Prey Of The Cougar 1

I heard, "Jeez, dude, I thought she was going to eat you alive!" as I exited the conference room. I looked over my shoulder, and saw that it was my friend, Raj.

Raj always had a way of exaggerating things, particularly when it came to women. If a woman smiled at him, she "totally wanted him," and if he got an enthusiastic hug from a friend, she was "all over him" when the story would be retold to us later. This time, Raj was right on.

We were just coming from a meeting, where I had just been introduced to the staff at my brand new job. The meeting was one that the department heads had each week, but the VP thought it would be a convenient time and place to let me meet the people I'd be working the most closely with.

The VP closed with, "And last but not least, I'd like to introduce everyone to Kendall O'Farrell, our new Chief Marketing Officer. Please do your best to make him feel welcome." As he was finishing his spiel and going over why I made such a "great addition to the team," I scanned the room, making eye contact with and smiling at all of my newest co-workers, trying to make a good first impression.

I spotted Raj first, smiling smugly at me from across the table. He knew that I'd be thanking him for helping me land the job later, during happy hour. He was also happy that one of his friends was now his supervisor.

Then I started moving from head to head from there. Most of my new colleagues were older men. Some of them looked happy to have me on, others just looked bored, and still others had their faces buried in their most recent text message.

I wasn't surprised. I was one of the youngest executives that the company had ever had. I was just hoping that fact didn't make them resent me.

Then, I spotted her. Actually, I noticed HER staring at ME, would be more appropriate. She was older, too... I guessed she was in her late 40's, although she looked younger than that. A combination of being in great shape and some of the best cosmetic surgery that an executive salary could buy made her look 10 years younger.

I briefly froze when her blue eyes met mine, because of how she was staring at me. Everyone else's eyes said "Hello." Hers said "Well hello there..." I diverted my eyes, moving onto the next face, trying my best to not get busted staring back at her.

I had to wait until the VP started going around the table, announcing names and positions, before I learned who she was.

"This is Michelle Sekoa, our Director of Regional Sales for the Pacific Northwest." the VP said as he gestured toward her. I nodded and smiled at Michelle, and gave an obligatory "nice to meet you" as she waved back from across the table.

If I wasn't staring at her, I would have guessed that she was Asian or Native American by her last name, but she looked strikingly Scandinavian. She didn't seem to be as tall as me, but she was still pretty tall for a woman. Straight blond hair framed her porcelain-skinned face, and her form-fitting V-neck sweater showed off an ample chest. Even though the VP and I moved on to the person sitting in the next seat, Michelle kept surveying me, and her grin grew wider.

After the meeting ended, and Raj had finished busting my balls about my encounter with Michelle, I went back to my office to get started on my first official day of work. It wasn't long before my first interruption.

There was a rap on my door frame, followed by a "Mister O'Farrell? Are you busy?" I turned around, and there was Michelle, peering in.

I was in the middle of reorganizing my predecessor's files and setting up my Outlook mail when she stopped in, so she was a welcome distraction.

"Ha. I call my dad 'Mr. O'Farrell'. Please, call me Ken." I said as I rose, extending a hand for a handshake. She came in close as she clasped my hand. I noticed there was no wedding ring.

"Whew, that's a relief," she said. "I prefer to keep it casual, too, but some of these guys insist that you call them 'Mister so and so.' I think it must be an executive thing."

"So I can just call you Michelle, then, 'Miss Sekoa?'" I asked in a sarcastic tone.

"Thank you, yes." she laughed.

We talked about everything and nothing for a few minutes before Raj came in. His face was buried in a manila folder he was flipping through as he walked in.

"Yo Ken, the guy before you made this folder with our..." He paused as he looked up and noticed Michelle standing next to me. "Ohhh I'm sorry! Am I interrupting anything?" he said through a Cheshire Cat grin.

Before I could tell Raj to eat shit, Michelle spoke up.

"No, Raj, I was just taking a moment to personally introduce myself to the new guy." she said as she rose to leave. "I need to get back to work, though. Nice meeting you, Ken!"

Raj followed Michelle's ass with his eyes as she exited the room and walked down the hall.

"Dang, dude, you work fast!" Raj laughed.

I offered to take him to lunch to keep him from embarrassing me in front of people. Plus, I knew he wouldn't leave me alone until he got a chance to bust my balls even more and talk about it.

After work, Raj and I hit a bar on the way to the train station for some happy hour drinks to celebrate my new employment.

Someone shouted to us from across the bar. A familiar voice barked, "Raj! Ken!"

We both peered past the throngs of drunken people in business suits to a dimly-lit corner with a booth. It was Michelle with a few other ladies from the office. Raj recognized them from HR and Accounting. They all waved, inviting us to join them.

