A Wet Time With Annie

It was lust for Annie at first sight. The new secretary at work knew she was hot and wasn't afraid to flaunt it. Her young twenties' zest for life had my thirty-mumble years making me feel like a dinosaur. I wanted her. I had to have her.

I couldn't have her.

Since she worked mostly away from clients, she wore tight t-shirts which showed off her perky, small b-cups. She usually had a skirt draped off her narrow hips down to her ankles, but occasionally tight jeans removed room for imagination.

Annie had the most amazing blue eyes, pale, the color of the cold, winter sky; they went nicely with her butter blonde—almost white—hair.

Annie liked to flirt, and she was a kleptomaniac where pens were concerned. If you left one lying on your desk, and Annie was in the vicinity, you could bet it'd be gone by the time she was on her way back to her cube. I lost count of the times I went to retrieve my Parker 51 from her. We had the script down by the end of her first week at the office:

"Gimme back my pen," I'd say.

"What makes you think I got it?" she'd ask.

"I saw you walk off with it."

She'd take the pen out of her desk drawer and hold it up for me, just out of reach.

"This pen?"

I'd make a grab for it, and she'd move it away, again, just out of reach.

"Gimme." My voice raised a little bit. It was my pen, damn it. A gift.

Then she'd hand it back, with a smile on her thin, dark red, lipsticked lips which said, 'I won.'

"Next time you have to earn it," she'd say with a tone of promise, which would, invariably, fluster me.

Sometimes I'd sputter, "I—I—I—"

I had a wife, and I couldn't have Annie. I wanted her.

I just couldn't have her.

Annie knew about my wife. Betty's picture is on my desk, and I talked about her all the time—she's my wife, the other half of me.

I should have known better; I was playing with fire with our pen game.

Our flirt game.

I'd say to myself, "I love my wife …" … 'but I'd love to fuck Annie.' "I can't do anything to screw up my marriage …" '… but I'd sure love to fuck Annie.'

My sex life at the time had dwindled to the point of my occasionally seducing Betty, and sticking it in until I came. I wanted more. I needed more. I tried to rationalize it by telling myself that Betty had a lower sex drive, but that was a lie; she could get just as horny as me. Hell, I could turn her into a little animal.

No, it was something different. I loved Betty—I found Betty sexy, gorgeous, loving … but I needed someone to stoke my fires. I needed Annie.

I wanted Annie.

#

Every now and then I have to work late to catch up on paperwork. Not "work late," but … work late.

Usually, when 5:30 comes along, I'm the first doing the sprint for the door, but Thursdays are Betty's late days at her job, and we don't usually see each other again until Friday night.

I worked until six-thirty, I'd finished way early the projections for the project I was working on, and I was ready for an hour or two of peace and quiet before Betty got home. Finally, I could watch something on TV that I wanted to. Sometimes consensus sucks.

The parking lot was dark, and at first I didn't notice her, because she was parked directly behind my car.

Annie.

She sat on the hood of her car, swinging her legs, watching me approach. I was glad I couldn't see her eyes in the dark, because I had a feeling that they had the sparkling look of a predator.

She made me nervous, so I broke the silence first.

"What's up?" Smooth. Real smooth.

Annie shrugged, her little titties jiggled a little beneath her t-shirt.

"Car's dead," she said. "Damn thing won't start. I think it's the battery. Can you give me a jump?"

I was being stalked. 'Now I know how an antelope on the African savanna feels,' I thought.

"I don't have any cables," I replied. "Need a lift?"

"I could use a ride." I hit the button on my key fob, and my car unlocked. She hopped in.

Annie directed me to a small apartment complex nearby. I parked in front of her building and killed the engine.

"Thanks for the ride," she said.

"Not a problem," I said, slightly hesitant.

We both sat there, waiting the the other to make the first move. I was scared; it was a line I was crossing, and I still wasn't sure I wanted to cross it. Annie spoke up for the two of us.

"I owe you one."

"You do?"

She nodded, a half-smirk.

"Yep, just … one."

"And nothing more after that?" Strings are bad, I couldn't have strings really mucking things up.

"Not unless my car breaks down again …"

I put my hand on her leg, no turning back. "I think you might want to take it to a mechanic," I said, then squeezed.

Annie's half-smirk turned into a full smile. She closed her eyes as I stroked her thigh through her dress. She pulled it up so I could touch her bare, pale flesh of her legs.

