Office lunch

We'd been seeing each other for a while. I should say, literally, see, as it was as harmless as that. She was deeply and passionately in love with Sandy, but she, unfortunately, was married. Although she knew how I felt, for many months now we had been having casual lunches. A while ago we would go out to several parks and have good comfortable conversations. I enjoyed several foot massages and some hand massages to release tension. Once I massaged her. And several times we share a very nice, but brown and platonic embrace. We both knew that there was more to our feeling than these "contractors" and each one, in our own way, was more hungry. But we were loyal, at least, physically loyal.

Then an unfortunate coincidence made us leave our "outings." We were forced to limit ourselves to the local offices. But one day when we had a planned date, and we both needed it a lot (the mental relief that each one felt when sharing these few moments was monumentally warm the heart, it was almost like our physical frustrations and, well, put it clearly, our beauty was partially struck by these moments), rain. I wanted to go back to "our park" for a rainy day picnic, but his superior will (not only was he strong of will, but he was magnificently beautiful, a perfect and exquisite creature of grace, charm and sensual charism like none I have ever known) prevailed and suggested my office.

Now my office is small and messy. The only really recognizable features are the computer on a table next to my desk and the "guest" chair is in front of my desk. Sandy brought her lunch and seductly established her beautiful self in the chair so she could soak in her warmth and beauty. It was so tempting to close the door, even close it, but the office bobbos would have had a field day. I was gonna be bad enough with the occasional bystander, but we had no choice.

Lunch, in itself, could have been uneven, as the sound would take so we had to keep our voices down every time we talked about relevant things, such as love and sex and the like; however, I found that there was enough space under the shield of modesty desk for me to read his feet. A strategically placed box helped cover the erotic affection that was going to happen.

During a particularly passionate exchange, although little voted on the charms of sexual intercourse, I accidentally hit my foot with mine. The result was not unexpected when a humorous size 13 finds a delicate, sensitive and feminine naked foot. Although it wasn't really serious I felt very bad and wanted to rub it to relieve the pain. Sandy wouldn't even let that happen, but I decided to take off my shoes to avoid a recurrence.

Why it took me so long to realize I could caress his feet with mine that I'll never know. Sandy easily accepted this because no one could see. So now as we speak of nated sweets I relieved my passions with soft and erotic affection from her feet. If the office knew what was going on. But they didn't! This happened for about ten minutes. I was having difficulty making a covert conversation because the stimulation was huge. Here I was virtually making crazy and passionate love with the most beautiful person in the world and I had to keep the chitter- chatter. The desk covered my erection well, whether my voice did or not is something else.

Then somehow the subject of software came up. It may seem funny to think of something like that on the verge of an orgasm, but yes, thank God. And why the hell do I say "thank God"? Well, my patient reader, I decided it was time to show you one of my new acquisitions. Now I could have shown you some of the X-ray texts I had or some of the graphics that would justify the purchase on a computer in the first place, but that looked like a blasphemous.

I chose an innocuous program and I started it. Sandy obviously couldn't see where she was sitting, so our matte feet were broken so the rest of us could be closer. She looked at my side and slowly and erotically turned to the screen and something like she undressed me and my new friend resting idly, but hopefully, on my lap.

So let me describe the scene so I'm late. Here I was sitting on my desk watching a harmless video screen with a huge hard guy hidden under the table. (I must say, parenthesis, that my erection was hidden from the casual spectator, but Sandy was not a "casual visor." For her, none of me was lost from her point of view, at least, I expected.) I'm not John Holmes now, but with Sandy so close I felt I could give him a decent career for his money or whatever. The smile that crossed Sandy's beautiful, full, passionate lips almost made me lose my wand at that time and there, as I said, "I like it that way." But let me go on before the patient reader gets bored. And to the right, and I mean to the right, next to me was the lush and delicious piece of femininity, dripping with sensual passion. His hips were so close to my face that he could almost smell the aphrodisiac scent of his genitals. In my mind I could and I was taken wild. He bowed slightly to point to the screen and rubbed his thigh seductly against my shoulder.

