The days and weeks following my afternoon with Jennifer at her house were like my rebirth as a man. The middle age funk that had plagued me for the past several years melted away and I was a new person. I felt like I was 18 again. Hell, I even started having spontaneous erections simply thinking about the time spent with her. I had believed that those "thought boners" were truly a thing of the past for me. I assumed that they were basically something for the youngsters, but now I found myself at work with a bulge in my pants that made me afraid that someone would ask me to come to a quick meeting and I would have to say, "In a minute." Things would get even crazier as the days progressed towards Christmas and beyond. I would soon learn that Jenny was like no other woman I had ever known.
Arriving back in the office after leaving her house, I was expecting a lot of questions and a third degree from my secretary as to where I'd been all day. She only asked how my meeting went. I answered that the meeting moved into lunch, and that I was sorry I was getting back later than expected. I figured she'd never back-check my comments, and even if my client from the morning said anything in passing, I'd just say that lunch part of the meeting was with a second client. Actually, I was a bit surprised at how easy it had been to disappear for several hours of bedroom joy with Jennifer. Was that a good thing? Not being missed that badly? I wasn't going to dwell on it. I was just walking on pillows and had a hard time containing myself. It almost felt like the night I lost my virginity the summer before I left for college.
I wasn't sure how I'd feel walking into the house that evening. There's a long standing Hollywood cliché that after an encounter such as mine with Jenny, somebody can just look at you and say, "Hey, you've been having sex haven't you?" That obviously didn't happen. I walked in, poured my usual Chivas over two ice cubes, and started to glance through the paper before dinner. Part of me hated myself for what I had done, but another felt like maybe this was what I had needed to make me feel alive again. The thing that surprised me, and perhaps frightened me a little, was how easy it had all been. Nobody from my secretary to Ellen seemed to have a clue.
It wasn't long into Thursday morning at the office when the phone rang. It was Jenny. "Good morning, Uncle Mike. How are you doing? Was everything OK yesterday when you got back and went home?"
I told her that all was well, and that I was dancing on cloud nine just thinking about it. "Me too," she said. "It was so fantastic. I keep thinking about how sexy it was when you licked my pussy on the kitchen table; how much I loved feeling you inside me and smelling your cum all over me; how good you tasted. I had been thinking about you all morning yesterday, and couldn't wait to see how it would feel to have you penetrate me. Last night, I could smell us when I got in bed. I got out my vibrator and pretended you were with me again. I spread my legs and played with myself till I came. I put my vibrator in me, and remembered you on top of me fucking me like an animal. I remembered how you fucked me on my hands and knees had fucked me in both my holes. It made me feel so good to know you wanted me so much. I was starting to feel like I couldn't make a man need me like that anymore."
God knows that I'm no prude, but frankly, I was tad shocked to hear her talking dirty to me like this on the phone at ten in the morning. I mean, I had known girls in college who would get a little heated up while you were having sex and could let out a few "Fuck me, that feels so good," type comments. Ellen used to be able to lay out some interesting remarks when she'd get a little heated up and say things to me like, "Lick my pussy. I love it when you lick my pussy. Stick it in me." But I've never had a woman just talking like this in on the phone in broad daylight, at least not one that you didn't have to pay $4 a minute. My cock was so damned hard I thought it would break my zipper. I kept looking out the door of the office at my secretary while she typed orders and invoices into her computer oblivious to the conversation I was having. Thank God she didn't pick up my extension.
"Uncle Mike," she asked. "I want you to tell me what made you the most happy? What more can I do to really turn you on and satisfy you?"
I asked her to wait while I closed the door to the office. When I got up to slink to the door, I prayed that my secretary didn't look in and see the bulge in my pants. I picked the phone back up again and told her, "Jenny, the whole time was so fucking hot and everything we did just keeps playing through my head and making me hard constantly. I thought I was going to have a heart attack when you just dropped your panties in the kitchen to show me your trimmed pussy. Then, when you came and gushed all over my legs, I was fucking amazed. I had never been with anyone that did that. I just loved it, not to mention when you got up on the bed, spread open and told me I could do anything I wanted to you. I didn't tell you, but that spread open crotch pose with you offering yourself up to me is something that just drove me wild."
"Ummmm, I love hearing that Uncle Mike. I can't wait to be with you again. When can we do it again? Soon?"
"I wish I could come over all the time," I said, "but it's only a little over two weeks till Christmas, and it might be tough with all the work here and stuff at home."
