Posted on

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Life at the office had become… difficult.

Bella had managed, in her short time in the department, to annoy, belittle, frustrate, and undermine nearly everyone who had the misfortune of working with her. Many of the male staff tolerated her apathy, errors, and annoyances for the sake of having some eye candy prancing around, but even their patience was beginning to wear thin. Which, due to Bella’s breathtaking beauty, was in itself was very telling.

Her vast array of provocative clothing was only outdone by the brazen and unabashed manner in which she displayed it. It was lucky (or unlucky, depending on your perspective) if her bared-flesh-to-clothing ratio was lower than 5:1. Bella sauntered, preened, teased, and provoked with an air of flagrant exhibitionism, and she was damn good at it. After a few days she had all the straight men in the office following her around like pubescent schoolboys, but it would have been foolish to dismiss her as promiscuous.

I had the impression that she knew the game, and had been playing it for some time-likely since she first discovered the power she could wield over horny boys… and men. Despite all the stories I heard-of near nip-slips, flashed panties, and provocative poses-fluttering about the office like restless birds, I never heard of any conquests. Sure, some of the men boasted early on that it would only be a matter of time before they were balls-deep in the new intern, but this posturing soon faded, leaving only the bitterness of thwarted male hubris.

In turn, the attitudes of the staff quickly shifted to resentment. The women resented her disregard for the rules and her overt sexuality, and the men resented her for not putting out. Yet Bella seemed to meander through these attitudes with the practised apathy of a young, privileged woman yet to be weighted down by the harsher realities of life.

For my part, I found it all very fascinating. Despite my misgivings about how she treated the staff, I admired her craftiness, her guile, her irreverence. There was an intelligence about her, hidden under the make-up and fake tan and insolent scowl. It was an intelligence that belied her age, and came at a cost.

I did my best to get along with Bella, most often acting as a moderator between her and other staff; Natalie in particular, who seemed most days to be ready to strangle Bella with the cable of her mouse. She had continued to try to torment me with her ass-wiggle ritual whenever she left my office, but I did a formidable job of ignoring it (not because I wanted to… my god her ass was perfect, but because I thought giving her a little respect might soften her attitude), and she had subsequently stopped. She was at best lukewarm toward me, which compared to how she treated the others was probably as good as it was going to get. In the meantime, I fought fires that she lit, and did my best-along with Carmen-to keep the office in some semblance of order.

Unfortunately, it couldn’t last.

Natalie was a mess, her stress levels higher than I had ever seen them. Most of the male staff had turned into grumbling trolls when her name was even mentioned, and the women were so frigid toward her that the office was positively icy. As a consequence, productivity was at an all-time low, and office conflict was through the roof. Even Carmen, who was normally calm in the face of adversity, was showing signs of stress.

This led to me taking a trip to Human Resources. I needed to talk to someone who might have some suggestions about how to deal with the situation. Unfortunately for me, the very person who might be able to help was the same person I would likely have to have a rather awkward conversation with.

“Oh… hello…” said Vanessa as she opened the door to her office, her normally cheerful greeting was somewhat less than enthusiastic.

I smiled uncomfortably.

“Please, come in,” she continued, regaining her composure.

I entered and she closed the door behind me, then sat on a couch by the window on the far side of the room, crossing her long legs and gesturing to an armchair facing the couch. She wore black heels, a grey skirt, and a silky, navy top. She looked very pretty with her librarian’s glasses and nearly black hair, a fringe at the front.

I hadn’t seen her since the incident in the spa at the building’s gym, but had warned her via email that I had some staff concerns that I needed to discuss with her. Her reply had been cursory, but polite. I sat in the armchair and cleared my throat, deciding it would also be best to clear the air.

“Look, firstly, about the… um… gym-“

“-please, let’s just discuss what you came here for, ok?” Her tone was soft enough to put us both relatively at ease, but stern enough to emphasise that she didn’t deem the subject appropriate at this moment.

“Right.” I relaxed a bit, happy to avoid an awkward conversation. “We have a relatively new employee in our department who has been causing a degree of… disruption. It’s bursa anal yapan escort affecting productivity and morale, and I wanted some advice about what I might to to manage the situation.”

“This wouldn’t be Bella Reid, would it?” Vanessa asked, looking unsurprised.

“You’ve had complaints?”

