Ever had a co-worker you wanted to fuck so badly it almost hurt? I think that's fairly common, especially for men of my age and experience. But to have that coworker admit they feel the same makes it much more interesting. Add to that a 20plus age gap and endless creativity, and going to work can be almost dangerous.
A few months before I turned 50, I confronted a coworker about her ogling my crotch. I don't know if she was aware of how often she did it. She said she wasn't, and I believe her based on her deep blush. I'm the only man where I work, so I do catch coworkers on occasion, but with her it was a bit different as she was the youngest woman there.
Anyway, what I thought I knew was that she was a somewhat awkward young woman with perhaps a subconscious crush on an older man. We'd worked together for a while, so I knew she didn't have a father, and thought maybe it stemmed from that? She even came to me with homework on occasion as she worked through college. It was unsettling at first but still flattering. She'd lost 40plus pounds a few months before this started, leaving her with a pretty nice body, so despite her being a mouthy redhead with a feminist bent, having her blush when I caught her eye was hardly an insult. I figured at my age I could adjust my standards some for compliments right?
I suppose I should describe us a bit more in detail here. She's about 5'8, maybe 140 pounds? She's got one of those figures that's sort of thin and lanky on top, but a full ass? She was self-conscious about how the size of her breasts, but I would place them at maybe a B cup? Definitely enough to work my mouth around I thought. She also has this thick, sort of curly red hair and big eyes that I suspect on occasion she tries to work to her advantage (think calf eyes). I'm 6'4, a little bulkier with shoulders she called broad and an ass I thought was decent and she confirmed.
When I first confronted her and made her admit she "liked" me (I had no idea!), we behaved as people do with a newfound affection. I still don't know why her. Mouthy, stubborn, a little standoffish, occasionally cursing like a sailor, she was hardly my ideal. I ended up by her desk more often than usual, and she in my cubicle alarmingly often. It was harmless at first. She was actually sort of re-assuring to my slipping self-esteem, I was horny, and it was springtime.
Then we started to play truth or dare via text message. This is when she revealed a few things I did not know and the trouble in my pants started. My little coworker, who I thought was naΓ―ve, had had more sexual partners than I had. She also posted nude pics online after blocking out her face and tattoos (yep, she was an aspiring businesswoman with tattoos, surplus earrings and blue mascara- what a clichΓ© right?).
She wouldn't tell me where those pics were, but within a couple months I was able to "dare" her into a pic via text. It took forever, daring, coaxing and nudging, but the first time I opened that text message and saw her pussy, I felt my stomach clench and my dick harden in a way it hadn't in many moons. My type or not, I really, really wanted in that.
Then came the dare that started the physical part of it. She actually dared me to grope her breast in the same room with another coworker! I had groped her a bit in the break room but over her clothes and in passing. With this dare though, I upped the ante and standing behind her at her desk, shoved my hand down the open neck of her peasant blouse and gently squeezed that firm, small breast. Her reaction was a deep blush and clapping her hand over her mouth. Our other coworker never even noticed.
From there, it just got more heated. This woman was cautious in deference of her career, but still liked a good dare. She even started going without underwear at my nudging. The first time I stood behind her at her desk, and she lifted her skirt to show that sweet little pussy without any fabric over it it took several hours for the image to fade.
I mean, can you imagine? This barely 27 year old woman sliding her skirt up, with her thighs apart just enough to see the slit? All I wanted was to lean forward to slide my hand into her lap and into that slit. I also wanted to pound that all day, and it was 15 feet away, with nothing to hold me back but a thin skirt. A couple times I snuck up behind her and did reach into her lap. The jerk and gasp I got in reaction was rather flattering. She was always so warm there too.
That was the other thing- she tended to wear skirts, those clingy fabric kind. When she stood at the right angle beside me at my desk, I could almost see the outline of her pubic mound. I doubt anyone else could see it but I could hardly see anything else. Like I said she was thin enough, there was actually a mound there. I imagined it would feel great when slamming into it... Sort of soft but firm.
She brought me back to my younger years, which is largely how this all got out of hand. The first time I came up behind her at her desk and pulled my dick out before she even looked up was memorable. That blushing gaping look was sort of a balm to my lagging self-esteem. Maybe it sounds sick, but it never hurts to be made to feel desirable and well, like a man. After a while I coaxed her to reach up and touch, even stroke me, while standing at her desk with my back to the others.