We have been able to continue our idle talk about computers and such. The occasional observer would have noticed nothing. "Love did miracles," I have always said, and I am sure it was in Love, deep, wonderful LOVE with this perfect creature. It was only natural to share my joy of being with her so I came and put my arms around her hips. This and the subsequent actions were, of course, carefully hidden from all who walked.

At first, Sandy hesitated and moved, a little. Her instinct was to keep her distance, probably thinking she had encouraged something that should not be encouraged. His "encouragement" was not his knowledge. Just because it was what it was, a lovely, kind and sensitive mature woman in a very attractive package. All the time I had attracted her even before she knew it existed. God had surely created some strange things in this world and many beautiful. But this time he left. (Some may think that only a man could conceive of the perfect woman, but I say that men would not recognize the "perfect woman" if she was thrown into her lap. All they want is good shit. Only a female could imagine all the delicious features of her sex and wish to pack only one.) But I'll take it again.

In the past I would have dropped my arm and let it "win" its battle of wills, but for some reason I was not going to allow it this time. My increasingly active friend could have influenced me. Anyway, I pulled my grip on their hips and threw it back against my shoulder. When I felt that the tension was resisting, it was relieving my grip. But my hand seemed to be separate. A slow monotonous "cruise" soon began around Sandy's soft and charming flank. Our hugs in the past had been wasted now was being treated elsewhere deliciously curvaceous of this charming creature.

With each step I detected less resistance. His right hand, which had approached mine a few moments ago, gradually fell by his side. I felt a clear wave of softening through it. With caution, my hand felt that it was closer to me, trying to overcome the two exquisite mounds of passion. The lush and sensual background of Sandy was one of its most outstanding features, and that is from a man in his leg, who had long admired the thin and cut turn of his ankle. This lady embodies the perfection enough for all the normal fixations. Now, as in my so many dreams, I was often gently caressing every contour of his posterior so cruelly trapped in a dress and underwear. This was a body that deserved to be released (and she had sent me to a frenzy once when she said she liked to fish in the nude, I still haven't recovered from those scenes of mind theft). Anyway, I continued this exotic trip to never ground until I thought I'd physically wear out his clothes. The only perceptible reaction I could determine was a definitive snuggling.

Gradually, my hand moved and continued the caress on his beautiful thigh seductively curved and down and around his knee, the first touch of flesh, or near meat, as his hose always present prevented me from touching the natural completely. With so much delicacy I started a very slow and, hopefully, sensual journey back on his leg. A quick hardening and the return of his right hand stopped me about half of his graceful thigh. His hand rested gently on mine as if he said, "Up. I like this. But it shouldn't happen."

For a brief moment I stopped. With this pause, his body relaxed, but his delicate hand remained.

A co-worker gave him his head in my office. We exchanged nice for a few minutes. He dropped his hand.

Even before the interloper's departure I once again started the delicious climb of the stairs to the sky. I didn't find any resistance this time. When I was approaching the top of my ascent, I was slowing down to "stick the flowers along the way" and would have given anything to smell the wonderful aroma that must surely be radiating from the love grotto, so close. Slowly, but I certainly continued my trek along those exquisite inner thighs of this goddess. Every time I felt Sandy tense, I stopped and surrounded myself in delight until this wonderful creature shared my delight. Then I continued my wonderful journey.

When I met the apex and felt the multiple layers of artificial decks my fingers rested to peruse. Other ministries would be ineffective for both. I considered asking Sandy to apologize for a change of outfit, you know, to "insert" something more comfortable, but remotely remembering the location I gave that idea. He was lost in thought and frustration.

Then a door appeared in front of me, a strange door, but lovely. I put it in my mind and opened it. Revealed before I was the most beautiful and exotic garden anyone has ever seen. All the colors filled my eyes and a million precious smells clouded my senses. What had caused this? Well, my patient friend. A touch. Yes! A simple, genuine and honest touch. No, I hadn't really seen a heavenly garden or smelled one. I had felt the touch of Aphrodite, it was no more, it was Sandy's soft and warm passionate touch on my thigh. The radiated heat of that simple act filled me with renewed longing and fervor to share my joy. While I was clumsy fighting with the fold under Sandy's dress to strain to locate the covers of her handicap clothes, the hot hand on me pressed her breath. At last, success had found the end. Now the difficult task of lowering this physical barrier without destroying anything and without causing undue disturbances that could make an intruder notice. Slowly and carefully I put down your panties and pantyhose in panties and start, first from one side and then the other. Initially, a fraction of one inch at a time and gradually gaining confidence and experience I could move it a few inches at a time. At last I had put down the taxes low enough for my delicious exploration to continue. I trembled in advance and tremor. Would he really be alone and let me go on? I had to wait just a few moments for the answer.

