Undiamonded Queen

She came up the walk from the parking lot in her stately way every morning at about the same time, on her way to work downtown. She was fifty-seven; a bit stout, but not ill-adjusted to it; and she was a secretary, as he was. Her path took her by his door, that's all, and he watched her go by.

The man chatted with her most days-- the weather, something-- and she couldn't help noticing the gleam in his regard. Incredible as it seemed, something in his eye said he was actually interested! She thought back over the times he'd spoken, once the thought occurred to her. He really did seem to want something, sexually.

"I'll show him!" she thought. "Next time if he does it, I'll cut it off quick." That lecher! Gabby was a married woman!

The next day, he was there, casually smoking and smiling on her. "It's true, look at him!" she frowned.

On the other hand, it had been some years since any man had shown much interest. "I'm kinda dumpy and frowsty," she reflected. "And he's hardly even fifty, I bet. Just a puppy." She smiled back and took his

good morning

soul deep, savoring it. "He does want me, though," she exulted, and despite her resolve, she smiled more welcomingly.

She was certainly mature enough to handle this sort of thing-- out of practice, maybe, but she knew how to shut them down.

"D'you have a moment to have some coffee with me this morning?"

"What?" He'd spoken, but she'd been thinking.

"Please, if you have a moment. I have coffee and we could talk a little."

"I have to go to work, there's no time!" she said. "But thank you."

"Come a little earlier. We can make the time if we like. I'm Jeremy Hawkins, but they call me Jay."

"Gabby Laforce; Gabrielle."

"How do you do? We've spoken most mornings, but it's nice to have your name."

"I may come earlier. We can take ten minutes for coffee."

What am I doing?

she wondered.

"Splendid!" He was very casual. "I'd like that. Tomorrow, then, Gabby?"

"All right. Tomorrow; we'll try it."

"Wonderful." They bid each other farewell and she was conscious of his eyes on her from behind as she walked off. He was watching, all right. Her hips swayed nicely in the long skirts she always wore. "Over-upholstered a little," he told himself, "but not bad."

"That wasn't how it was supposed to go," she chided herself. She'd have to let him know tomorrow that she was married. "I'm too old to be playing games, leading men on." Gabby was firm with herself.

But she allowed him fifteen minutes the following day, coming quite soon to her parking spot. And there he was! He was coming down to meet her. "What a flattering thing," she remarked to herself.

"Gabby! Do you have a minute for me today?"

"I-- I'm married, Jay," she said, rather more abruptly than she'd intended.

"Well, I'd imagined that you might have been," he said cozily. "But don't you ever

have a moment?"

That was a double meaning! Gabby eyed him. He had a puckish expression; he had meant the double meaning, almost certainly, she thought. "Listen, Jay--"

"I'm married, too, you know; no shame in that. Come on inside."

"For coffee?"

"To talk a little in the mornings, and for coffee."

"Just so you realize I'm a married woman," she said, but it didn't sound forceful, even to her own ears. She took his arm when he offered it, allowing herself to be helped from the car. He laid his hand, a big warm one, on hers, so she held his arm all the way to the church door, where he let her precede him. She could smell coffee. The office door was open. The warm lamplight spilled into the corridor with the coffee smell.

She turned to face him, and he stepped in a little too close.

They moved to his office, where a red gingham tablecloth had been spread and small gnocchi-sized little cinnamon donuts sat on a little yellow platter. Delft-blue china held milk and sugar; a basil plant in a black crack-glazed pot radiated its rich green leaves over the whole. Primary colors, white and black, and all the crockery nicely fat and round: a charming table.

He played host and explained how he'd made the fritters with a fry-bread recipe. He had to remind her, gently, that her hour had come around. It had been, in fact, a lovely little stolen time together. She requested a return for the next day, and he beamed his satisfaction to have pleased her.

Twenty minutes early, she pulled in and felt gratified to see him again, waiting and puffing his pipe. "Good morning, Jay!"

"Gabby! How's my kitten?"

"Just fine!" The reference was to a portion of their conversation the day before. She felt comfortable already with the faintly spicy arrangement. She was not really being naughty, but she was thinking naughty thoughts. It was delightful.

He had small muffins and butter this time. When she was finally due to leave, he gave her a hug. She lingered in it; it felt nice and she liked the pipe-tobacco male smell of him. His fingers played over the swell of her buns, but she excused it, let him feel them, and snuggled her chin into the hollow of his neck.