“No, not formal ones, but there has been a lot of chatter.”

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, rubbing my chin.

“Not that it would make much difference anyway…” I said quietly.

“Excuse me?” Vanessa asked sharply, sitting up straight.

“No! No, I mean… not because you wouldn’t do your job. I’m not questioning that.” I felt like an idiot. “Just because, well, Gary Reid is her dad. He put her there for a reason.”

“Oh? And what reason is that?”

I hesitated. Vanessa likely had no idea about the politics going on between Gary, his wife, Carmen, and me, and at this point she didn’t need to know.

“I’m not sure. But I’d be willing to bet that any attempt to have her fired or transferred would fail. Call it a hunch.”

Vanessa looked searchingly at me, then relaxed a little.

“Probably a good hunch,” she said, indicating that she knew more than she was letting on.

She uncrossed her legs slowly, deliberately, and I was unable to keep my eyes from glancing down at her long legs, her creamy thighs, the hem of her skirt riding up a little higher.

“Exactly. So I was hoping to get some suggestions from you about how do deal with the situation,” I continued.

“We have regular conflict resolution seminars, which I would suggest you attend. If you can convince her to attend as well that would be a bonus.”

“Yes, of course, but I was hoping to get some more informal advice in the meantime.”

I leaned forward, and I could have sworn Vanessa’s legs parted ever so slightly. She surveyed me for a moment, then raised her slender fingers to her lips, touching them as she looked off in thought.

“You need to talk to her. To connect with her, preferably as a peer rather than a colleague or superior. Suggest somewhere neutral, but informal: a cafe down the street, for instance. Get to know her a bit better. If you can find out what makes her tick, and appeal to her on a more compassionate level, then you have a chance of opening up the discussion to include her behaviour at work. At the very least you might be able to trade viewpoints and reach some sort of compromise. I suspect that’s your best chance.”

Vanessa’s legs moved again, her knees separating a few more centimetres. I fought the urge to look up her skirt, and lost. I caught a glimpse between her legs, and noticed a sliver of fabric. Her panties were indigo blue. When I managed to wrench my eyes back to hers, she had a barely perceptible smile at the corners of her red lips, and her cheeks had turned a deeper shade of pink.

“It may take some time to build trust with her, but unless you’re willing to file a formal complaint, I don’t see any other way of effectively addressing the issue,” she finished, her fingers now gently touching the side of her neck.

None of the advice Vanessa had given me was anything I hadn’t thought of before, but I had found out something important: the strings were being pulled from higher up, and Vanessa was ultimately as powerless as I was.

I decided to make a quick exit before the sight of her panties caused my cock to tent my trousers. I stood up and turned to make my way toward the door.

“Thanks for your help, Vanessa, I’ll see what I can do,” I said, opening the door.

“Wait. Have you got a minute?” she replied quickly.

I turned my head and noticed that she had stood and was approaching me.

“I’m going to grab a coffee, if you’ll join me for a few minutes,” she said, gesturing to the door.

I opened it and she followed me, walking down the hallway to the lift. We went outside to a nearby cafe and found a small booth nestled in the corner. Vanessa seemed nervous, agitated. We ordered coffee from the server, then she picked up her handbag and slid out of the seat.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, making her way to the ladies room.

I waited patiently, wondering if she was going to bring up the gym incident. It seemed likely, so I prepared an apology in my head in anticipation. Although the conversation might be awkward, it would be good to clear the air. Vanessa returned a few minutes later and slid into the booth, sitting almost next to me, rather than across from me.

“I want to talk to you about… about the other week. In the spa,” she began, getting straight to the point.

“Look, I’m so sorry for that. It was totally inappropriate-” I spoke quickly, wondering why we hadn’t discussed this in the privacy of her office as I looked around at the people bustling about.

“-I liked it,” Vanessa said, cutting me off.

My jaw dropped. I was speechless, staring stupidly at her as her bursa eskort cheeks flushed.

“I liked how you touched me in the spa, and I liked it even more when Natalie was with us. I’ve been thinking about it constantly. It was unexpected, but the excitement of the risk of being caught was so… erotic. When I found out that Natalie had been touching your…” her eyes flicked down to my crotch, then back to my eyes, “…right next to me… I wasn’t mad that you had touched me, or were doing something lewd with Natalie as I sat right next to you, I was upset because… because I so desperately wished that it had been me doing it. I wanted to be the one stroking your big cock while Natalie-or anyone-sat next to us.”

