Risky Secretary 69

My fists were so tightly balled up that my fingernails were digging into my palms. I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from crying out.

No, I wasn't in pain, yet it's funny how similar the body's reaction to pain and pleasure can be. Both can be torturous.

My heart was racing. My breathing was ragged. Blood was pulsing through my veins, feeding my muscles adrenaline. A guttural groan was trapped in the back of my throat, threatening to escape my quivering lips.

Do you want to know what was wrong with me? I'll tell you. It was the small, pink sex toy inside my pussy. It was vibrating like a fucking earthquake. The stimulation against my clit was unrelenting, and I was on the cusp of a massive orgasm.

Sounds like heaven, right? Wrong. It was torture. I had to suppress all this because my boss was standing at my desk, looming over me.

He had clients that were being difficult, and he needed me to gather all the paperwork we'd spent last week preparing. There were also a few calls I had to make to set up an important meeting, emails that needed to be sent, etc. So, while I sat there at my desk fighting tears and using every ounce of willpower to NOT look like I was about to cum right then and there, he droned on and on with his insipid list of demands.

I could barely hear him. All my mind could focus on was my thundering pussy. I was so wet that my juices were dripping down my thighs. Since my panties were balled up in my purse, I had nothing to keep me from leaving a big wet spot on my chair.

I was afraid Mr. Stone would be able to smell my arousal. I could. It was a strong, musky aroma filled with my pheromones. Luckily for me though, he appeared completely oblivious to the silent agony his assistant was suffering through.

"You get all that?" he asked, his voice gruff with annoyance. No doubt he noticed I was a bit distracted.

I was barely able to answer with, "Mmm Hmm."

He made a huff of disapproval before asking, "When will you have it done?"

I had to gather my wits. Pulling every ounce of resolve I had, I sat up straight and replied, "I'll have the paperwork on your desk by 9:30. I've already gotten in touch with Sharon about your meeting with Phil. She has to get back to me on that. I'll reach out again to nail down a time."

His disapproving frown turned into a surprised smile. With a nod, he said. "Good."

"I'm on top of it, Mr. Stone."

"I see. Thanks, Steph."

He lightly rapped on my desk with his knuckle before walking away towards his office. I watched as he went inside and closed the door behind him. Only then did I let out an exhale of relief.

That was so close.

My eyes fell onto my laptop, which was in front of me on my desk. Looking directly into the camera, I smirked knowingly.

"Are you guys trying to get me caught?" I asked.

A sudden increase in the tremors of my sex toy answered my question, making my cocky grin quickly disappear. Another loud cry had to be suppressed in the back of my throat. I squeezed my thighs together like that would grant me a reprieve.

I put my pointer finger to my lips in a shushing motion. The distressed expression on my face was pleading for mercy. But there was no mercy to be had. My overlords were relentless. I was being punished for mocking them.

I had to put my hand beneath my desk, between my thighs, and hold the vibrator still. That provided a little relief, but it also made things more stimulating. I couldn't help allowing my middle finger to slip between the folds of my lips and slide across my clit.

I knew they could see that. After all, I had a camera down there, watching everything that happened. The pulsations increased, but now that I was somewhat alone, I was able to lean into the sensations. I began rubbing my clit in circular motions, following the beat made by the vibrator.

I nervously looked around to see if anyone was watching. There were other people in the large office area, but luckily they seemed engrossed in their own worlds.

Things started getting intense down below. I was close. I'd been getting edged all morning, and now that I'd joined in on my own torture, it was no longer an option to hold off.

Faster and faster my fingers moved. My breaths were coming out in quiet, ragged huffs as I tried to stifle my moans. I had to lay my head down on my free arm while I jilled myself mercilessly.

Then, I heard my name being called.

"Stephanie?"

"NOOOOOOO!"

I thought frantically.

"Stephanie, you okay?"

I heard footsteps approaching. No, it wasn't Mr. Stone again. This time it was Gloria, the other assistant. I guess she wasn't as busy as I thought.

My orgasm slipped away, literally right through my fingers. I have never wanted to murder someone more than I wanted to murder her right then.

"I'm fine." I said as I lifted my head, trying hard to not look like I felt. "I'm just having some - ya know - issues."

