Pregnant Mother Office Slut

2006 -- Making an Office Slut

I'll never forget seeing Sandra in the lobby while I was headed to the office. We'd gone to college together and became close friends while in the sorority, but lost touch after living so far apart. Keep in mind, those were the days before social media and mass communication.

She looked like a more refined version of herself from college. The slight shyness she had was still there, being a booksmart girl never really goes away, only now she's professionally dressed in a suit and matching heels. She was the same sweet girl on the inside, but her outside appearance had taken on a new level of sophistication.

"Hey, remember me?"

When she looked in my direction, it took her a few seconds to register my appearance, then a smile beamed across her face and she gave me a hug. The same as ever, but now her affection was geared towards a corporate setting.

"God, I can't believe it's you. It's been so long."

"Yeah, I was just headed to my office when I somehow recognized you. Lovely outfit by the way. Based on your nervous tension, you're new here."

"It's my first day on the job and I was taking a moment to admire the grandeur of this lobby."

"Come on, I'll buy you coffee. We have so much catching up to do."

We had about 20 minutes for a quick cup of coffee and we sat and talked fast. There was so much enthusiasm between us. The chemistry never left. When you're close friends with a person, it never does.

Sandra explained that she was re-entering the workforce after having finalized a divorce. She has a wealth of experience as a paralegal and a number of connections in the city, which was how she got a job at this place.

At the end of our quick chat, we exchanged phone numbers and made plans for lunch. I gave her pointers on how to succeed at this place, things about company culture and who to befriend and who to avoid. We worked in different departments but I knew everyone.

I accompanied Sandra to her floor and felt happy for her. Her enthusiasm was genuine. When we went our separate ways that morning, I remember sitting in my office wondering how much she knew about this place. Yes, there's prestige, importance, and the salaries are generous. But she's an attractive woman who's just the type for prominent men.

In the weeks that followed I'd come to the conclusion that she had no idea what this place was truly about. There was a certain naivety whenever she talked about her job. I'd ask questions in vague generalities about certain people and she'd give candid remarks. Nothing to suggest that she has any inside knowledge.

The following year, which was right before the big financial crash, our company went through a series of restructuring to eliminate a layer of bureaucracy. A number of middle-managers were removed and Sandra got herself a nice promotion working in the office of Mr. Goldman and reporting directly to him.

Under normal circumstances, that would be a thing to celebrate, but the problem was that Goldman's office was far from normal. I wondered if it was just a coincidence or if she was specifically chosen, because after all, she's their type. Smart. Attractive. Hard working. They have a particular fetish for breaking in women like her.

I've always had a great working relationship with Mr. Goldman so I went to his office and inquired, days before Sandra was scheduled to work there. Men like him are always upfront. I have to respect that.

"Yes, that's exactly what we're planning," he said.

"Does she know?"

"Not yet. I was going to have my secretary give Sandra a briefing. If she has any further questions, I'd be happy to explain."

"I can talk to Sandra if you want."

"Why?"

"I've known her since college. We're actually good friends and she's an amazing person."

He smiled, "Yeah, I like that. Talk to her. Let me know how it goes."

I smiled back, wondering how I'd explain to Sandra that I'm part of what happens behind closed doors. Or open doors, depending on how you look at it.

We had lunch the next day, a French bistro on the lower floor serving gourmet steak and fries, and I requested that we be seated by the window. More room for privacy for our personal conversation, one that could potentially shatter our friendship.

"What do you know about Mr. Goldman and that office?" I asked.

"Not much, actually. He's on a different floor. Never met him. I've heard he's strict."

"So no one told you anything?"

"Nope. I'm supposed to get an orientation next week."

"From the secretary, right?"

"Yeah, I have a meeting with the secretary, why?"

"There are many secrets at this institution," I said. "People work long hours. Lots of stress. Certain men expect perks. That includes pay and accommodations. And for women like us, that means we'll have to suck a dick. Here and there."

She nearly spat her food out. I did my best to keep my voice down, hoping she'd do the same. There were colleagues around having lunch and the wait staff was attending to people.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard that correctly. Mr. Goldman expects to have his dick sucked."

"By me?"

"Yes, since you'll be working there. I know it's difficult to hear. The higher you climb in the corporate ladder, the more that's expected of you."

"That's sexual harassment."

"It's a generous paycheck. It's endless letters of recommendations. It's also great orgasms. Do you miss getting fucked? Do you want someone eating your pussy? Those things can happen. Discreetly. You just have to keep an open mind."

"This job was too good to be true."

Sandra put her elbows on the table and buried her face in her hands. She wasn't crying, but she was close. The job meant everything to her. It meant career growth and the ability to start a new life after a messy divorce. It was also a way of supporting her son, who was still in college at the time.

"I'll think about it," she said.

Her voice was soft and tender, with her face still buried in her hands. I rubbed her shoulder and leaned toward her ear. No one else needed to hear this. It was a private conversation between friends about the intricacies of work life.

"Give it a try. I'll join you the first time. If it's not your thing, then leave. I'll make sure you get a nice recommendation letter to work anywhere in the city, okay?"

"Thank you."

She seemed devastated at the moment and I felt certain she was going to quit and never return and never speak to me again.

Instead, the opposite happened. The diligent girl I knew from college had returned and Sandra was calling me at night, asking questions about how the system worked. It reminded me so much of our study groups in the sorority. She was always the smart one. Always destined for big things. In fact she told me weeks earlier that she almost became a lawyer but stopped to devote time to her then-husband and starting a family.

Her ambition started to shine. She wanted to know who the power players were, their personalities, and if they were involved with the corporate secret. Most were, to be frank.

And if I were honest about the situation, I've long had the suspicion that Sandra hadn't received a good fucking in a while. Not from her ex-husband, not from anybody. She had that rigid edge about her. In college she was vanilla and that carried over to her professional life. Some things never change.

Sure, I'd guided lots of women into the corporate lifestyle before, but that was always business. This is personal. In college, Sandra was like a sister to me. She was like my younger, nerdy sister. Now I was mentioning her in matters of sex.

It was Monday late afternoon when it finally happened. Because she was new to the lifestyle, I made sure things were on Sandra's terms and she requested a private affair, which meant she wanted to do it when most people left.

We went to Mr. Goldman's office when the time was right. The few still around probably knew what this was about. There were only two reasons Mr. Goldman saw women alone; blowjobs or fucking.

Sandra wasn't as nervous as I had expected. Instead she was kind of anxious, as if this were a job interview. They shook hands and made formal introductions. The more they talked, the harder Sandra breathed, with upright posture and her chin held high. If she was going to do this, it would be from a position of strength rather than weakness.

We got on our knees while Mr. Goldman stood. The whole thing was pre-planned, I'd talked this over with Sandra about what the boss liked and disliked. She was prepared and knew exactly what to expect.

When she undid the boss's pants, a semi-erect penis flopped out and she looked at me, then she looked at the penis with wide-eyes. It was the first time she'd ever done anything in the office setting or in front of another person. I got the impression that this secretly excited her.

She wanted to finish early so she grabbed the shaft and took it inside her mouth. That was the moment everything changed. Sandra was no longer the same woman that I knew back in college, she wasn't even the same woman I saw in the lobby a few months earlier. This became the new version of Sandra, the one willing to embrace her sexuality for the sake of pleasure and career advancements.

I leaned in closer to get a better view of her sucking. This was something she prepared for, and when Mr. Goldman came, she wrapped her lips tight and accepted everything that followed. Sandra would never have allowed me to watch this back in college.

When she finished, she stuck her tongue out and looked Mr. Goldman in the eyes. The cum looked so good dripping from her mouth. It was her first slutty act.

That was how it all started. Watching her blossom into an office slut was a joy. Many women are swift to fall to their knees for a promotion or benefits. Even being submissive to powerful men is an aphrodisiac to them.

But what made Sandra so intoxicating to watch was that her submissive side was different. It conflicted with her vanilla attitude. That gradual turn was intriguing to observe, seeing her get bolder and bolder. Going pantyless beneath her skirt. Getting under the desk during office hours to blow her boss. The pinnacle was her working naked during overtime hours. Those memories will never be forgotten.

2012 -- A Modern Housewife

By this point, the corporation had recovered after the economic collapse years earlier and things were on a stable footing. Finances were balanced and office politics was more relaxed. The erections of male bosses had returned to full strength after turbulent years of stress which caused their organs to have mixed results. The 'great softening,' as many women in the office had called it.

Sandra had been laid off along with the division she'd been working for, but I pulled some strings to get her son hired and promoted. It was my gesture of gratitude for Sandra and all that she'd done. Nonetheless, her son had the right credentials in finances and we're always looking for bright young talent.

I'd gotten more good news when I was showing Brian -- her son -- to his new office. I was waiting for the right time to tell him.

As I led him towards the desk, I watched as his eyes widened in amazement. The spacious room was lined with sleek, modern furniture, and the walls were adorned with tasteful art pieces. Sunlight flooded through the large windows, casting a warm glow.

"Your own private space," I said. "Look at this view. Incredible."

He couldn't believe his luck. "Absolutely incredible. Thank you so much. This is a dream."

"You've earned it."

I showed him around the office, explaining the different amenities and features, including the state-of-the-art computer and high-tech phone system. He seemed eager to get started and I couldn't help but feel proud of him.

"This is amazing," he said.

"Wait until you hear the next surprise. Your mother is being fast tracked to be rehired. There are more openings and she'll be given seniority for a paralegal job."

His smile was so broad. "Does she know that already?"

"I actually called her this morning, so yeah, she knows."

"That's great news and also hilarious at the same time. I guess we'll be commuting to work together."

"And also sharing the same office."

"What do you mean?"

I tap the desk. "Your mother will become your paralegal. She'll work for you. You'll be her boss."

"Wow, does she know that?"

"Yes, and she was taken aback by that news. She also thought it was awkward but she's thankful to be working here again. After a while, she saw the bright side of it. You and your mother are about to become extremely close."

"I'm incredibly grateful for what you've done for us."

"The pleasure is all mine. Just don't tell anyone about this, you know, the mom/son thing. People will accuse me of being biased, which I am."

"Our secret. You're the best."

"What are friends for?"

I meant what I said, that it was a favor between friends, but I wondered if Sandra would return to form. If she'd become the office slut again and let me watch her self-expression. We'd talked about that on the phone and she was open to the idea, but was hesitant doing anything provocative around her son. I understood.

So that was our pact with each other. We kept it a secret that Sandra and Brian were mother/son to avoid unnecessary drama and office politics. We also didn't want people gossiping that Sandra was an office slut with her son nearby.

What happened a few weeks later was something that changed our lives forever.

I had lunch with women from my department, and when we returned to the office, a few of them noticed something about Sandra that piqued their interest. There was a particular glow she had when leaving the supply room with her son. The women noticed that right away. Beneath their breath they whispered amongst themselves.

"Well those two clearly had sex."

"Couldn't they have gotten a room?"

"I've heard they're related. Can you believe it?"

None of them knew they were mother/son. None of them knew about office politics and sexual favors. So to them, this was something vile. Their tone bordered on disgust as Sandra looked ahead and walked away while fixing her outfit and having a hitch in her step.

I chimed into the conversation. "Oh stop that, they aren't related. Sandra had a minor back injury and she's taking medication. That's why she's walking like that."

Of course, that was a lie, but they believed it. I managed to convince the women that their instincts were wrong. They looked ashamed for making such lewd comments. They changed the subject before going back to work.

But women have strong instincts about sex and I knew they were right. Sandra's glow was unmistakable. The hitch in her step was undeniable.

She'd been fucked by her son.

That recognition consumed the rest of my day. I was like a zombie going into a meeting, thinking about what she'd done. And I was sure, too. There was no doubt about it. My assumption was that Sandra filled that lustful void in her heart with something closer to home, so to speak.

In the days that followed, I debated with myself whether to inquire about it or not. My main issue was respecting her privacy, but in the end, I was just too curious. What they were doing was so deviant that I had to know more. What could possess a good woman like her to do such a thing? Plus this was technically within the purview of my job. I'm expected to look after the well-being of all employees and ensure social cohesion.

The best way to approach things was straight forward. When she was alone in the office doing clerical work, I walked inside and closed the door.

"So, you and Brian, what's going on there?"

She stopped what she was doing, looked at me and gave a concocted answer about how things were going great. That things had been awkward at first but she found the humor in it.

I wasn't going to let her dodge the question, so I asked again, but in a different way. This time with an icy glare to accompany my statement.

"The other day I saw you leaving the supply room with your son."

She froze for a moment, then nodded. "You're right."

"God, that's so fucking wild."

"It's a long story. Do you have time?"

"For this, I have all the time in the world."

Sandra texted her son to give us privacy for a while, then we sat on the couch and held hands while facing each other. It was a reminder of our sisterly bond.

"I've never told anyone about this," she said.

"You can trust me."

"I know. Goodness, how did I get myself into this mess?"

Sandra gave a self-deprecating laugh as she hung her head down and rubbed her face. Her shame was apparent. Committing incest was something that rattled her.

I stroked her hair. "Did your son pressure you into doing this?"

"No, no, don't blame him."

"Then how did it start?"

"Dave from the HR department hinted to my son about my past. Of course, Dave didn't know that Brian is my son, he just wanted to gossip and talk about sex."

"Fucking asshole. I'll deal with him later for violating company policy."

"Please do," she said. "Anyway, my son told me about that conversation and I admitted it. I've always been a big believer in complete honesty in our relationship. Especially since we live alone together. I didn't mention everything all at once. It came out gradually and Brian was accepting of my past, even a little curious about it."

"What did you tell him?"

"Eventually I told him everything."

For some reason, that made my cunt twitch and turn wet. This was uncharted territory. Seeing the look of confusion on Sandra's face, knowing this made her both regretful and horny was satisfying to see.

"Everything?"

"Yes, everything," she replied. "The naked office play when we worked overtime. The blowjobs. The sex. Eventually I told him everything."

"Why?"

"Because I felt submissive to Brian since he became my boss. An old habit. It was my way of coping with my son having a higher job title than me, that I'm now beneath him. Because he was interested in my sexual life and the things I'd done. Because it made me feel special."

"Did it make you wet?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"God, this is wild," I said.

"You must think of me as a terrible slut."

"Well, you did fuck your son."

There was a short pause and we laughed and her face turned red. As ashamed as Sandra was, she also seemed thankful to have a friend to confide in, someone who wouldn't judge her, but would instead try to understand what she was going through.

"Please don't tell anyone," she said.

"Never. But my promise comes with a condition. You have to let me watch sometimes."

Sandra was taken aback. "You're kidding."

"Nope. Once a month, at least. You pick the schedule."

At that moment, we both knew she'd become the office slut once again. She had the same expression as when she'd sucked off Mr. Goldman all those years ago. Only this time, it's with her son. Her own biological son.

In the meantime I enjoyed observing them interact in the office. There were little tells which gave it away, small things, like Sandra lowering her eyes in obedience after talking to her son. She'd never done that before with previous bosses. Her body language was more submissive toward him. The opposite was true for Brian, who seemed to have a surge in confidence since this started.

A week later Sandra approached me with the offer. She entered my office carrying a stack of papers from something else she was doing.

"Do you want to watch?" she asked.

A random question without context, but I knew what she meant, even though her tone and posture were professional. Come to think of it, there was a slight shakiness to her voice. Nervousness.

"I'm assuming Brian knows about this."