.
I started slowly, making excuses to go through Angie's area a little more often, going to lunch at the same time, etc. It gave me a few extra opportunities to smile and say hi to her. And make eye contact, of course. I also knew she often spent large chunks of time in the afternoons alone in the file room, so I'd pull a couple files out in the morning and bring them back when she was in there. The relative isolation of the file room, combined with the thoughts that Angie may have already sucked some cock in there, gave me a little charge each time I went in.
Angie usually said hi and gave me a smile when I saw her in the file room. She must have noticed that I was suddenly popping in three or four times a week when she was working in there. On occasion we'd actually have conversations. They weren't very flirtatious or even very interesting. But we kept our eyes locked on each other the entire time. It was almost like a staring contest and neither one of us would look away. I'd leave with a tingling in my loins after those little chats, despite the fact that nothing remotely sexy was said.
I have to say, I think she must have been feeling it too. Early on, those conversations were rare. Angie would look up, say hi and then go back to her work. As things progressed, we wound up talking more often and for longer stretches each time. And I noticed that she was frequently the one to instigate our exchanges. It was almost like she thought of some topic or question in advance. Who knows? Maybe she did.
One time when I encountered Angie in there, she was kneeling on the floor to get stuff out of the bottom drawer of a file cabinet. As I've mentioned many times before, and probably will mention many more times again, the sight of a woman on her knees really gets my blood pumping. Pumping right into my cock usually.
So there I am talking to this woman who's on her knees and making unflinching eye contact with me in a room where she probably gave another man head. I could feel my cock start to swell in my pants as I concentrated on Angie's eyes. As my member expanded, it caught at an awkward angle in the leg of my pants. I wanted so badly to reach down and tug it into a more comfortable position and let it continue to grow unhindered. But instead I kept my eyes locked on Angie's, hoping her eyes didn't stray from mine to what was going on in my pants.
I don't know if it was just the discomfort of my constrained erection, but that conversation seemed to last much longer than usual. I couldn't even tell you what we were talking about either. On the one hand, I was totally distracted by the discomfort of my cock getting pinned down by my pants. On the other, I kept looking at and thinking about Angie on her knees, which only made the problem of my stifled erection worse. All things considered, I thought I handled it quite well and Angie never gave any indication that she saw any of the extracurricular stuff going on below my belt.