"Ah." she said, thinking I was talking about my period. She didn't have a fucking clue that my issues were a little further south. With an understanding nod, she said, "If you need to go home for the day, you can go."

I shook my head. "I can't. Mr. Stone gave me that whole list of chores to do."

She chuckled. "Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it. You just go home and put a heating pad on your stomach."

"You sure?"

By now my pussy was screaming at me.

"What the hell are you doing, Stephanie?! Get out of here!"

I was half scared I screwed myself with my faux benevolence giving Gloria a chance to recant her generous offer. Luckily for me, she just gave me a nod.

"No worries, dear. I've got it."

I could've kissed this woman. "Thanks, Gloria. You're the best."

As she walked off, I gathered up my things slowly. I was waiting for her to be out of ear shot.

"You guys are so bad!" I said, chastising the laptop camera with a whisper. "You know what, though? Ya'll owe me. You got me all worked up, and now you have to finish me off. Can you do that?"

I giggled, knowing what their answers would be. With a sultry smile, I said, "Good. I'm going offline for a bit to find somewhere we can play. I'll be back, though. Don't you go nowhere."

With that I killed the connection, folded up my laptop, and headed out of the office.

_____________________________

In case you hadn't guessed it yet, here it is. I'm a cam girl. I've been doing it for about 2 years now. I'm insanely popular, I make a lot of money, and my husband (Steve) has no idea what I do.

To answer some of the usual questions, here goes:

No, I was not abused growing up. My daddy didn't touch me. I wasn't raped. I just have this kink inside of me. I love being watched. It turns me on.

No, we haven't fallen on hard times, but admittedly, we do tend to live beyond our means. Our house is in an affluent part of town and was about $10,000 out of our budget. Our cars are only a couple years old. He has a truck, I have a Lexus Coupe.

No, we don't have kids yet. That hasn't happened for us yet. There was a time when we were trying, but now we just figure it will happen when it does. Secretly, I sometimes worry that our inability to have kids is karma for my "hobby".

Yes, I have a "real job". I work part time as a secretary at a real estate firm. The funny thing about my job is, the line between fantasy and reality is nonexistent. My "real job" is a part of the fantasy vixen I created. But I'm getting ahead of myself. More on that later.

No, my husband isn't a bad lover. His dick isn't small. He doesn't have an issue with premature ejaculation. He is perfectly adequate at getting me off, especially with his tongue. The only issue we have is finding time to actually do the do, if you know what I mean.

Steve is a hard worker. He's not college educated, and I think that makes him a little self-conscious. He puts so much pressure on himself to be a "good provider" that I feel like he overdoes things. He works at a trucking company organizing routes and handling the drivers. It's a decent paying job, especially because of the unlimited overtime they allow him to have. He works at least 50 hours every week. Sometimes more.

And finally, yes, I am a slut. More accurately, I'm an exhibitionist. Like I said before, I love being watched. I love being masturbated to. I love being lusted after. And I really love being paid for it.

I didn't fall into this line of work by accident. It was very much intentional. As much as I love Steve, he really isn't into the whole exhibition thing. He's too much in his head to let loose and enjoy the thrill. I found myself needing a safe outlet for this thing inside of me. Camming provided that. I scratch my itch without cheating on my husband (physically at least).

I wasn't always like this. I discovered this side of myself in college. It was an accident; or at least, it was an accident on my part. My boyfriend at the time was a bit of a freak, and he had every intention of sharing me with his friends.

It started with a party. I forget what the occasion was. Might've been a birthday, a holiday, or just a random excuse to drink, smoke and fuck. Do you really need a reason to party in college?

There were a lot of people in the beginning. The music was loud, there were drinking games, some people were grinding on each other. Eventually, it started to dwindle down. By about 2 in the morning, there were just six of us; 2 girls (including me) and four guys (including my boyfriend).

I think it's safe to say none of us were making good decisions that night. Every last one of us was either drunk, high, or horny. I was all three.

So here I was, sitting on the couch and leaning into Doug (my boyfriend). On the other side was another guy that I knew well. His name was Chris.

I wouldn't exactly call Chris a friend. He was a guy that I hung out with often because he was friends with Doug. What's more, Chris had a major crush on me.

