Daydream at Wor

(For the safety of those featured in this story, names have been altered or removed; in addition, all "participating" characters within the body of text are over the age of 18. This is, in fact, based partially on a true story, although most of it is fantasy.)

*

It was the night of November 15th. I shuffled the documents on my desk and straightened up the assorted equipment scattered atop it, letting out a stifled sigh. Most around are doing the same thing, being that it's Friday, and nearly everyone stuck in one of the dull grey cubicles is wishing for escape as well. Not all of them were sighing, however; more specifically, the ones who weren't were those lucky enough to leave at 5 pm. Unfortunately for myself, being a recent college graduate and unable to find better work, I was stuck at the bottom of the totem pole and had the worst hours, which weren't too unreasonable at 1:00-9:00. Granted, the hours were exhausting even for young, vibrant people like me, but at the end of the day, you want to be home on the couch with a blanket and Netflix. Maybe in the company of an attractive girl, if I was lucky...

Ignoring the glare of the monitor in front of me, I stood long enough to stretch my upper body and attempt relaxation, even though I knew it was unlikely to happen. Self-massage didn't work either, as I had already discovered on several previous attempts, followed with the same, useless action. This time I decided to let my sigh come out fully since no one else was around in the office either. The hours ticked on and during my shift, there were only about 10 people left in a building of hundreds, just to take calls and finish filing any leftover paperwork. On this occasion, 3 of the 10 had called off "sick" and one more had actually gotten vacation, which was amazing. Of the 6 left, beside myself, there were 4 other base-level workers and one particularly sexy supervisor.

I say sexy because she wasn't what one would consider gorgeous; on the contrary, she had an air of superiority that ruined any of her more defining features, but that brought an almost masculine power to her feminine qualities. For those who appreciate powerful women... she had that attractiveness in spades. Despite the fact that she was probably old enough to be my mother, although she was nothing like her, I did harbor a soft spot for her along with reservations. For one, she was married; two, she had children not

that

much younger than myself; three, she was my boss. It's hard to imagine making a move, any move, and having it backfire without repercussions in my career. Even though I didn't quite like my job and it wasn't the one I wanted, it was still paying the rent, and getting fired for sexual harassment was the last thing I needed at this point in my life. Furthermore, she was a former friend and coworker of my mother, who once worked there, and that did make things awkward to an extent.

Still, I shot an occasional glance in her direction, peeking over my cubicle wall to watch her walk away, her large but firm and shapely backside stretching the fabric of her slacks. She always wore clothes that managed to compliment her curves, unlike some of the other women in the office, though they didn't share her appeal. Her long, wavy hair had recently been dyed a soft auburn, not ostentatious but noticeably brighter than her usual dark brown. Most often, she was wearing a black work coat with slightly padded shoulders, and a tight-fitting blouse that accentuated her ample breasts. It was obvious that she had borne children, but it wasn't overt, and her age was well hidden, not prominent in the least. I didn't want her: I desired, even lusted after her.

Being 22 years of age and thus quite sexually motivated, she was not my first pick out of the ladies in the office. There was one partially chubby girl who was very eager to start a relationship, who I ended up ditching at 2 am after a very drunk one night stand; another was a pale brunette who turned out to be lesbian, rather disappointing after a month's effort; and a third, ravishing black girl who had a child and was as unstable as Chernobyl.

Then, one day, my sensuous supervisor placed a hand on my forearm and commented quietly on the softness of my skin. From there on, she, on occasion, found a way to touch me platonically. I thought I was losing my mind; there was no way in

Hell

this woman was into me! Yet, this intrigued my less than good senses, which were passing naughty thoughts across to each other on paper airplanes. My head swelled, my fingertips trembled on the keyboard, and I took to dreaming while awake and working, imagining in great detail the wonder of being inside of her. Shame did overwhelm me whenever we made eye contact, but the little twinge of intuition hammering at the back of my skull insisted she wanted me too.

So I trudged on through the daily routine, pretending to care about the mundane, stealing any glances I could at her fine, fantastic ass, getting more animalistic the more repressed I became. I was unbelievably edgy and had not even touched myself for three weeks, unable to relieve myself for fear of losing hope altogether. Later, I would find myself gasping for air as I worked my hard member to orgasm, releasing more semen than I had ever done before, whilst imagining her warm, curvaceous body entwined with mine, rocking back and forth on top of my manhood. I could not have been more grateful for that moment because on the next day, she touched my arm again and stated she loved me, although "not in the weird way, just because I was a sweetheart and like her son".

