The internet is a wonderful thing. It allows you to meet people that never would have crossed your path. Tonight that meant Sandy. At least that was the name she gave me and I certainly had no intention of delving deeper into her real life. All I was interested in was tonight.
We had met in a chat room about 3 months previously. We had gotten to know each other in the usual way. We had exchanged names, then pictures, had wild cyber sex and shared sexual fantasies. Then came bits and pieces of personal information. She was a happily married mother of two adorable looking kids and had a pretty nice, if rather boring, guy for a husband. She was intensely bi-curious. She was afraid to have an affair with someone she knew, for obvious reasons. She was also afraid to just pick up some stranger. Ggain, the reasons were glaringly obvious. She had reached the point where online fantasies were not satisfying her cravings anymore.
I was as open with her as I possibly could be. I told her the truth, I was single and had been actively bisexual for a long time. I sent her my genuine pictures and told her what my actual preferences are when having female/female sex. We grew closer, and finally took the step of connecting with each other on the phone. Since she was the one with the most to lose, the first time we talked, I called her at a phone booth she had selected. It was a just brief conversation, designed only to insure we were both females.
She suggested we meet for a mutual look-over at a bar near her office where she sometimes stopped for a drink after work. If we both liked what we saw, we could adjourn to her office, which had its own discreet entrance. If not, we could go our separate ways. I did have to insist that we meet in the evening.
I arrived first that evening. I worried that I didn't make the greatest impression when this tall, slender blonde slipped in the entrance and saw me. Yes, I have the green eyes, red hair and fair complexion of my Irish roots. Faint freckles still dot my face, trying to give the lie to my age. I'm skinny, fairly flat-chested and was balancing the beer bottle in one hand with a cigarette in the other.
Sandy was just about as nervous as a woman could be. She was dressed for work, anyway, what I assume a successful woman accountant would wear, a Navy blue skirt and a blazer over a white blouse with a matching pair of heels. She sat down, crossed and uncrossed her attractive legs and bummed a cigarette from me. A mistake, as it turned out. One puff and she was choking.
For a moment I thought that was the end, that sheer embarrassment was going to drive her from the room. I plucked the cigarette from her fingers and pushed her drink to her. She gulped it and nearly choked again. Under the table I caught her hand in mine. I smiled, squeezed her hand and launched into a stream of inconsequencel small talk until she regained her poise.
"I'm so sorry," she apologized. "I'm just so, so..."
"Nervous?" I offered. "Me too." She gave me a disbelieving look. "I am," I insisted. "I know we've talked and so forth, but you could have been some slavering maniac under your nice exterior. Obviously you're not." My knee found hers and we rested our clasped hands on them. She kept hold of my hand and my hopes returned.
There was some nervous chat but we both relaxed and began to enjoy ourselves. Our chairs inched closer and so did our legs. My hand began to slowly stroke her knee and then inched up her thigh. Her hand continued to rest on mine at first and then began to explore my own leg. I saw the excitement building in her eyes, a feeling I was sure was matched in my own. We gathered ourselves and our belongings and I discreetly followed her out the door and to the side of her office building.
We locked the door behind us. Sandy had told me there would not be anyone else in the building, but she peeked out into the darkened hallway anyway. The sight of her skirt tightening across her ass as she bent forward made up my mind. It was time to start. I slipped behind her and as she straightened, I put one arm around her waist. My lips went to her ear and my tongue dipped inside it. My other hand pushed the door gently closed before it moved to the swell of her ass and began to work the zipper of her skirt down. It feel in a pool around her feet, leaving her lovely legs and firm ass clad only in her stockings and French cut black lace panties.
Within the few steps I needed to reach her, I had shed my dress. My hand curled around her waist to meet its mate and then they both rose to slide under her bra and cup her breasts. She turned her head to kiss me and leaned back against my body. I toyed with her nipples and sucked on her tongue until she wiggled around to face me. She managed to unfasten my bra and drug it down my arms with shaking fingers as I all but tore hers off. Our panties followed.
We reeled across the floor to a huge, comfortable looking leather executive chair. I pushed her into it and fell on top of her. I hooked her legs over the spreading arms of it and ground myself into her open pussy. She almost screamed when my clit met hers but I managed to smother the cry with my mouth.
