Author's Note: This story is based on a series of true incidents. Names and location have been changed for obvious reasons. All persons in this story are over the age of 18. Literotica is the only site that has my permission to post this story (and subsequent chapters).
At just 30, Matt Cooper was still young to be a manager. It was more his people skills than his experience that had landed him the Director of Operations position at the engineering firm. Matt stood just over 6', his body slender and toned from daily workouts at the gym. Dark brown hair framed his handsome, angular face, setting off his brilliant blue eyes. Heads, male and female, turned when he walked by. Matt never felt he had to lord it over the people under his supervision. He was one of those rare animals that actually believed in team work, not just paid lip service to it. However, the kind of team work he was thinking about as he waited for the elevator to take him to the underground parking lot was not one normally considered for the work place.
His cock was still raging hard as he entered the elevator, thankful that no one else was around. As the polished chrome doors whispered shut, he slid his hand into his pocket, grabbing his hard rod through the thin fabric and squeezing it. He knew that he had smelt hot pussy in Joan's office. What had she been doing to get the scent that strong?
He knew that she usually spent her lunch hours in her office when everyone else seemed to go out. Although she was almost 10 years older than him, Matt still thought his assistant was pretty hot. While he'd never really fantasized about her, he was still attracted enough to wonder what she'd be like. She dressed just the right side of provocative -- never anything blatant. Little hints, if you cared to look close enough (and Matt cared): nipples hard and outlined against silky blouses, tight, short skirts that accented her ass and high-heels -- not those god-forsaken platform atrocities that were currently in style, but honest-to-god high heels that clicked when she walked. For a woman her age, Matt thought, she was damn fine.
Giving his pocketed cock another squeeze as the doors to the elevator opened, he stepped into the mini-lobby of the parking area. Reluctantly letting his prick go, he fished out his keys and pressed the electronic lock, the sound of the locks in his car opening reverberating throughout the dimly lit underground garage.
He walked quickly to his car, the leather soles of his new brogues causing his steps to echo in the cavernous garage. A grin curved his lips as he saw that Joan's car was parked next to his and he thought how her car reflected his assistant's personality -- older but still flirty without being brash. The '65 Mustang was candy-apple red, the interior white leather. Supposedly it had been left to Joan in a will.
Tossing his briefcase into the backseat of his own car, Matt slid in behind the wheel of his Intrepid. Adjusting the seat so he was leaning back slightly, Matt undid the top button and fly of his silk Armani slacks. His cock tented his boxers and he hurriedly pushed the waistband down, freeing the thick member, groaning softly as the cool air caressed his aching prick. Seeing Joan's car had brought back the memory of the hot scent in her office and his cock had responded immediately.
Matt took a quick glance around the garage then, seeing no one else was about, wrapped his hand around his cock and gently squeezed it, leaning back in his seat as he closed his eyes. His hand slowly stroked the hard shaft; his thumb caressing the tip of his cut prick on each upstroke as he began to picture what had caused the tantalizing scent in Joan's office. In his mind's eye, he pictured his hot assistant sitting back in her chair, stroking her wet pussy, not realizing just how close to the truth his imagination was.
Joan reached for the report her boss had left and skimmed through it, trying desperately to focus on her work. Her pussy had other ideas though and her clit kept throbbing for attention. It had been at least 20 minutes since Mr. Cooper had left her office and she was now regretting her lack of action. She had seen the tent in the front of his slacks and shivered, remembering the size. If her judging skills were half-decent (and they usually were), Mr. Cooper had quite a nice mouthful of cock nestled under that expensive Italian silk. Joan's hand dipped under her desk again, her stocking-clad legs parting, raising her skirt once more. As her fingertips brushed the swollen folds, she groaned. It was no good. She was never going to get any work done today.
Straightening her clothes, Joan grabbed the report and the corresponding files and put them into her briefcase, laying them on top of her "make up" bag. She grinned as she thought of what was in that bag and how she had almost gotten off in front of her boss. Dialing the receptionist, Joan informed her that she wasn't feeling well and was going home for the day. She told the girl at the front that if Matt Cooper called, he was to be given her home number.
Slinging her purse over her shoulder, Joan slipped out of her office, locking it behind her, then headed for the elevator that would take her to the garage. As she waited for the elevator to open, she surveyed herself in the mirrored doors. Her face was slightly flushed and she could clearly see the outline of her hard, pink nipples. The image she saw reflected, coupled with the feel of her pussy juices leaking down the inside of her thighs, made her clit pulse. The doors opened suddenly with a soft whisper, making her jump and breaking her reverie. Stepping inside the empty chamber, she pressed the button for her level, waiting until the doors closed, then brought a hand up to a breast. She watched in the mirrored walls as her fingertip traced the outline of the hard nipple slowly. She groaned and leaned back against a wall, raising her skirt up to bare her wet cunt. Her reflection showed a woman with sticky juices coating the inside of her thighs, darkening her stocking tops and making the plump, pink folds glisten in the harsh fluorescent light. She shivered at the sight, then gave herself a shake. Time enough for that on the way home and when she got there.
Joan was an exhibitionist at heart. Actually, if she were completely honest, she was probably borderline nympho. However, she preferred to think of herself as a woman in her prime with a healthy, albeit very high, sex drive. She was still scolding herself for being cowardly and not taking advantage (or at least trying to) of Mr. Cooper's bewilderment and reaction to the scent of her hot cunt in her office. Then again, this was a good job and she didn't want to lose it. However, there was nothing in the company's policy that stated she couldn't fantasize about her boss. She wondered what he would have done if she'd sat back a bit further and let him see up her skirt to her dripping pussy stuffed with a dildo.
Her high heels clicked as she made her way to her car. No high-tech gadgets had been installed on her baby. It was fully restored as if it had been time-warped off the assembly line in the fall of 1964. All her life, Joan had wanted a classic Mustang. Not the crap that passed for one these days. Then, when her aunt had died, she had been surprised to find that the estate was hers. Her cousin (the drunken, no-good bum) had tried to contest the will, but the judge had decided that Joan was more deserving. Joan had sold off most of the estate, keeping only a few things for mementos. The money she had obtained through the estate sale had netted her enough to purchase the refurbished automobile.
Setting her purse on the trunk of her car, she fished for her keys, frowning as the closest light overhead flickered and then went dark with a small pop. Lifting her head to search for a better light source, a movement in the car next to hers caught her eye. Hmmm...that was Matt Cooper's car and he should have been on the road long ago.
Quietly, she slipped between the two cars, her mouth dropping open and a jolt of sexual electricity charged straight to her clit at the sight that met her eyes. There, leaning back in his car, eyes closed, was her young boss, his hand wrapped around a very thick cock that was dripping copious amounts of pre-cum. Her keys forgotten, Joan leaned back against her car and slid a hand under her skirt, baring her dripping pussy. Joan's green eyes locked on Matt Cooper's hand massaging his rock hard prick, her own fingers rubbing her clit as she watched. As Matt's movements got faster, he started to thrust his hips up, fucking the fist wrapped around his aching meat. Joan's hand matched his rhythm and she let out a small groan, feeling her knees weaken.
Matt Cooper's eyes snapped open as he heard a sound and looked out his window. Oh god! It was Joan! She'd caught him jerking off in his car. How was he ever going to explain this....Wait a second! Matt's hand tightened around his cock as he saw that his assistant had her skirt bunched around her waist and was busy fingering a very wet and swollen cunt.
Joan grinned at him as she saw that his eyes were now open and the watchee had become the watcher. Her lust taking over her better judgement, she slowly pulled her fingers from her snatch, bringing them to her lips, sucking them slowly. Matt Cooper moaned inside his car and his hand started stroking his cock once more. When Joan dipped her hand back to her cunt, then offered the gleaming fingers to him, he felt his cock thicken even more.
