Reginald Harris was nibbling on her ear and blowing his hot breath into the little shell and squeezing her fat tits, and Jayne was getting distinctly uncomfortable.
She was embarrassed, for one thing. There were other people in the room and it was not really proper to get felt up in public.
But what was really making her feel so uncomfortable was the fact that she was enjoying it!
She hated to admit it, but it was true.
Harris was turning her on.
She was a little tipsy, she thought. That was the reason for it. Sober, she would certainly not have started to enjoy his sordid groping. But although it was a reason, it was hardly an excuse. She felt rather cheap.
But other couples were starting to grope and pant together. She was not alone in this.
No wonder the Benson Company office party was so eagerly awaited by the employees!
And what could she do? Harris was her boss – she didn't want to make him angry. And everyone was fooling around – she didn't want to be thought a prude.
As long as he didn't try to go any further…
That was the thing. A little harmless petting, a bit of playful groping – well, they were all sophisticated people. Those things were not out of line. It wasn't as if she were committing an act of infidelity, far from it. And it did feel good. It was nice physically, having this handsome man attend to her, and it was psychologically satisfying to know that she had turned him on to such an extent.
But she was afraid he might attempt to go further… and she wondered just how far she should go.
If he tried to take her into a dark office, should she go? She had no intention of fucking him, certainly – but if he wanted to feel her up in private, was that so wicked? Why, it wasn't really any worse than having him feel her up in public, not at all… it was more modest, if anything.
But would he be willing to settle for a simple feel if he got her alone?
How far could she safely let him go? There was a fine line between fooling around and actually doing something naughty – and also a fine line between angering hint and pleasing him – and she was not sure where she should draw that line. Should she let him put his hand inside her dress and feel her bare titty? Should she let him have a quick feel of pussy… or even let him go so far as to finger fuck her? It was difficult to decide. She was confused both by the morality of it, and by deciding how to make Harris happy without going any further than she had to. The more she let him do, the more excited he was going to get, that much was obvious. And if he got really horny – should she maybe give him a handjob?
That was certainly the most she would do, if that.
But her cunt was steaming now.
Jayne was frightened by her own passion.
She knew it would be better if she could terminate this little game right away.
Perhaps if she left him alone for a moment, he would lose interest without getting angry. He might start fooling around with some other woman.
She considered telling him that she had to go to the bathroom. But then she thought he might follow her in and it would be embarrassing to have to fend him off while she was sitting on the toilet seat, pretending to pee.
She had a better idea.
"What's the time?" she asked.
He told her.
"Oh! I have to phone my husband now," she said. "I promised him that I would. I'll be right back…"
Harris looked annoyed.
Thinking cleverly, she said, "I'm sorry, but if I don't phone him, he might decide to come to the office looking for me, and we wouldn't want that, would we?"
She managed to smile suggestively.
Harris nodded, agreeing that was not a situation that they would want.
"Use the phone in my office," he said.
Well, she had thought of using a phone somewhere more public, but how could she refuse that suggestion?
"I'll be right beck," she told him.
She walked away.
Harris watched her succulent ass shift around inside her clinging dress and smiled with happy expectations.
Jayne went into his private office and closed the door behind her. She took a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief at having escaped his immediate attentions. She went over to the desk but did not use the telephone right away. She was certainly in no hurry to return to the party – if she was away for awhile, Harris would probably start chatting up some other women. Nor did she know if it would be such a good idea to phone home.
She had not told Jonathon that she would and he might wonder why she had, might think she was feeling guilty, perhaps, or that she was drunker than she should be.
She perched on the edge of the desk.
The room was faintly illuminated from the window, the street light outside throwing soft light and shadow. Jayne grinned a bit ruefully as, shifting her ass on the edge of the desk, she became aware of how juicy her pussy had become. She didn't feel guilty about that, however. That was only natural when a girl, no matter how pure and chaste she was, received the devoted attention of a handsome man – especially when she had had quite a few drinks to begin with.
She figured she would wait there long enough for her cunt to cool off.
Then the door opened.
Reginald Harris walked in, grinning.
He closed the door behind him.
Oh-oh! she thought.
Realizing that she had not picked up the phone, and not wanting him to get suspicious, she said, "The line was busy. I'll try again in a few minutes… then I'll be right out."
"Why hurry?" he said.
He crossed the room and stood before her. He put his hand on her tit and her stiff nipple branded his palm as he squeezed.
"I'd better try again…" she said, reaching for the telephone.
"What's the hurry?" Harris whispered. His other hand touched bet thigh. She was perched on the edge of the desk and her skirt had ridden up her thighs. He began to caress the inside of her knee, then moved higher. His fingers touched the naked flesh above the top of her stocking. She took a deep breath. She didn't know if she should grab his wrist and pull his hand away and, if she did, whether she should do it teasingly or angrily. The situation was foreign to the girl. She was confused.
Maybe he would not try to go any further…
He was kneading her upper thigh but he had not attempted to touch her cunt yet. There was nothing much wrong with letting him stroke her leg, was there?
Leaning in, he kissed her on the lips.
It started out as a chaste kiss, his lips together. She didn't object. But then his lips parted and he began to run his tongue across her mouth. She was tempted to twist away. Then she thought that perhaps she had better let him kiss her. She had some idea that if he was busy with her mouth, he would forget about her crotch.
His tongue forced its way into her mouth.
She was stiff for a moment. Then she started to kiss him back and their lips ground together. He was panting. His teeth felt hard through his lips as he jammed against her and his tongue was squirming around. After a moment, she began to suck on it and her own tongue curled against it. It was only a French kiss – it could happen to anyone. It wasn't really naughty…
She kept her hands an the edge of the desk.
But then he took her wrists and drew her arms up and pulled them around his neck. When he released them, they stayed where they were. She felt as if she were made out of pliable putty or pipe cleaners – that he could position her as he chose and that she would retain that shape.
The way he was kissing her was making her awfully hot, awfully excited. When he withdrew his tongue, her own tongue followed as if glued to it. She pushed it into his mouth and he began to suck on it.
"Oh, we mustn't…" she whispered.
He ignored her.
His hand slipped down the front of her dress and cupped her bare tit. He stroked and caressed it. Her nipple felt like it was going to explode.
"Please, don't… it isn't right…"
"Shhhhh…"
"My husband…"
"… will never know…"
"Oh! Oh dear!"
Jayne felt as if she were a teenage girl again, getting felt up when she was still a virgin. Plenty of boys had done tat to her… it couldn't be so very wicked.
And it felt so good! Tremors of desire were rushing through her body, running from her tender, aroused nipples and darting down into her belly and groin.
Her tongue, as he sucked on it, felt as sexually sensitive as her nipples – or her clit.
His hand was still on that soft patch of naked thigh just above her stocking. Now he very gently pushed her thighs apart and cupped her cunt in his palm. He didn't stroke or caress, at first. He just held that hot, juicy snatch in his hand, almost possessively.
Jayne whimpered.
He had pushed her dress up to her hips. She was sitting on the very edge of the desk, her lush thighs parted, his hand clamped between them. Then he began to massage her cunt. Using the palm of his hand, he rubbed her up and down through the wet, silken crotchband of her panties.
She was embarrassed at how juicy her pussy had become, at how soaked her panties were. She knew he could feel the heat of her twat, seeping through the silk.
His hand moved away.
Jayne felt a surge of relief – and at the same time, a surge of regret.
But he hadn't stopped.
He slipped his fingers under the elastic band of her panties and cupped her again, holding her naked flesh now. His hand moved up and down. Her clit was throbbing against his palm and against his fingers.
"You're beautiful," he whispered, speaking the wards right into her mouth.
"Please, I don't want to…"
"Let me make you come."
Jayne hesitated.
"Please, baby… let me make your pussy cream…"
Her eyelashes fluttered demurely. "Just… like this?" she panted.
"Ummmm."
His hand rubbed her steaming cunt.
"With just your hand?"
"If you like…"
"I… I won't let you fuck me. I couldn't do that… I'd like to, but I couldn't. But if you want to finger fuck me, I guess it's all right."
Harris grinned. His white teeth gleamed in the indirect glow from the window. His hand moved tenderly. Jayne was trembling and vibrating wildly.
What a nice man he is, she thought… he just wants to give me pleasure. He isn't trying to fuck me.
"Oh, yes! Make me come!" she gasped.
His lips met hers again and as they kissed and swapped tongues his fingertips traced along her cunt lips, rolled her clit then began to push into her hole. He began using both hands on her foaming pussy. He rubbed her clit with one hand while he push – pulled three fingers in and out of her crack with the other.
Her ass squirmed on the desk. Her thighs parted wide, closed over his caressing hand, parted wide again. She was rubbing her belly and cunt against his forearm. Her tongue darted into his mouth. Cunt juice ran from her pussy as he fingered it, trickling down into the crack of her ass.
He whispered, "I've lusted for you since the first moment I saw you…"
"Ahhh," she sighed.
She was going to cream very soon.
"I want to fuck you. I want to fuck your cunt and I want to fuck your sweet mouth."
"No… no…"
"…and I want to suck you off and…"
"Ooooh…"
She was coming.
Harris lowered his head, gazing down at her cunt as she creamed. He was still using both hands to rub her off, concentrating totally on the act. His stiff fingers pushed in and out of her hole and he rolled her clit steadily. The cunt juice gushed out of her, soaking his hands and dripping over the edge of the desk.
He sighed, taking pleasure in giving pleasure.
Jayne pumped her crotch against him and whimpered as the thrill swept through her, consuming her. If he had wanted to plow his prick into her at that instant, she could no more have stopped him than she could have flown out the window. But his cock was in his pants. He was rubbing her off and, for the moment, at least, seemed perfectly content to do so.
Long, lateral waves of lust ran across her belly and crashed together in her twat. The thrill was so great that the sexy girl was sobbing and wailing as she thrashed about on the desk, working off her wonderful climax to the dregs.
Then she was at the very peak.
"Ahhhhh…" she cried, loud, unrestrained, not caring who might hear her at her moment of bliss.
She was finished.
She sighed and slumped, her body going soft. Harris continued to rub her clit and finger her hole until he was certain that he had milked out every last spasm of her orgasm.
"Ummmm," she whimpered.
"Did you like that?"
"I loved it."
He drew his hands away. Both hands were soaking with the flow of her coming.
"We should have put a blotter down," he said.
She giggled, happy and content.
"I hope we can do… things like that… more often, now," he said, gazing into her eyes.
Jayne saw that she was going to have a bit of trouble in the future. She spent her working days with this man, often alone with him, and it was going to be awfully hard to resist him now that she had let him finger fuck her. She felt a wave of guilt and a foreshadowing of even greater guilt.
Forcing her voice to sound more distant and colder than she felt, determined to nip this affair in the bud, she said, "I really enjoyed it, but we musten't do it again."
He looked disappointed.
"You must understand… an office party is one thing, but at work…"
He nodded.
"I'd hoped…"
"Please. Let's not talk about it."
"All right," he said.
He was a true gentleman, she thought. He wasn't going to be difficult about it.
She slid down from the desk and, holding her dress up, adjusted her damp panties to her drained crotch. He watched with hot, adoring eyes, but made no further attempt to touch her or talk of the future.
Smoothing her dress down, she said, "I think we had better return to the party, now."
He said, "Ain't you forgetting something?" Jayne looked at him, keeping her face blank.
She had misunderstood. She thought that he expected her to jerk him off, in return for the handjob that he had given her. Well, she was willing to do that. It was only fair, she reasoned. It would not magnify her guilt and she owed him an orgasm.
But he said, "You were going to phone your husband."
"Oh! Why, yes… I did forget." She smiled at him. "You took my mind off him," she said.
And then, because he was standing there waiting for her, she lifted the phone and dialed.
She thought that she would just tell Jonathon that she would be, home soon.
But Jonathon didn't answer.
A girl answered the phone.