"Where do you think you're going?" I asked Rahul, the junior associate.
"Ma'am, it is 5'o'clock," he replied nervously.
"Is the work done? Do you see me leaving?" I said in a stern tone. I was in a frustrated and irritable mood and Rahul was now receiving my ire.
He sat back down quietly and continued to work. I was the CEO of the company and Rahul had been assisting me on a recent project. It was the first time I had worked with him. He was on loan from the accounts department as I needed a numbers person to help prepare for the annual board meeting.
It was late in the evening as we began to make some headway as some pieces began to fall into place.
I could see Rahul glance at my chest from time to time as the evening had worn on. As the day had progressed my state of dress was not as uptight as it was at the start of the day. I had rolled up my sleeves and opened up a button on the blouse as I felt suffocated. My skirt may have ridden up an inch or two as we sat on the chairs adjacent to each other. Despite being at the top I liked to get my hands dirty and I did not like delegating tasks I could easily do myself. I worked long hours and after a long day in the office it was natural for me to loosen my clothing. I was more easily irritable at the moment due to my situation.
I didn't mind the odd glance from him as long as he got the work done. As a woman in business, I understood that my sexuality was a part of who I was. I would tone it down most of the time as I wanted to be judged on my work rather than some superficial reasons. But I was very aware of the image I wanted to present to my colleagues and clients and I always ensured I looked the part of a successful woman.
For example, no one would know that at the age of 42 and having just given birth 3 months ago I was separated and in the middle of a bitter divorce. It was the reason I wanted to work late tonight and most nights. I was living alone in the city in an empty apartment away from my husband and child. I was the proverbial 'hot mess' at the moment.
My husband had wanted children for the longest time but it was not something I had warmed to or ever wanted until I discovered I was pregnant at the age of 41. It was a shock and my husband hated the idea of me working through my pregnancy. I only took off 4 weeks for the birth before returning to work. My husband could simply not forgive me and thought I was selfish for not putting the needs of the baby before my career. He didn't marry a housewife though and I was never going to play that role.
It was late in the evening and I needed to relieve my breasts as they were beginning to feel full. I often did this at home or if I was desperate I would do it in the office. Tonight I may need to do it in the office as my breasts were full and painful and I didn't think I would survive the journey home. I had hoped the milk production would stop by now as I stopped breastfeeding after the first four weeks. After I returned to the office it was no longer practical to breastfeed as I returned home late and it was too much work to pump for the baby and ensure there was enough. This was another reason my husband was angry with me. He had read some book about babies about the benefits of breast milk for a baby's development and for the first few weeks it was all he would talk about. It made me want to stop even more as his incessant whining irritated me.
Rahul looked tired and I thought I would let him go.
"Rahul, you have done well tonight. Do you have a wife waiting for you at home? I hope she is not mad that I have kept you in the office so late," I say trying to make small talk as I put things away.
"Thank you, Mrs. Sharma. I am not married. Not yet anyway but my parents are looking for a good match" he replies in a naive and youthful way.
"That is good. I am sure you will find a good girl," I reply as I show him to the door. He is young and naive and I doubt he has ever been with a woman.
Once he leaves and I see him walk towards the elevators I pull out my blouse from my skirt and open the buttons.
I unclasp the bra from the front as I let my overgrown breasts be free finally. My breasts had grown significantly in size since my pregnancy and they were now comfortably 36FF at least.
I lay down on my couch that Rahul had just been sitting on and attached the breast pumps to my nipples.
"Uff! Uhm! So good," I moaned as I felt a trickle of milk begin to flow from my nipples into the cup attached to the breast pump.
I closed my eyes as I let my breasts become relieved. I slowly massaged the flesh of my breasts as they were slowly milked. There was something arousing about having my breasts relieved and I wondered if a man would be willing to do this. I could not ask my husband as he was physically disgusted by my post-pregnancy body and he was not afraid to tell me. His revulsion was a large part of the reason that I left him and separated.
I felt something poking against my thigh but I tried to ignore it. It seemed to be wedged in the side of the couch.
I was feeling particularly horny while I milked myself today and I unclipped my skirt so I could reach inside my pantyhose and panties.
The looks from Rahul this evening had my thoughts on the horniest things as I fantasized about corrupting the young man. Not something I would dream of doing in real life but the fantasy made me so horny.
"Yes! Uff!" I moaned as my fingers rubbed my wet folds.
I heard the door open and I looked up to see Rahul standing there. His mouth was agape in shock at the sight before him.
I quickly removed my hand from my panties and removed the breast pump. I could still feel the moistness on them and I wrapped the blouse back around me. I turned around and closed a couple of buttons to hide my modesty but it still showed a healthy cleavage and amount of tit flesh.
We were both breathing heavy and for once I was unable to speak.
That object still poking away at me I decided to pull it out. The jingle of keys in my hand drew Rahul's eyes.
"Sorry Miss, I misplaced my keys," he said.
Rahul came up next to me and my senses were heightened as I inhaled his scent. He had a sweet and flowery scent from his fragrance and sweaty scent from a long day in the office which I preferred to the usual masculine cologne my husband drowned himself in. He leaned forward and plucked his keys from my hands.
I noticed his pants were tenser than before and there was an obvious tent. I wondered if he was aroused by my shocking state.
"Miss, I am sorry, I will, you know, see you tomorrow," he said as he stumbled over his words unable to look away from my heaving chest.
"Yes. See you tomorrow," I said regaining my composure.
Something about the way he looked at me made me think he had liked what he saw and it was something that I thought about a lot that night.
That night as I arrived home to my empty apartment, I let down my hair from the tight bun they have been wrapped in all day. I sat down on my chaise as I removed my high heels. I winced at the pain as my feet were finally able to breathe. It was painful to wear high heels but I had to look a certain way. I removed the blazer and this was followed up by the blouse. I lay back on the chaise as I unclipped my skirt and pulled it off. I was able to relax finally as the work armor was now removed.
The maid had left some food in the fridge that I heated up. I left my clothes on the floor by the chaise for the maid to clean up the next morning. I ate stood in the kitchen leaning against the worktop in just my stockings, bra and panties. My mind would drift off to Rahul and how he looked at me. His looks had my mind on horny thoughts as I wondered if he would drink from my breasts. Would he want to? My brain worked out the scenarios if I propositioned him. I sensed an intrigue from him but I had so much more to lose if I did something like this in real life.
My fingers returned to my wet folds as I pulled my panties to the side and I unclipped my bra once more.
My hand cups my large breasts and teases my nipples as my other hand is opening my wet folds and my delicate fingers are circling my engorged clit. My shy clit is beginning to emerge from the hood as I slowly tease it.
I imagine sitting on Rahul's face as his tongue circles my clit.
I bite my hand as I imagine him underneath me taking my weight.
"Good boy," I mutter to myself as I imagine the shy Rahul exploring my body sexually.
Milk is dribbling over my fingers from my engorged nipples and my pussy is dripping from manipulation as my fingers become slick with the juices. I begin to rub my clit faster and pinch my nipples as I urge my building orgasm to explode. I throw my head back as I feel that orgasm that had been building. It is so powerful that I need to hold on to the worktop for support as my knees go weak.
I became busy with other areas and did not have a reason to see Rahul or seek him out. It was perhaps for the best as my obsession was likely to become messy for me professionally.