If the above is not for you then please do not read, as you are in no way forced to now that you know what it contains. Just because I write about this subject, does not mean I condone it in any way outside of fantasy. And, as for those people who sent me threatening feedback then, all I have to say is that, despite this warning, you seem as compelled to read my stories as those people who openly admit to enjoying them. Enough said!
Remember the difference between fantasy and reality is as fundamental as the difference between right and wrong.
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She could sense a figure walking towards her. Debbie Fielding had been watching him all day, as she always did, and now he was approaching her. John Denton, the one man in the office she would die for. What could he possibly want with her? Debbie knew what she hoped he wanted, but that was the substance of dreams, or was it?
She could feel his body invade her space as the aroma of his aftershave made her heady. In an attempt to remain cool Debbie risked ignoring him completely, but he was single minded in his quest to make contact.
"Meet me in two minutes, in the filing room between rows L and M."
Debbie looked up, puzzled. He looked down, smiling.
"I want you, now, it's that simple." With that he was away, walking past her desk leaving his scent lingering in Debbie's nostrils. For a few seconds Debbie was dazed. Then, almost as if in a trance, she got up and followed in his tracks.
After opening the door and descending the flight of old stone stairs, Debbie found herself in the dimly lit filing room. Row after row of old files. There was no one around. Nervously she peered down the long dark passage between rows L and M. No one. She was already horny from the thoughts of what she would do with Emma this evening. This little escapade had made her shake with lust.
As Debbie began to walk slowly down the dark alleyway a pair of lingering eyes watched her tall, tanned, tawny body glide as if on air. The same eyes drank in the sight of her long bare legs and lovely hips wrapped in a loose, short, very short, black skirt. She also wore a tight fitting yellow top with three quarter sleeves that hugged her firm breasts.
Suddenly from nowhere a hand clamped over her mouth. Debbie tried to scream but couldn't.
"You look more like a fucking cheer leader than a Personal Assistant to the Divisional Manager, you little whore."
Debbie was shocked at the language used by John, but his hand remained tight over her mouth. He felt her body relax as he cupped her bottom from behind. Releasing her mouth he spoke.
"Do you want me?" he questioned simply. Debbie turned her face and kissed him. Their tongues mixed as mutual passion overtook them. Breaking away momentarily Debbie gasped,
"Are we safe in here, what if some one comes?"
"Oh, someone will, but we're quite safe," he laughed. John moved his lips onto her neck. She sighed. His left hand moved up and cupped her breast, feeling her nipple become erect under his touch. Debbie groaned and pushed herself into him. He gripped her hair and pulled hard. Again she would have screamed had it not been for the tongue in her mouth.
For a brief moment her body went rigid as his hand stroked the cleft between her bottom cheeks, exposed by the red thong she was wearing. But Debbie soon relaxed as his finger crept under the lacy material and began to stroke her wet slit.
"Oh, feel how wet I am," she groaned wantonly. John pushed his invading digit further home and Debbie squealed with delight. One became two and then three as he ploughed deep within her soaking cunt. Debbie was on fire now, gyrating her bottom against his trousers under which his erect cock strained.
"Oh, yesssssssssss," she hissed. John's free hand yanked her hair harder and she writhed under his touch.
"I'm com… com… comingggggggggggg!" she whispered loudly, still aware of where they were. Then she came, covering his fingers with a copious amount of thick juice.
Gradually she came to rest and slumped, tired, against his body. He removed his fingers from her now sensitive slit and wiped them on her yellow top.
"Hey," Debbie objected, it's only two in the afternoon, I have to work again in these clothes."
John laughed at the thought of Debbie returning to her seat smelling of her own juices. She reached down and adjusted her panties, peeling them out from between her pussy lips. Straightening her skirt she made to leave. Walking away from John she turned her head flirtatiously, and beamed a radiant smile.
"Thanks," she said. John smiled back. Debbie reached the end of the aisle and turned to head for the door.
"Whoa there, slow down," it was Dave Fenwick, John's mate.
"Do me a favour love, I need to get a file from G, get me this from L will you. Debbie was so aware of her recent orgasm, that she was sure he would smell her.
"Er, yes, yes of course," she stammered pleased to get away from him. She returned down the corridor from where she had come.
"It's Dave," she muttered to John, "he wants this file."
"Better get it then," replied John.
Debbie was a little upset at his dismissive reaction but nonetheless she began to climb the ladder to the top shelf moving carefully from one step to the next. With each step she could sense the increased focus on her bottom. Turning her head she looked down and saw both John and Dave staring up her skirt at the gorgeous tanned flesh at the top of Debbie's luscious thighs.
"What the fuck….." she asked. The two men just smiled.
"Come down," said John firmly. Somewhat reluctantly and with no-where else to go, Debbie descended. Upon reaching ground level she was grabbed by John, who kissed her hard. Debbie felt her lustful feelings rise once more and she kissed him back. Dave stood behind her. She felt him raise her short skirt and cup her buttocks. Her struggles were muffled by John's kiss and his tight grip on the back of her head, as Dave slipped her thong to one side. With little ceremony Debbie's wet cunt was filled by Dave's erect cock. She peeled her mouth away from John.
"No, please, not like this, please. Oohhhhhh.." She was fucked, hard, from behind by Dave. He pulled her yellow top free of her skirt and moved his hands under the fabric, cupping and feeling her firm breasts. Debbie moaned as she was raped in the filing corridor.
"Fuck me you bitch," spat Dave as her rode her. Then he squeezed her breasts painfully and came, shooting his massive load into her. He rammed his cock home until he had filled her. Then he withdrew. Debbie fell to her knees. Taking his cock in his hands Dave wiped the stringy residue of semen into her hair. Debbie couldn't stop him.
