Allow me to tell you about Jane, my curvy, mature secretary.
She possesses a figure so devastatingly ample and seductive it drives me mad with desire. My name is Scott Williams, a 35 years-old divorcee and managing director of Williams Electronics, and I've harboured a fondness about Jane's body for a very long time. But, there is a big but – and I'm not talking about Jane's arse – there is an age gap between us, that plus the fact she's my secretary complicates things.
You see Jane is 45 years-old and widowed and she tends to look upon me as her maternal charge, especially during the years following my divorce. Following that acrimonious split, and after experiencing some barren patches of enforced celibacy, I started appreciating Jane not just for her maternal presence and professional skills, but for what she really was - a sexy, curvaceous woman of elegant taste and refinement, a gorgeous woman who radiates eroticism and tempts me into wondering if she would be amenable to a younger man's attention.
She has a sensual appeal, which is enhanced and highlighted by her elegant taste in clothes, make-up and choice of hairstyle, and at every opportunity I'd study her body fantasising about her lingerie and watching her taking her clothes off.
Jane's figure is strikingly voluptuous and she displays it to perfection. She is a buxom lady without appearing overweight. True her flesh bulges a little at the waist, hips and backside and at times it's a miracle that the buttons and zippers of her clothes remained fastened under such tension. But observing these trifling imperfections only increases the curvaceous comeliness of this full- bosomed woman adding seriously to her sensuous presence.
For work she normally wears austere but nevertheless classically designed clothes. A dress one day, a skirt the next, sometimes figure hugging, sometimes loose and her choice of blouses or shirts would always be satin or silk, and tied in a bow at the neck ... the kind of bow you wanted to undo.
And her choice of hosiery is always black or grey and finely meshed coordinating perfectly with every unfussy outfit she wears. When she moves between our adjoining offices a trail of perfume always follows in her wake, compelling me to lift my nose and inhale the sweet aroma that envelopes her shapely, curvaceous beauty. And the seductive click-clacking of her high-heels on the wooden floor is usually my cue to surreptitiously adjust my erection beneath the desk. My craving and lust were reaching a point where I to do about something about it; I had to contrive a scenario whereby I could confess my feelings and hopefully not risk our relationship being damaged.
That opportunity presented itself unexpectedly one afternoon after I'd finished dictating some letters. Although we used internal email system throughout the factory, I preferred to dictate my correspondence for Jane to type up. With this practice I get to watch Jane crossing and uncrossing her legs and wager how far the hem of her skirt would rise along plump thighs. Some days it rose alarmingly high, like this afternoon when it reached an all-time high leaving me to speculate on whether Jane ever wore stockings. Wallowing in this stocking fixation, I pictured their lacy tops and perhaps a glimpse of a suspender coming into view, wondering whether my delightful secretary was aware just how much of her lovely meaty thighs she was exhibiting.
So, with my carnal thoughts on Jane's legs to embolden me, I finally plucked up the courage and asked her.
'Would you like to have dinner with me tonight, Jane?'
She didn't reply immediately and I thought I'd blown all hope of initiating something special. Then, as I waited for her to speak she smiled allaying my unease. Jane placed her notepad on the desk and uncrossed her legs. She narrowed her eyes, tugged at the hem of her dress – with very little effect - and gave me a look of incredulity.
'Dinner!' she said mocking me. 'Scott Williams, you've been staring at my legs, and other parts of my anatomy, for the past thirty minutes and all you want is a dinner companion!' Jane's retort was totally unexpected and took me by surprise, as did her next act. She got to her feet parked her backside on my lap wrapping an arm around my shoulders; this was not the kind of reaction I was expecting, neither was the shuffling of her rear on my stiff erection.
'Now, be truthful, Scott. What you really meant to say was – can I take you to bed, Jane?' Suddenly I was very nervous of what she was about to say. 'I've felt your eyes on me, watching me when I wasn't looking and every time I take dictation you sit on this low sofa in order to see up my skirt. I ask you again, Scott Williams, is that all you want me for, a dinner companion?'
I swallowed to moisten my mouth, trying to pluck up the courage to answer honestly. But the seconds ticked by and I still didn't reply. But when Jane took my hand and placed it on her thighs, my mettle instantly resolved.
'Yes, Jane, that is precisely what I meant.' I replied.
'Thank you, Scott. I value honesty and I am very flattered you see me as a desirable woman, even though I'm considerably older; but dinner won't be necessary as a prelude. Why don't you call on me around eight this evening; you know where I live.' Jane stood up and bending over grabbed a handful of my erection. 'And bring this thing with you.' She smiled lasciviously and I was ecstatic that I'd finally addressed the elephant in the room.
I must admit to a certain amount of trepidation as I waited for Jane to answer the door that evening. It was one thing fantasising about seducing an older woman, but quite another when that moment arrives and you find yourself standing nervously on her doorstep clutching flowers and wondering what she is expecting. In the event my concern was baseless, for when Jane opened the door my eyes were drawn immediately to the flesh of her expansive breasts and the cleavage on show between the folds of a coffee-coloured satin robe; then I realised exactly what she was expecting.
'Come in, Scott, go through to the lounge we'll have a drink.' Jane led the way and I followed her perfumed trail like a slave being dragged along by the invisible force of his master. Jane poured the wine, handed me a glass and indicated the sofa. I sat down and Jane sat beside me. She crossed her legs causing the satin robe to part and reveal lacy stocking tops adorning her powerful thighs.
'Here's to a happy time.' She said touching my glass with hers. 'I apologise for not being dressed,' she said covering up her legs. 'But I hadn't yet decided what to wear.'
I told her. 'Jane, please don't bother on my account. What you are wearing now is perfectly alright by me - and very sexy.'
'That's nice of you to say so, but I suspect the flash of stocking top and sight of my cleavage might have been an influencing factor. Am I right?' Jane adjusted the robe to cover up her exposed areas.
'Absolutely,' I replied truthfully. 'You look stunning, a hell of a contrast to what you wear for the office. Perhaps I should make it compulsory for you to wear that robe for work.' My heart was thumping like crazy as I said the words.
'Yes, I'm sure you would, but I don't think there would be much work done.' Jane said mockingly as she linked arms with me. 'But Scott, but I'm interested in your feelings regarding our age gap? Personally, I'm extremely comfortable and highly flattered to learn of your affection towards me, but please tell me you're genuine about seeking a relationship and not just harbouring a fanciful whim about bedding an older woman.'
'No, it's not a whim, Jane. I hold you in high regard, as well as fancying you like crazy.' I pronounced.
'I'm so pleased to hear you say that, Scott, I hope you feel the same way when you see me without any clothes on – should we get that far.' Jane giggled. 'I'm not exactly glamour-girl standard. Nevertheless, I consider my body erotic and sexy for my age. I'm pleased with what I possess and judging by the way your eyes are feasting on my breasts, I'd say you are too; would you like to see more of them.' Jane's words were provocative. I drew a deep breath and launched into a tirade of honesty and lust.