A couple times when we were alone after work, I tugged her into my lap or against me. She had this way of running her hands over my chest and shoulders that made me feel...different. She was exploring me, eagerly. She sometimes would drop her head onto my chest, and just stand there with me, quietly exploring. It was rare, as she rambled when she got nervous but those moments made me question a lot about myself. Just a few months after I confronted her, we were a little too comfortable with each other.
Early on we established there was no chance of a relationship working out, and neither of us was going to pursue it, and there would be no sex between us. As far as a relationship went, she had a young child I had no interest in raising, and I was comfortable with my life. She actually got pissed when I accused her of being in love with me. Like I said, she was sort of unusual but perfect for this type of thing.
Oddly we would occasionally fight and then almost make up like a couple. She was pretty hot-tempered. The first time she yelled at me, she apologized via text, and then came into my cube after hours when all but a few people were gone. As she stood there talking to me, I slid my hand up her firm inner thigh to feel her quiver.
I thought it was rejection or nerves as we could hear the next person over typing until she quietly giggled sheepishly, put my hand back, and quietly revealed she was ticklish even there (really, who's ticklish at 27?!). I had to try again to work around that, but when I cupped her pussy through the silk thong, I very nearly came in my pants- she was soaked. A couple slow strokes through that silk, my fingers were wet.
When I took them away and slowly rubbed them together to test the moisture, she blushed deeper and stammered. Apparently she didn't realize it was that noticeable. That was the great thing about her- she was knowledgeable enough I didn't feel guilty or like I was leading her astray, but she was in a little over her head with someone my age.
I kept pushing her to give me details on her fantasies about me. Eventually she revealed she thought about me while "flying solo." I liked that idea... But when she wrote out her fantasies, which included a detailed blowjob chapter, the boundaries all fell apart. We sort of avoided staying late together as most times when we did we fooled around a bit and it worried me. After I read that fantasy though, I felt my interest in her, and more specifically her pussy, peak as it hadn't since the first time I touched her (at that point I was touching her daily).
My birthday was also coming up. I did not want to turn 50. I knew I was still attractive, but the new aches and pains I felt in the last few years were depressing. In her way, she re-assured me, telling me if I could make her blush like I could, I couldn't possibly be that old. Still though, at her age, she couldn't understand this type of thing.
A week or so before my birthday, and a couple weeks after she let me read her fantasy, we were the last two in the building. I knew she was there as I could hear her typing. I wasn't sure if she knew I was there, as she tended to blare this awful head-banger music in her headphones while she worked. About 5:30, when she normally punched out, I heard her putting things away and so on. Then she came out of her cubicle, stopped in mine on her way out, and stood as she had so many times before, leaning against the partition that formed the door.
I bantered with her, teasing her about the construction workers in the building that she had told me she'd caught checking her out earlier in the day. She found it sort of flattering. She tended to move around a lot when she spoke (I think she drank 2 pots of coffee every day) and ended up a bit closer to me.
Slowly, so she knew damned well what I was doing and had a chance to bail, I reached out and grabbed that clingy skirt and tugged her into my lap. I liked the way she didn't resist, and the way she relaxed, trusting my arm around her. I got the feeling she'd been treated badly in the past by the way she seemed flattered by those little things. With that soft blushing smile I recognized as the companion to a wet pussy, she leaned into me and kissed my neck. Murmuring she asked how I was doing today. I had to clear my throat before making a flippant reply that I had something heavy in my lap and there was this redhead that wouldn't leave me alone. She chuckled and bit my ear.
By this time, as you can imagine, I was rock hard under her soft ass. The way she was arching into me did not help. She was rubbing my chest again in the way I liked, that gentle but urgent exploration. I unbuttoned her sweater and slid my hand into it to fondle her breast. She sighed and moved her mouth to mine.
That should have been my red alert. Neither of us had made any move to kiss each other before. I could feel a fine sheen of sweat on her skin as I wrestled with her bra and I was a little warm myself. Eventually she broke her mouth away from mine and leaning back, reached her arms behind her and unhooked it herself, under her sweater.
Another red alert. We tended to work around clothes but not take them off and had never unhooked her bra.