The words tumbled out of her mouth like an avalanche, a snowballing confession. My lips moved, but no sound came out. Vanessa continued hurriedly, not wanting to lose momentum.

“Things with my husband have been a little dry for some time, which we’ve talked about. We love each other-it’s not that-but sexually we aren’t connecting.”

I felt a little guilty hearing her explain these personal things to me.

“Vanessa, you don’t need to explain-“

“-I WANT to explain!” she said, interrupting me again, angrily this time. “I listen to people’s issues and problems every day. Do you think it ever occurs to anyone that I need to vent sometimes?”

She looked a little hurt, and the weight of her worries became apparent to me. I touched her hand.

“I’m sorry. Please, continue. I’m happy to listen.”

She looked at me, and I saw her beauty shine through in the redness of her cheeks, the determination in her eyes.

“You have no idea how much I’ve fantasised about what happened that day. It’s been consuming me.” She inched a little closer to me, our hips touching. Her skirt had crept up high on her thighs, showing off her long, slender legs.

“Steve and I have agreed to have an open marriage. I’m free to explore my sexuality, as is he, as long as we discuss it with each other.”

I nodded, still not sure what to say. Vanessa looked at me hopefully, desperately. It seemed her confession had ended, but I could see what she wanted. My hand reached across to touch her milky thigh as I leaned closer to her, my fingers slowly creeping up toward the hem of her skirt.

“And you want to explore… with me?” I said softly, not breaking eye contact.

My question was rhetorical, and Vanessa took it as such. She reached next to her, and into her handbag, then she took my hand that was on her thigh and turned it palm up. Her other hand, clutching something, moved to my open palm. I felt soft fabric. And dampness.

I looked down at the indigo blue fabric of Vanessa’s thong resting in my hand. I caressed them gently, feeling how soaked they were. I looked back up at her and she was biting her lower lip alluringly.

“Latte and a cappucino?” said a male voice next to me.

My head spun and I clutched Vanessa’s wet panties in my hand, hastily stuffing them into the pocket of my trousers. The server set our coffees down, giving me a quizzical glance and an awkward smile.

“Yes, thanks,” said Vanessa without missing a beat, sliding her latte toward her.

I thanked the server and took a sip of my coffee, then turned back to Vanessa. Her hand was shaking a little as she set down her cup, and her cheeks were full of fire. Almost getting caught giving her panties to her colleague had clearly excited her. I moved my hand back to her thigh, higher this time, nudging the hem of her skirt as my fingers tickled the soft flesh of her inner thigh. She reached down and hooked her fingers under her skirt, pulling it up, higher and higher. I thought she was going to stop, but instead she hiked it up around her hips, her bare ass now sitting on the padded leather of the booth.

She leaned in close, and whispered in my ear, “I want you to put your fingers inside me.”

Gone was the timid, polite, HR professional, now replaced by a horny vixen. My fingers inched their way up between her legs, and she sat back a little and spread them obligingly. I touched the warmth of her outer labia, the prickly patch of her trimmed landing strip above them. Her hips moved and I slipped my finger between her pussy lips, sliding it up and down her slit, which was saturated with her womanly nectar.

Vanessa bit her lip again and gazed into my eyes. She nodded slowly and her lips parted, emitting the softest of sighs as my middle finger grazed her clit. I could feel the heat coming off her pussy as I massaged her hard nub. With a trembling hand, she reached out and picked up her coffee cup, bringing it to her lips as if nothing untoward was happening under the table. Her eyes darted around the cafe as she sipped the coffee. As she lowered it, I dipped my finger inside her pussy, nearly causing her to spill the contents.

The ceramic rattled briefly on the saucer as she set her cup down, bursa escort kızlar a soft whimper escaping her lips as my finger wiggled inside her soaking wet pussy. My cock strained against my boxers and made a formidable tent of my trousers as I fingered Vanessa’s cunt in the booth of the cafe.

“Is this what you wanted?” I asked her, watching her chest rise and fall rapidly.

“Yes… fuck yes… Oh god, look at all the people in here. They have no idea your finger is in my wet pussy,” she murmured, pivoting her hips as I pushed another finger between her womanly folds.