You would think natural jealousy would make Doug not want me around Chris, but it was the exact opposite. He'd often leave us alone together, suggest we hang out when he was too busy to, and playfully accuse us of hooking up behind his back. I thought this behavior was odd, but I eventually found out why he did these things.

Anyway, because Doug was always pushing it, I started teasing Chris. Nothing big, just little things. Hug him too long. Tell dirty jokes. Flirt with him a bit. Lightly touch him when it wasn't necessary. It was always innocent, and in good fun. Until that night.

There I was, sitting on the couch and leaning back into Doug, who was leaning back into the arm. This had us sitting sideways. Chris was on the other end. Because of our position, there wasn't enough room for me to stretch out without touching Chris. So, I had my feet laying in his lap, which he didn't have an issue with. And for good reason too.

You see, Chris had a foot fetish. I knew this. I also knew I had cute feet. My pink nail polish and ankle bracelet were like catnip to him. I was drunk and high, so my lowered inhibitions made me extra flirty. I made sure that my bare feet were laying right by the bulge in his crotch.

The six of us had been passing a couple of blunts around for the past hour. Each of us took a couple hits before handing it to the next person in line. While we were doing this, Chris was gently caressing my feet. I pretended not to notice it.

Chris began to work his hands up my calves. It was stealthy at first, then became more blatant. When I didn't protest, he moved up to my knees. When he got to my thighs, I playfully kicked him away.

Eventually, I missed the attention, so my piggies found their way back to his lap. And thus, the cycle continued. It was like a game between the two of us.

I thought we were being inconspicuous. I thought no one noticed what was happening. I was wrong. Everyone noticed; especially Doug, who seemed content on letting his good friend play footsie with his girlfriend.

Doug began massaging my shoulders. It felt good. I was getting a foot massage and a shoulder massage at the same time. It relaxed me a little too much. I started to drift off.

In my haze, when I was most vulnerable, I felt the hands on my shoulders move down to my stomach, beneath my shirt. The hands on my feet finally made it to my thighs without being kicked off. I was being expertly double teamed at my erogenous zones, and my willpower was breaking down.

I groggily looked around the room at everyone else. I expected them to not even be looking at me, but it was the opposite. All eyes were on me, watching me be molested by two men, like it was entertainment.

At first, I was filled with humiliation. I felt like I was no longer a person. My body no longer belonged to me. I was here as a play toy for the group.

That should've had me livid. I should've jumped up and stomped out the room. But I didn't. I was stuck in my seat because that thought wasn't the offense it should've been. A strange wave of desire mixed with the humiliation I was feeling. It was such a turn on to know that everyone in that room wanted me.

It was the other girl that intrigued me, though. Her eyes were completely glazed over with lust. She was biting her bottom lip as she watched me. One of her hands was squeezing her tits over her T-shirt, the other had slipped beneath the waistband of her jeans. I could see her wrist moving rhythmically as she quietly masturbated, right there in front of everyone with no regard to who was around her.

I was ready to cum just from watching her watching me.

When I felt Chris's fingers lightly graze my pussy over my panties, I didn't even think of stopping him. I'd given in to my fate at this point.

But the question was, how far would I allow fate to take me tonight? The line of impropriety had been blurred. Where was it now? Would I be stripped completely naked? Would I be fingered to orgasm? Would I let Doug fuck me in front of everyone?

That thought gave me a shiver.

My shirt started to rise. I looked down at it happening and saw Doug grabbing the hem and slowly pulling upward. My tummy came into view, and then my bra. I lifted my head and looked at Doug questioningly. He had a sly smile on his face.

He simply handed me the blunt and said, "You can keep it."

I understood. If I complied, that was my reward for being a good girl; for graciously entertaining the group. This was my moment of choice to decide how the rest of this night would go.

I took it from him and put it to my lips.

I don't know if there was an unspoken signal between them or what. All I know was that Chris was no longer trying to be covert. One of his hands gently pushed my knees apart, while the fingers on his other had pulled my panties to the side.

I watched him slip two of them inside of me. I watched his thumb playing with my clit. Then I watched him finger-fuck my wet pussy.

Doug had taken this opportunity to work his magic too. My shirt was above my tits, my bra beneath them. My nipples, along with my right nipple ring, were exposed to the group. And my boyfriend was pinching and twisting my nipples, leaving them hard enough to poke an eye out.

I took another ill-advised hit of the blunt. I was so far gone that when Chris reached both hands up my skirt and grabbed my panties at the band, I lifted my hips and let him slide them down my legs.

I heard my audience talking about me in gasped whispers.

"Oh shit."

"Are you serious?"

"Is she gonna let both of them fuck her?"

I couldn't look at them. I felt like I was on display, here for everyone's enjoyment. It filled me with humiliation; however, that feeling was both excruciating and exhilarating. It turned me on just as much as it scared me. I was in a constant state of flux and indecision, stuck between giving in completely and stopping this from going any further.

The fingers at my pussy stopped and withdrew. I almost whined in protest. That is until I looked up at Chris and saw him repositioning himself between my legs.

I knew what was coming next. I gasped and looked up at Doug, seeing if he was okay with what was happening. His smile told me that he was.

My heart was beating fast. My breathing quickened. I couldn't believe what I was allowing to happen, but I couldn't stop myself from letting it happen. I was lost in a sea of drunken, high lust.

I looked back down just in time to see Chris's face disappear between my open legs and up my skirt. A loud, whiny moan came from my lips as his tongue grazed across my swollen pussy lips for the first time.

I reached down and grabbed a fist full of Chris's hair and guided him to where I wanted his tongue. When he was in the right area, I used the hand not grabbing his hair to spread my lips apart and show him what his target was.

His tongue lapped away at my clit, sending shockwaves through me. Chris was good. He was really good. It didn't take long for his mechanisms to have me arching my back and grinding his face. My head was thrown back into my boyfriend, who used this opportunity to start kissing my neck.

The two of them became the epidemy of teamwork, both working together with the singular goal of driving me insane with lust. My body was writhing, my mouth was moaning, and my orgasm was quickly building up inside of me. How much more could I take?

"You are so fucking hot." I heard the girl say from the audience.

That was it. I came so hard on Chris's face that my body trembled. My legs clamped over his head, and I let out a loud, guttural groan.

My body went limp once that intense orgasm passed. I was in another stratosphere. I was so far gone that the sound of a belt buckle jingling didn't even register.

You can pretty much guess what happened from there. You don't need me to spell it out, do you? I'm sure you would love to hear all the details about how I was double-teamed, live on stage, by my boyfriend and his good friend. I'm sure you need to hear all the nasty little details about how I was fucked all over the living room.

Yes, they fucked me on the coffee table. Yes, they fucked me on the floor. Yes, I was bent over the arm of the couch and pounded by both of them as they alternated between my pussy and my mouth.

Saliva was everywhere. The room reeked of sex, sweat, and marijuana. And the three in the audience watched me acting like a whore.

The finale was epic. Both of them came within moments of each other, filling me with sperm from the opposite ends.

The first was Chris. He exploded in my mouth with a loud groan. It surprised me and made me squeal. I could feel his thick, veiny cock pulsing against my lips as squirt after squirt of bitter cum shot into my throat. His load was too big for my little mouth to endure, so what didn't go down my throat escaped my lips and dribbled down my chin.

That must've set Doug off, because he too cried out as he slammed into me from behind. His cock bottomed out inside me, which made me give another muffled squeal (I still had Chris's dick in my mouth). He held me there as he flooded my womb.

The three of us collapsed onto the floor into a naked, sweaty heap. I was stretched out on my back, letting my exhausted body air out. I turned to see Doug looking at me with such admiration.

Chris pretty much looked at me the same. I'd given the two of them such pleasure that they were practically worshiping me.

When I finally looked out at my audience, I saw that the two guys had started kissing on the girl. One was kissing her mouth, the other was nibbling on her neck. She looked just as lost as I had. I knew then that she was going to endure the same fate that I had.

That moment of being the center of attention, of whipping everyone in the room into a frenzy of lust, that stays with me, even to this day. I've never felt such a sense of sexual fulfillment before. I go back to it from time to time. That perfect night created this thing inside of me, and it's been with me all these years.