Heavenly velvet. She was a natural girl who apparently didn't shave.

My hand meandered up to her panty-covered mound. I stroked her through the damp cotton. She was soaked.

Annie put her hand on mine.

"I just want you to know," she said, voice husky, "I like it dirty." The tone of her voice got my attention and brought me out of my mesmerized state.

"Dirty?" I thought it over. I've had a varied past. I shrugged. "It's only dirty if it's done right," I said. "How dirty."

Annie pushed my hand hard onto her crotch, and let out a small squirt of pee.

"I like it dirty," she repeated.

I looked Annie in the eye and raised my hand to my lips and licked and sucked off her salty pee.

"That ain't dirty, baby, it's just wet."

We got out of the car and went to her apartment.

Annie opened the door and motioned for me to go inside. Once I entered, she slammed the door and came up behind me. She threw her arms around me and started massaging my groin through my slacks. My already hard cock turned into iron.

She had trouble with the button on my pants and grew impatient, so she gave a hard jerk and the button went flying off into the darkness, clicking across the floor.

"Hey—!" I said, turning around, but she cut me off by yanking my pants down to my ankles.

She descended onto her knees and pulled down my underwear.

My cock sprang out and stood at attention, pointing at the ceiling like a missile waiting for the launch go-ahead.

She smiled.

"That's a nice cock you got there," she said, stroking it lightly with one hand and tickling the hair on my balls with the other.

"Can you …?"

"Can I what?" I asked.

"You know … pee?"

If you've never tried, it's pretty hard to squeeze out piss through a hard-on.

"I think so," I said.

She licked my shaft sucking on the head like a lollipop, then moved to the underside, driving me insane; I love it when a woman licks me on the underside of my shaft; the problem was I couldn't make any kind of piss with the kind of hardness she was causing.

I wanted to fuck her right then, but I held off.

I had plenty of time; it was Betty's late night.

I pulled my cock out of her mouth and pulled Annie to her feet. I hiked up her skirt, so that I could get at her pussy. Her white cotton panties had dried a little, leaving a faint yellow stain. She smiled a dirty smile, and let loose with more pee, turning her panties transparent again, causing a small puddle on the floor where it ran down her legs.

I didn't have a choice—I had to taste it—so I went down on her, sucking on her cunt though her underwear, sucking the salty piss out of her panties.

"It's my turn," she said. "I need to taste it."

We switched positions, and I put the head of my cock at her lips.

I strained.

"Relax," she murmured. "Relax, and it'll come."

I tried that old trick about thinking of baseball.

Didn't work—I wanted to use my baseball bat for a line drive and a home run.

Mind over matter. Mind over matter.

My cock deflated a little, and I rewarded Annie for her patience with a tiny squirt of pee into her open mouth, her lips in an 'o'.

She grinned.

"Yesssss," she hissed. "Nice and strong."

She peeled off her shirt, revealing a tank-top, the only thing between me and her gorgeous little titties.

I let loose with some more pee, soaking her white tank-top with a stain of yellow. She giggled, and smiled, biting her lower lip.

"More," she said.

There was no holding back the floodgates now, and I soaked her from head to toe, drenching her hair, back-and-forth, alternating from one breast to the other, and ending up soaking her crotch with my piss.

I didn't have to tap; she slurped the last drops from the end of my cock, which instantly grew hard again.

I threw Annie back onto the hardwood floor and pulled aside her panties, giving me a straight shot to her pussy.

I slid right in; her cunt massaged my cock from her outer lips all the way until, I swear to God, I hit her cervix.

I fucked her like a sailor on leave, all the while telling her what a nasty little slut she was.

I was getting close, and I told her. How could I not blow my fucking wad in record time? This was as nasty as I'd gotten in a long time.

"Don't … come … in … me," she huffed in rhythm with my thrusting. "Come … in … my … mouth—come … on … my … tongue!"

I pulled out and tried to obliged her, really, but I ended up spraying her face with my spunk. I think some got into her mouth, but I wasn't quite sure, because I was distracted by the sight of Annie finishing herself off with her hand.

She came with a final squirt, and lay back on the floor.

"Thank-you," she said. "I've been needing that for a while, but no one ever wants to play like that."

I patted her on the stomach and stood.

"My pleasure," I said, looking around for my clothes. "Your car needs to break down more often."

And it did.