Emboldened by the sexual perversity of the situation, Vanessa’s hand reached out to my lap, caressing the long, thick protrusion in my trousers. I growled softly as her fingers gripped my shaft, pumping it a few times, making it throb. I shifted my hips against hers, moving us further into the booth so we wouldn’t be so easily visible. Vanessa spread her legs wider and I began sliding my fingers in and out of her in a slow, steady cadence.

“Ooohhh yeah… I want your cock in my hand. I want to jerk you off under the table,” she said quickly, both her hands now hurriedly fumbling with my zipper.

In a moment she had extracted my length from my pants, glancing down at it, her eyes widening as her hand caressed my pulsing shaft, her fingertips teasing my dick head.

“Oh my god,” she sighed, lost in wonder. “You have a beautiful cock.”

“Are you going to give me a handjob with all these people here, Vanessa?” I asked, curling my fingers inside her to stroke her g-spot.

She gave a sharp intake of breath and her other hand moved back, gripping the edge of the seat next to her spread legs. The hand closest to me gripped my cock fiercely at the base, making it bulge.

“Yes honey. I’m going to stroke your massive cock under the table until you cum for me,” she said huskily.

With a firm grip, her curled hand ascended to the crown of my head, then back down about halfway. She repeated the motion slowly enough not to raise suspicion, but with enough of a rhythm to make my hips rock in appreciation. It probably looked curious to an observer, my body angled toward Vanessa, my arm disappearing below the table at an angle that would indicate its ultimate destination resided somewhere between her legs, but at that moment it was far from my mind. Fifteen minutes before we had been colleagues discussing work matters, and now we were pleasuring each other in public. I felt an exhilaration which likely paled in comparison to hers.

Vanessa reached up to the table again, taking her coffee cup and sipping it casually-at least as casually as she could with my fingers sliding in and out of her dripping pussy. After setting her cup down again, she looked at me, lips parted, her nipples now jutting out from her top, occasional soft whimpers escaping her throat.

“That’s it baby, finger my cunt. Make me cum in front of all these strangers,” she said, her voice louder now, as if carrying on a mundane conversation.

Her dirty talk made my cock twitch in her hand, and she smiled.

“I’m going to make you leave a wet spot on this seat, Vanessa. I’m going to make you cum all over my fingers. I want to feel your pussy squeeze them inside you as you cum in public.”

Her body went rigid and her hand gripped the edge of the table as she moaned, aroused by our dirty talk. Her stroking pace on my cock increased dramatically, and I squirmed in my seat, my heart racing. The public nature of our affections were exciting me, and I felt her squeeze a drop of pre-cum from my cock.

“You like that, baby? You like getting finger fucked by your colleague in a cafe?”

I knew from her rotating hips and shuddering breath that my words were pushing her closer to the edge of ecstasy.

“Fuck yes… mmmmm, I love it. Make my pussy cum. Make me cum all over this seat, honey,” her sweet voice spoke as she slumped a bit in her seat, angling her hips up so I could slide my fingers deeper inside her.

Her cunt was so saturated that I could hear wet sounds coming from beneath the table, and felt her juices pooling against my palm. I sped my thrusting fingers, looking her in the eyes.

“I know you’re close, Vanessa. Let go, baby. Cum for me. Cum for everyone in this cafe,” I murmured to her.

That was enough to get her eyes to roll and her fingers to turn white as she gripped the table, her thighs tensing, her pussy clenching. She opened her mouth and gave a half-moan, half whimper as she came, her juices flowing over my fingers and palm and down between her thighs. Her hand stopped stroking my cock and just squeezed it hard.

“Ooooohhh fuuuuuccckkk…” she sighed, her body trembling as her eyes darted about the cafe, watching people talk, and move, and casually go about their day.

The sight of her cumming on my fingers made my cock surge in her squeezing hand. After a few moments, her breathing almost a pant, she looked at me thankfully. I slowly slid my fingers from inside her cunt as she sat up straighter. As I brought my hand up to the table, she took it in hers, starting to pump my column again. She looked at the glistening cum coating them, almost curiously, then brought my hand closer to her face. She stroked me fast and hard, pumping my cock with purpose as she locked eyes with me.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir yanıt yazın

E-posta adresiniz yayınlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir