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"You'd do that for me?" she asked, reaching over with a dainty little hand to touch my arm. "That's a really sweet tempting offer."
"I've got a great music collection. You could pick out some tunes and relax while I uncork the wine and fix dinner."
"That sounds pretty domestic," she said beginning to smile as she gripped my arm. "Is that all you have in mind?"
"After spending so much time in the company of strangers, you look like you need to connect with someone," I said, turning to face her. "I'm simply volunteering."
"How sacrificial of you," she smiled. But then the smile faded and she looked at me as she had earlier in the day, a deep look inside of me as if trying to take of the measure of whether it would be worth it to trust me. In doing so the cool façade of the stern bookkeeper melted away to reveal the warm soul of a lonely woman, far from home looking for a comfortable place, a warm embrace, and perhaps more. She turned and came face to face with me, her face tilted up to meet mine, her dark eyes opening widely. Her other hand reached out to touch my arm. I moved closer to her.
"That's very nice of you to volunteer," she said softly moving closer to me. "I wonder if you're up to providing for all of my needs."
"It's that or die trying," I quipped.
"That sounds like commitment," she said. "Domestic and committed. I don't usually attract that sort of man."
"And what sort of man do you normally attract?" I asked, slipping my arms around her.
She let her hands glide up to my shoulders. "Lonely salesmen on the road, looking for any old warm port in the storm," she said bringing her hands back down over my chest. "Looking for a quick fling in a cheap motel, a no-ask, no-tell affair with a stranger. I meet them all."
"And do you go with them?" I asked, truly interested in her answer.
"I only did once, and regretted it ever since," she said, her hands gently rubbing my chest.
"So that's why you wouldn't go to lunch," I responded, bringing my hands down to her waist.
"That and a couple of other reasons," she said. "I don't know you. You don't know a thing about me. I just can never let myself get involved."
"You should know that I'm not the kind to take advantage," I said pulling her up against me. "But I'm not beyond meeting with someone on equal terms, seeking out the warm caring touch of someone in need of the same."
I was aware of her belly pressing up against me, her breath on my cheeks, her hands gently rubbing my chest. I was also aware of her dark eyes locked on mine, opening up so that I could see the pain and longing deep inside of her. She slipped her hands around to my back and let herself fall closer against me, our faces an inch apart.
"How do you know that I feel that way?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Maybe it's because we see in each other a bit of the same thing, the loneliness, the need to connect."
I tilted my head opposite her and brought my lips toward hers. They lightly touched in a brushing soft kiss. The scent of her perfume enveloped me, as we pressed closer together. Her body trembled as our arms looped farther around and our kiss grew deeper. Her breath splashed over my face as her mouth opened and our tongues sought each other out in a twirling wrestling match. As I reached down to cup her ass with one hand and brought the other up behind her head, she slipped an arm up over my shoulder and held me tightly. With our bodies pressed together I could fell how slender she was beneath the full cut of her business suit, with a narrow waist and a small firm butt; and her body felt warm, very warm. She finally pulled back to take a deep breath.
"Oh, God. What are we doing?" she asked looking at me with a puzzled gaze.
"I've always found it unnecessary to ask too many questions at times like these," I replied. "But I thought that we were just kissing."
"That was not just a kiss," she said. "That was something else. That was passion!"
"There's more where that came from," I remarked pulling her close again. "But I promise that I won't rip your bodice."
"Pardon me?"
"Well, I saw you reading one of those potboiler romance novels at lunchtime and didn't want you to think I was a bodice ripper."
"For one thing, I'm wearing a suit not a dress so there is no bodice to rip," she said with a laugh. "And second, I was reading Sexual Response In Women not a romance novel."
"That explains your kissing technique," I said pulling her close and kissing her again.
Our hands were all over each other now; hers up fingering their way through my hair, mine working up and down her back feeling out every slender curve of her backside. Her hands worked around to loosen my tie and pull it away from the neck of my shirt. I began to work on the buttons of her suit jacket as she unbuttoned my shirt. After pulling her jacket open, I fumbled with the dinky buttons on her blouse. She pulled my dress shirt open and ran her hands over my bare chest.