With extremely slow and soft blows, I followed my path previously drawn to the union of those exquisite soft and satin limbs. I could have simply followed the heat to the source of my desire, but I had other ways of looking and the probe itself, was not without praise. But I was helped by the hot hand on my thigh. As I approached the toast source, the grip became stronger. When I finally came to the sacred sanctuary of love and felt the moisture, the grip on me was one possessed.

I just flirted with the Holy Grail, bordering his mature lips in search of the holy scepter of Sandy. The delight of the search was stimulating. There he is! He had found the edge of Feminity, Feminity incarnated in this lush, magnificent and impeccable body of Sandy. Three things happened at the same time: The shock of the first contact fired electricity through my hand, Sandy hardened in the rapture and her hand moved and closed into my rigid penis, trying to free herself from its earthly ties.

For a brief moment we were both frozen in time. Any casual passers would have seen two ordinary people watching a computer screen. Only if they had heard the almost inaudible groan of pleasure at the same time spilling out of their lips would there have been the slightest suspicion. Fortunately, none of them did.

His brief pause in his urgent effort was passed as my fingers gently caressed this enchanted tip. As he embraced and embraced his firm scheme, one could hear a constant ecstatic groan. Without missing a single stroke of affection, I slipped my fingers without using them down to the chalice that I so cherished to whistle. (If only,... but that wasn't going to be.) His answer was only the imperceptible whisper: "Please don't stop. Don't stop at all. It's wonderful, so, very, very wonderful."

Needless to say, I wasn't gonna interrupt my jolly heist, whether it gave Sandy pleasure or not, and I knew it. Because all this time she had courageously encouraged my erection by strangling him expertly in time with my ministerations. His only pause was to quickly decompress my fly and release my hard steel penis to be freely exercised by his delicate and sensitive fingers. In and on, we were, our minds lost in each of the other finger-tip hugs. The only change was the constant increase in intensity as we approach our long climax simultaneously. This was all we could share.

The enchantment my fingers found was indescribable. The hot wet camera was so soft and cozy, inviting more of me than was possible at that time. My poor surrogate- penis could only ask for what it could have been. The sensitive tips of the fingers tested for more contact, deeper and deeper, but they could only proceed so far before my contact with Sandy's deserving clitoris was lost. In them they slid in their surroundings, the silky and flexible grotto made slippery by a delicious mix of secretions that I longed to take. The treasure at the end of this exquisite tunnel could never be overcome by the way itself. But the long search for love-price, the father-mother, was about to end the fulfillment.

Nor was Sandy's hand a substitute for her delicious vagina, but she tried. Not only was the strangulation in harmony with our inner souls, but their finger tips continuously played the field, so to speak. No part of my inflamed rigid protuberance was free from your research touch. The sensations he caused were exquisite.

When I could no longer hold back, I will whisper, "We have arrived, Sandy. Come with me to Nirvana, enter Elysium with me." And we both tremble in ecstasy and climax exactly together.

As my seed flowed through all the papers on the ground, Sandy collapsed to her knees.

For many minutes we stand still, relying on the bright, but soft, glow of cheerful spiritual Love made tangible by our bodies.

Then after the glow had fallen down something we both realized our preaching. Our love smiles faded quickly as we fought to collect the loose pieces. In a surprisingly short time everything seemed normal. The floor had been cleaned, the clothes replaced, as needed, and our faces restored to almost normal.

"What's new?" Sam said that while he was unannounced. In unison, we said, "Nothing, what's new with you?" And he laughed at the relaxed laugh of the true ease and satisfied with themselves, which they were.