"Yeah," she replied. "I don't think Keith has any multi-night trips scheduled before Christmas. He just said he'd be in town pulling a lot of stuff together in the office before the holiday. I really can't wait to see you again. I hope it's not too long."
I agreed with her and told her that I hoped that Keith's job activities wouldn't prevent them from coming to our house on Christmas Day. She told me there was no way that at least she wouldn't be there. Then I told her I'd have to talk to her later because I had someone coming for a meeting in about ten minutes. We hung up and I just sat there thinking about the things she had said on the phone. I had always wished Ellen could do that, talk about sexy erotic things just for fun. It would be so great if she could call me at work with that sort of thing, but it's never happened in a score of years. The thing that amazed me is that Jenny could do it like it was second nature. She was so relaxed and uninhibited that it didn't seem at all "slutty". It just sounded like two people talking about their sexual feelings and needs like it was no big deal. The difference I suppose was that the topics and language were so graphic and a bit "improper" on my office phone that it made it so fucking erotic.
Jenny called again the next day to talk. There was a moment of panic when my secretary interrupted in the middle of it to tell me my boss needed to see me ASAP. Fortunately, we weren't saying anything really hot at the time, but still it made me nervous. That's when I suggest that we might have to watch our phone conversations. She asked if she could e-mail, but I didn't want that sort of mail coming to my company account. She agreed that it wouldn't be good to have it in her mail box at home either. We decided to get anonymous accounts with one of the free services. That way, we could control who might have direct access to our electronic banter. Over the next couple of weeks, our e-mail would have made a horny sailor in a whore house blush. She'd go on about what we had done together that first time and the sorts of things she couldn't wait to do with me; how she couldn't help to wrap her mouth around my hot hard cock or to wash my face with her soaking cunt. I'd tell her that all I'd been able to think of all morning was burying my face in her fragrant crotch or slide my cock into her welcoming cunt hole. The dirty talk was giving my middle-aged dick a wake-up call.
One day about three days before Christmas, I got a message from her with the title, "open when alone". I closed the office door before double clicking on her mail. The message simply read, "An early Christmas present for my Uncle Mike. Enjoy." There were two attached .jpg files. The first was titled, "My Gift for Uncle Mike". The second was called, "Wish You Were Here". I clicked on the first. It was a picture of Jenny, stark naked, with her legs open and knees up in what I had told her was my favorite "beaver shot" pose. She had on one of those Venetian style masks used at the pre-Lent "Carnevale" masquerade balls. It looked like a doll's face with a plume of feathers out of the top. She was also wearing a red Santa Clause hat. However, there was no question that it was Jenny even though I had only seen her sweet trimmed pussy up close and personal that one day. Besides, I could see that she had used a mirror to take the picture because part of her bedroom was reflected in the background. Her left hand was disappearing off the image, and it was pretty clear that she was using it to hold the camera since was also a bit of a flash aura in the corner. Rather than distracting from the image, its authenticity made it that much more sexy. This was no professional model set up to appear like an amateur. This indeed was an amateur, and one that I had the joy of knowing in the biblical sense. My growing erection made it necessary to adjust it in my pants so it was pointed up and not all bent backwards. I clicked on the second attachment. It was basically the same pose with her penis-shaped vibrator halfway into her lady-hole. My erection was in full hard-on mode and I couldn't help rubbing a little through my pants. I felt like I wanted to jerk off right there, but knew that was an absolute no-no. The in-office taboo made me extra horny.
I quickly closed the image in case someone barged in. There was another message from her in the queue and I clicked to open it. "Dear Uncle Mike. Hope you liked seeing my Christmas presents as much as I enjoyed making them. It made me so hot while I was doing them to think that when you saw them, your hand would be in your pants. Please tell me I'm right. When I was finished taking them and sending them off to you, I had to use the apparatus in the second picture to get myself off. Too bad it wasn't the real you. xoxo J. PS Call me so I can hear you panting. LOL!"
I picked up the phone and dialed her number. When she answered, all I said was, "The answer is 'yes', you had me putting my hands where they shouldn't be during office hours. However, I don't think playing with myself in my office is a good idea. I won't say what might happen later. Jenny, your pictures were so fucking sexy. I can't believe you did that."
She giggled, "I LOVED doing them for you because I loved thinking about what they would do to you. You told me how you love looking at women posed like that. Now I know why women become strippers or post pictures like that on the internet. It's one super rush to think that some guy is out there looking at you and wanting you."