We were only there for about a half hour before Michelle's company had to leave. One of the girls had a night course to get to. The others had families.

Raj decided that it would be an opportune moment to leave us alone. He grabbed his coat and leaned in before saying, "Details. Tomorrow. All of it." He grinned and nodded at Michelle. "See you tomorrow! I don't want to be a fifth wheel here..."

Michelle and I laughed uneasily and said our goodbyes to Raj as he pushed past a crowd of intoxicated Japanese businessmen.

Michelle and I talked for a long time. The more drinks we had, the more we both let our guards down. I learned that she had a cougar reputation around the office, because she had a very flirtatious nature.

She wasn't really a slut... she just used her sex appeal to her advantage, with her clients and her superiors. 90% of the people she interacted with professionally were men (usually older ones), and she knew exactly how to use her "assets" to get what she wanted.

She explained, "I never fuck them... but I make them think I WANT to. If it gets me an additional two million in annual sales and a promotion in the end, I'll tell any jackass whatever he wants to hear."

"So this morning, when you were practically devouring me with your eyes in the conference room, was that to try and get something out of me?" I asked, partially joking.

She let out a wide-eyed laugh before saying, "no, no... I was just happy to see that they finally hired someone under 50, and it was just a bonus that you're lots of fun to look at."

She winked at me and we both exchanged a silent smile. I decided that I probably shouldn't risk my new job by sleeping with a co-worker on my first day, so I suggested that we leave, before it got too late or we got too drunk. I walked her to the door of the bar, where we exchanged another handshake and smile before we parted ways.

Over the next few months, our flirting became more bold and frequent. At first, it was small... Michelle would send me an e-mail laced with innuendos, I'd wink at her when nobody was looking, minor stuff like that.

Then it escalated to stuff like talking dirty through instant messages and groping when people weren't looking. It never went any further from there, though. I wasn't sure if it was because of some underlying fear of jeopardizing my job, or if she was all flirt and no fuck, but it looked like we had plateaued.

Everything changed one Saturday in August.

I came into work on the weekend, because I was neck-deep in work with finalizing a national Christmas promotion. I was swamped. After tackling my mountain of work for a couple of hours, I had a headache and needed a break.

Instead of going downstairs to the cafe, I opted to save time by getting a drink from the machine in the break room. While I sat there, looking at the view from the window and rubbing my temples, I heard a noise.

It was coming from the sea of cubicles where all of the work stations for all of the Sales Field Representatives were. I was used to hearing noises in the office on the weekends. The cleaning crew was normally there around this time, and security would make regular rounds. But this noise wasn't of footsteps or a whirring vacuum cleaner... somebody was looking through someone's desk.

Suspecting an office thief, I decided to investigate. I stood on my tiptoes and peered over the tops of the rows of cubicles. I spotted one towards the center with its desk lights on. I quietly made my way down the aisle, making sure I didn't scare the perpetrator away.

When I got to the occupied cubicle, I nervously turned to see who was inside, wondering who I'd have to report. It was Michelle.

Her back was to me, bent over as she combed through a drawer. She wasn't in her usual business attire today. She had on one of those black tank-top style shirts with the thin straps and some deliciously short shorts. From my view, I got a good look at her perfect ass and long, strong legs... I was enjoying it quite thoroughly when I suddenly remembered that I may have just busted her stealing from a co-worker.

I cleared my throat and she spun around, startled. "Oh! Ken! Don't fucking do that! You scared the shit out of me!" She gasped and pressed a hand to her heaving chest.

I had to fight the urge to stare at her tits. Today, there were no jackets, sweaters, or any other articles from her usual work wardrobe to hide them. Her shirt could barely contain them, and bits of black lace from her bra peered up over the edge.

I tried to stay focused. "Michelle, what are you doing?"

She let out a sigh, still relieved that it was just me. "I had the fun task of firing Chelsea yesterday," she said sarcastically. "I have to retrieve her work and get this workspace cleared out for a new hire that starts Monday." She shot me a curious look and asked, "What are YOU doing here?"

I slumped into the chair at the desk and grumbled about the work I had to try and finish.

"So do you come dressed like THAT every time you have to clean out someone's desk?" I asked, nodding at her revealing outfit.

She laughed. "I'm taking a prospective client to the Outside Lands Festival over in Golden Gate Park later, and he's a guy, sooooo..."

I nodded, indicating that I understood. All bait for a potential sale. I should have guessed. I clamped my eyes shut and massaged the bridge of my nose. My headache wasn't getting any better.

Michelle looked over at me as she worked. "Poor thing. Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked in her most sultry voice. And so our usual flirting began... or so I thought.

I chuckled and said "Yeah, a blow job and some aspirin would be AWESOME."