"You've got a very nice body, Jack," she said. "Nice and slim with firm muscles."
"No, you're the one with the nice body," I remarked as I pulled her blouse open to reveal her full breasts nestled in a lacy pink bra. I traced my fingertips along the upper rim of the cups barely, teasingly touching the tender flesh of her breasts. "You are beautiful!"
She leaned toward me and began to kiss me on the chest, letting her lips graze lightly on my nipples. I gently tugged at the cups of her bra pulling them down to reveal the dark nipples beneath that were now getting firm and erect. I heard her gasp against my chest as I cupped her breasts and tweaked her nipples. She spun slowly around so that her back was to me but my hands could fully explore her full firm breasts. They were delicious handfuls, not too big, but enough to fill each hand completely. The skin surrounding her nipples was so soft and smooth and creamy I could have stood there all night playing with her tits.
Her hands reached down behind her and rubbed up against my crotch, feeling my cock rise up in eager anticipation. She gently massaged it up into a more comfortable position. She pulled the zipper down and slipped one hand inside and pulled my cock out to stroke it. She turned back around and grasped me with both hands.
"Look at you!" she cooed. "A kind, sensitive guy with a big cock! Pinch me I must be dreaming."
I grabbed at her nipples and threatened to tweak them but she never gave me the chance when she kneeled down to pay attention to my cock. With both hands she rubbed it and stroked it, squeezing the head enough to make me flinch from the overwhelming sensation. As she began to lick at it with her tongue, I loosened my trousers and let them fall down to my ankles. She paused for a moment so that I could lower my boxers and give her full access to my cock, now standing at attention in front of her mouth.
Without a word she drew it into her hot wet mouth, her hands holding it straight out by the base and her mouth working back and forth along the length of it. She paused every so often to let it pop out of her mouth and smacked her lips before sucking it back inside her eager mouth. I fell back to rest my ass on the edge of the large table, my hands down on the table for support. She positioned herself so that, as she bobbed her head back and forth, all that touched me was her mouth and tongue. She pulled her jacket and blouse off her shoulders revealing more of her slender body. How delicate and feminine she was under her business suit. The straps of her bra slipped down off her shoulders and the sight of her breasts wiggling as her head bobbed back and forth brought a new wave of pleasure to me. I reached around to her head and pulled at the clip and pins that secured her hair in the tight twist at the back of her head. Finally her black hair tumbled free and fell well below her shoulders. I reached down and slid her glasses from her face.
"Oh, God, Carmen!" I called out. "I love the way you suck my cock!"
That made her work all the harder sucking me further and deeper into her mouth and throat. Soon I heard her gag as she tried to push all of me inside her.
"You don't have to do that," I said, running my hands through her hair. "I love it just the way you were doing it."
"But I want to," she replied, stroking my wet cock with both of her hands as she caught her breath. "That's the point, Baby. I want to!"
She went back to work on my stiff cock, letting her tongue draw circles on the cap and then down and back up the under side. She plunged her head forward and sucked all of me down her throat in one move. Back and forth she worked her head pulling me up the ladder of ecstasy.
Finally, when I was ready to come, I pulled her up by the shoulders and spun her around, boosting her ass up onto the conference table. I picked up her legs and she raised her skirt up her slender legs to reveal the lace tops of her black silk stockings and her pink lace panties. There was a noticeable wet spot at the crotch and I immediately pulled them to the side and lowered my head toward her musky pussy. What a sweet little twat it was, as I kissed it and worked the lips apart with my tongue. There was the lightest bit of fur around her pussy, very soft and delicate. Her sweet musky scent was like candy. She hiked her skirt up to her waist and pulled my head into her firmly. Working with my tongue and lips and fingers I soon had her leaning back on the table, pulling at her nipples.
"Oh, Baby! Fuck me with your tongue! Eat my pussy, baby! Eat my pussy!"
Soon I had three fingers in her pussy and I sucked on her clit and managed to poke my thumb up her tight little anus. She wrapped her legs around my head as I worked on her pussy. She came once and then a second time more lightly.
"Oh. God! You Bastard!" she cried again and again.
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