She repeated that phrase for the next week and a half, tormenting me with what could have possibly been something of a kinky nature. Do I indulge what sounds like a wink towards a fantasy, taboo as it is, or do I ignore this for better prospects? The hunger haunted me.

The answer came sooner than expected and as I, still stretching, surveyed the compact, compartmentalized office, there she was, also staring in my direction. She lifted a hand and gestured with her first finger to come hither, a smirk on her face. We'd been recently partnered up by the higher-ups to beta test some new software, but I wasn't sure if this was about the asshole we'd been dealing with or not. Grunting, I exit my poorly upholstered chair and tensely walk over to her oversized cubicle, leaning over the side. She grinned at me with her beautifully arranged white teeth, and her pretty pink lips stretched wide.

"Look at what I've got for you to do tomorrow!"

Perusing the stats page of our department's web app, I notice that, once again, she's put me on the worst assignment (which incidentally happens to be an area reporting directly to her). As she was my supervisor but I reported to someone else on a usual day, this was unique. I look back at her and groan audibly, complaining, "Geez, I didn't want to do LI if I didn't have to..."

"I know, but you're good at it, and we need you in there tomorrow."

"I know, I know you need me", I bemoan falsely, staring blankly up at the ceiling and trying to ignore the phrase "in there" as much as possible. It didn't mean anything.

Or did it? "Yes, I do." She stared at me for a moment. "You know, you really do remind me of my son." "Isn't he 13?" Pretending at exasperation, she stated, "

Yes

, but that isn't what I meant and you know it," giving an impatient huff, "You two just do look a lot alike." I shrug it off casually, hoping to change the topic, "I suppose." "He's my baby", she added, pausing to examine a picture of him at her desk. "He's an ass, sometimes, but I do love him." Laughing now, I smile and comment, "Well, that's what we have in common then; I really am a quite an ass." "Hon, you have quite an ass, that doesn't mean you are one." She blushed scarlet and hurried with, "That wasn't meant how it sounded." I was blushing radish red too and almost stammered, shocked and intrigued that she would dare to say something as forward as that. Not wishing to end my good fortune, I hastily replied, "That's fine, it was fine with me either way." It seemed a clumsy response but she blushed further and continued, "Well good, because it was true."

Horrified at what could happen if any of this went sour but mollified by the good reaction I was getting, I moved closer around her cubicle corner and sized her up. "Eh, that's fair, but it's not as good as yours." She grinned like a schoolgirl and looked away from me. "Oh, stop it, Greg, that's not work appropriate." Still, she looked as fascinated with the conversation's progress as I was, and I decided to press further, being of a mind that I would lay with her tonight, right on her desk, if I could. "Sorry, my thoughts aren't quite work appropriate either right now." It was my turn to be sized up now, and she contemplated out loud, "I wonder what those thoughts are." "Oh, I couldn't say them, they're NSFW", I explain, "I'm a good boy, I shouldn't be saying them out in public." "Well, then we might find a private place so you can confide in me." Her eyelash winked in my direction and I knew, was finally sure, that tonight I was getting lucky with the sexiest mature lady I had ever met before.

Nervous and almost shaking with anticipated pleasure, I murmur, "I'm still on the clock you know." Her lips whisper in my ear seductively, "Nope, you're on my clock now and I'm not sure I'm going to wait much longer."

She grabbed my hand and pulled me in the direction of the break room, leading me down the hall to the client conference suite. It was lush with soft leather chairs and a pristine oak desk, complete with ceiling fans and kitchenette. On the way, she shed her coat and by the time we'd entered the room, she backed against the desk and we were already touching each other in places we normally wouldn't. Her top came off and my sweater did too, she had her hands up my shirt and I was indulging myself kissing her neck, hands around her waist and undoing her bra strap. Then came the moans. "Oh, Greg..." "Shannon..." I lifted her atop the desk and found myself between her legs, embraced by them, her soulful eyes staring up at my face with long-dormant desire. She grabbed my arms, rubbing her hands along them, and pulled me in close. "I want to fuck you right now, right here, on this desk, hard." Her words were firm and her skin was soft, and my heart was beating ten times faster, pulse racing from exhilaration. The only words I found were simple but honest, "Shannon, me too." My tongue located hers in a drawn out French kiss and I explored the inside of her mouth, savoring the taste and imagining what her lips might taste like downstairs as well.