When he palmed her bottom firmly, she broke the embrace. But she smiled at him. It was for forgiveness on the account of his impertinent hands, but he took it as a signal to continue, and kissed her. During the kiss he held her buns again.

Gabby wasn't sure why she let him have the kiss. When they broke it, she was going to speak, but he asked her not to.

"Please, Gabby, let me hope. Monday?"

"I can't--"

"Tuesday, then? Please."

"No, Monday's all right. I just can't--"

"Don't say it. I'm sorry."

"No, don't worry, but I can't let this go very far; do you understand?"

"I'll be good. One more kiss then?"

"My God! Come here!" She opened her arms and kissed him again. She pulled herself against him and sent her tongue into his mouth; he was hard! He was feeling the side of her breast, too. She lay a hand atop his, and he cupped it and thumbed across the nipple through the blouse and bra.

"Whoo!" she said. It was warm, all at once.

"Monday," he said firmly, and she nodded. He watched her walk away again. She was unsure what she was going to do when Monday came.

She had several changes of plan about it all weekend, now thinking a little playful grope, now thinking just a chaste kiss, now thinking a firm insistence on proper behavior. These were choices it was such a treat to have to make! How long had it been?

Monday saw her almost a half hour early. He stepped out onto the walkway only after she'd already gotten out of her car, but he was there, and they greeted one another warmly. As soon as they got the door closed they embraced ardently in the corridor. She didn't want to stop. Jay handled both breasts sweetly; he explored her buns with his big hands. She could feel that he was quite randy. She kept kissing, she squeezed his glutes and dueled with his tongue.

"Gabby, I want to lick you! Come in, give it to me, I want it!"

"No sex."

"Just let me lick!"

She nodded and smiled bashfully. He kissed her again. She took his hand from her breast and pulled him into the office. He knelt before her and lifted her long soft skirts, while she reached in and pulled her underwear down.

"Sit on the desk and just lean back, Gabby kitten."

"Yes. Oh, kiss! Kiss it. Oh, Jay."

He was thorough and very insistent. Her juice covered his face, familiar sensations exploded in Gabby's pussy; she didn't exactly come, but it was very sweet.

"Up on your knees, let me lick it from behind," he said, and she made the turn.

He licked her anus, too; everything! He brought his fingers into play and fucked his tongue into her. She was sopping. She came a third time before she began to even question what was going on. The clock said there were fifteen more minutes left.

"Let me suck you, Jay," she gasped. He sat on the edge of the desk and she dropped to the floor.

"Lick my balls, kitten. Lick my cock." Her mouth moved in. "Oh, yes. Yes, now open your mouth and suck!"

So Gabby found herself sucking off a relative stranger on her way to work, kneeling with her pantyhose around her ankles on a hardwood office floor. She decided to show the younger man how cock got sucked when she was young. Gabby had been a specialist during high school when this man was still about six years old. She'd sucked whole beach parties back then. He didn't realize his cock was throbbing in the talented mouth of a master of the art.

Still tingling, she explored Jay's cock. Her eyes were closed and his balls resting in her palm as she sent her tongue to trace its borders and dimension. A good cock, an interesting mass of cords and gristle, heavy balls and a hot shaft, designed for cunt.

But it was responding to her tongue and lips, too; they all did. She worked his cockhead into her throat and brought her lips deeply onto the hairy base of it, pushing against the bone beneath with pressure, then moving them in a kiss. A startled Jay yawped in astonishment and his hips twinged, his balls lifted. Licking, she retreated, lips tight on him, to the end. She met his eyes and listened to him babble delightedly.

"Just the beginning, sweetheart," she bragged. Fourteen minutes, the clock said. She paced herself perfectly to his responses, and held him enthralled but just barely unable to come. With fiendish inventiveness she throated, kissed, licked and sucked, and also displayed an astounding array of techniques with her fingers. Jay trembled on the brink for an eternity.

"Now you're going to come, Jay. Come right in my mouth," she said. She triggered him everywhere all at once, and come he did! A brilliant suck. She was proud of it. They had two minutes to get dressed and kiss goodbye, and he tasted wonderful, and he couldn't possibly mean all those nice things he was saying.

I deserved that,

she told herself, rising to put her pantyhose back together. Jay was still complimenting her.

"You deserved that, baby," she told him, patting his cheek. "You did me so nicely! But now I have to go, so get dressed, see me off."

"Right! Thank you! Can I count on you Monday?"