She paused and flashed a grin at me.

"What?" I asked.

She got on her knees before me, pushed my knees apart and slid in as she said, "I don't have any aspirin, but I can help with the blow job."

I laughed, waiting for her to stand back up and continue her work... but she didn't. Her hands slowly slid up my thighs as she locked eyes with me.

"You're serious?" I asked, astonished that this was actually happening. She didn't answer. Her grin just got bigger.

She slid her chest against my stiffening cock as she lifted my shirt and kissed my stomach. She looked up at me, grinning and biting her lip, as her hands undid my belt and zipper. She tugged my pants and boxers down, freeing my rigid member from its restraints, sliding her hand up and down it while licking her lips.

She said, "Mmmm... I wanted to do this the first time I saw you in that conference room," just before dragging her tongue up the underside. When her tongue hit the head, it made my cock twitch right into her waiting lips, and she plunged her mouth down completely to the base, sucking me greedily and never taking her eyes off me.

Even though her mouth was fully stuffed with my cock, I could tell she was smiling at me. She knew how good of a cocksucker she was, and she knew I was getting off on the slurps and muffled moans she was letting out.

Suddenly, she stopped. She popped my cock out of her mouth, leaned back, and pressed her tits together.

"You like my titties, don't you... I catch you staring all the time." I nodded in approval and she pulled her shirt over her head and undid her bra, letting them fall free.

They looked even bigger without her bra. They must have been a 36 or 38 DD. She leaned back in, resting her gorgeous globes on my thighs, pressing them into my dick. She took my cock back in her hand and started teasing her erect nipples with the head, smearing her own spit from her expert blow job all over them.

She dropped her free hand below, out of my sight, and I knew that she had her it in her panties, teasing her pussy with it while she teased her tits with my cock.

Then, she leaned back over me and eased her mouth back down onto me. She was really enjoying having me in her mouth while she fingered herself into climax after delicious climax.

I grabbed a handful of her blond mane, clearing it away from her face so I could watch those lips work, and so I could fuck her face. I slid my cock in and out of her mouth, occasionally pushing it to the back of her throat, making her gag.

Right when I thought I was going to cum in her mouth, she pulled me out and pushed my cock to her chest, wrapping her tits around it. She slid them up and down my pole, fucking me with her melons.

Her saliva that coated my cock made the perfect lube. Her warm, soft titflesh engulfing my hard-on felt amazing. She had quit watching my face so she could watch the head of my cock pop in and out of the top of her cleavage.

"Oh yeah, fuck my tits..." she kept saying while bouncing up and down. Just as I'd start to dry out, she'd spit on my cock or give it a quick sucking to get it slick again, and then bury it back between her boobs. She really knew what she was doing.

Just as I was thinking "I wonder how good she is at fucking with other parts of her body," I felt that familiar tightening in my balls that told me that I was about to shoot a very big load.

"I'm gonna cum..." I signaled to her.

Judging by her behavior, I was sure that Michelle shared my tit fetish and would want it on her chest, but she immediately shoved my cock back into her mouth and took it as deep as she could.

The sensation of her mouth taking me in was enough to push me to the edge, and I started pumping her mouth full of jizz. She gobbled my load, not missing a drop, gulping each warm jet down as it shot out of me.

I fought to keep my moans quiet, to avoid getting caught. It was very hard.

Once she had guzzled most of my cum, she started bobbing up and down on my cock and squeezing my balls, making me shudder and forcing out the last drops. She didn't take her mouth off me until she had sucked every last bit of cum out of me and my cock had started to go limp.

When she finished, she let my cock fall out of her mouth and smiled at me.

"Feel better now?" she asked.

I laughed... anybody that didn't feel better after that could only be a corpse, and surprisingly, my headache WAS gone.

We composed ourselves and put our clothes back on, and simultaneously remembered where we were. In our lust, we had forgotten that other people could be around.

We exchanged a nervous glance and looked over the top of the cubicle... nobody. If anyone was around, they weren't now. We both exhaled in relief.

She latched onto me and we shared a passionate kiss, then she broke loose and started to walk away.

I was confused. "Where are you going?" I asked.

"Client to meet... Outside Lands Festival... remember?" she shouted over her shoulder. She spun around and walked backwards as she said "Don't worry, I'll see you on Monday." Then she blew me a kiss and continued toward the elevator.

When Monday morning came, I began sifting through my e-mails, as was my custom. Amid all of the important e-mails that I should have jumped to, two stood out from all the rest: ones from Michelle.

There was no subject on the first one, and all it said was: "If you're ever working hard on the weekend again, let me know if I can help in any way. ;)" The next one had "PS" in the subject line and said, "But don't tell Raj or you'll be working it yourself."