Curious, I kiss down the nape of her neck, collarbone, between her warm breasts, pausing to suck her erect nipples, and down her belly to her panties. Her jeans were still around her knees, and I somewhat forcefully yanked them off, causing her to yelp, but her cries were muffled once my lips touched hers. This time, it was not her mouth I was exploring, but her box, her panties shoved aside and my mouth replacing them. "Mmmm, you smell as sweet as I'd imagined..." I spend time on her clitoris, feeling my way around it and sucking it, hard, interrupting my reverie only to lick along her labia. She shoved her slit into my face, and just barely over my own moans mingled with her cries of "Oh my God!" and "Fuck!", I heard her whisper, "Brad never does this to me, never..." Smiling internally, I kiss my way back to her nipples and suck on them some more (this gets me harder than anything else), and share her juices with her, making out. Her luscious green eyes looked up at me, and I knew what we both needed.

She helped herself back up on the desk, having slid back some during my delicious eat-out session, and as I straightened myself up, she shocked me by grabbing my penis and shoving it in her mouth. Her head bobbed up and down on mine and I felt as if I was going to burst when she said, "You're even bigger than Brad is, damn." Sucking on my erect member, covered in spit and precum, she looked more sexy than she had ever been before. Her hair looked unkempt and was ruffled from where my hands had been through it, and the smell of our sex filled the room. With pleasure, I remembered this was the only room not monitored by cameras, though the thought had not occurred to me before.

Feeling very satisfied but craving more,

needing

to be inside her body, I boldly ask her, loud and clear, "Want it now?" She hoarsely whispered, "Yes..."

I tease her briefly with the head, swelled and throbbing, and she moaned as I began to slide it inside her. She wasn't too tight, and her skin was partially firm and wrinkly, but the noises she made were such a compliment that I surged with joy and felt inches bigger as I fucked her box. We started with missionary, the best beginning but also the most boring, and as we shared our bodies with each other, I recalled a dream. "You know... Shannon... I dreamed of fucking you once." "Did you, baby?" "Yeah, a long while ago... you were bent over and I was in you from behind, after eating you out." She let out a moan and I pulled out as she suddenly flipped over, pushing her ass in my direction. I pushed her cheeks aside and kissed in between, kissed her inflamed lips, and put myself inside again, kissing along the inside of her back as I did it. Euphoria was kicking in and I was in heaven, and I yelled out, "You have a brilliant ass, love!" Her obnoxious but wonderful laugh interrupted a spot of heavy breathing and little yelps as my cock brushed her clit. She was still laughing for no reason, smiling, when I picked her up and beckoned her to sit on a chair with me. Her breasts in my face, my lips on her chest, and my cock in her box, we made love for what seemed like an eternity, ass bouncing and slamming down onto my lap.

I was breathing heavily and managed to get out, "Shannon, I think I'm going to cum. Where do you want it?" Oddly she said nothing and kissed me instead, tongue entwined with mine, and she set her head on my shoulder and whispered, "Inside me, Greg. I want you to cum in my pussy." Not sure how to take this, I felt my cock twitch excitedly and I knew it was going to happen soon. "You sure?" "Positive."

It jerked as I orgasmed within her body, balls deep, and I felt my warm semen coat the head as it spurted inside of her. She must have felt it too, because her torso shook and she muttered, "Damn." I had never known such pleasure, and after pulling out she sucked the head again, removing any traces of cum left on it, including hers. She smiled up at me, mascara slightly blurred, hair a mess, beads of sweat on her forehead. I looked down and could see the creamy white juice leaking out of her pink slit. I didn't bother to ask; on a strange whim of kinkiness, I applied pressure and licked it out of her, licking my lips and smiling up at her shocked expression. She kissed me back, hard, and we stared into each others' eyes before she asked:

"Again?"