Real encounters: ‘foot f*cked’ by a seni

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Real encounters: ‘foot f*cked’ by a seniThis is a true story of an office experience that happened to me about 10 years ago (before I was married I hasten to add). As I have never told any one about it before, I like the idea of sharing it anonymously.I was between boyfriends and working as a float PA at a city law firm. I didn’t like the job at all, neither the people or the general atmosphere. The pay and perks were OK but having only done 6 months, I was already interviewing for another job.As is common, it seems in any professional services firm in London – you get lots of unwanted attention if you are young and unmarried. In fairness, most of it is harmless and I’m sure it’s been happening since the beginning of time anyway. I don’t mind occasional banter but I do not flirt with older men in the office or look for relationships with colleagues. Just not my thing.My duties that day were to cover for a PA who was on her honeymoon and I was having to PA for her boss who was a Partner in the firm and something of a big cheese. He was young-ish as they go, about 40, quite tall and broad, ex-army I think (the posh type, rather than the squaddie type). He was married with two c***dren.Anyway… it was a Friday afternoon and I had to minute a conference call that he was on with other partners (lawyers) in the European offices. I think it was led by Germany and there were people from France and Italy also on the call. I remain convinced to this day that I didn’t need to be there as there wasn’t really anything to minute. Most of the call was someone in the German office droning on and on. Boring. So we were in his private office and the shutters were down as they usually are. There weren’t that many people around the wider office anyway. We were at the little round table with four chairs, the starphone was in the centre and we sat opposite one another. We were about 15 minutes into the call and I rather nonchalantly sighed (mostly under my breath) and kind of slouched back in my chair and stuck my legs out. Didn’t give it much thought when I was doing it – it was really a somewhat unsubtle sign that I didn’t want to be there and that I thought this was a waste of time. I had had very little actual conversation with this partner whilst covering him, as he was mostly in meetings and all of our correspondence was done by email, it seemed.Next thing I knew, he’d pulled a similar pose, he’d stretched out his legs and one of them was actually positioned inside my own outstretched legs, just touching mine. Wasn’t a big deal. My initial reaction was to pull back – because it felt like an invasion of personal space – which it was. But just as I was inclined to do that – something in my mind said “no, why should I move my legs just because he’s trying to invade my space. I’m not budging”.And so I didn’t move. The call continued. Probably 60 seconds or so went by and I felt an extremely gradual increase in pressure from his leg. Initially I thought I might have been imagining it but anadolu yakası escort it subtly became more pronounced, until his leg was quite firmly pushed against mine.The next thing I knew, his leg was ever so slowly moving against mine, like he was raising his leg off the ground a bit and his trouser leg was brushing against my tights (like most of the girls I wore a short skirt and as it was winter, dark black tights).Again, my initial thought was “I really need to pull away from this” but again – something in my mind said “no, why the hell should I”. As a bit of context – I’d been single for about 3 months (which for me, at that time, was quite a lengthy period). So yes, I did feel that I had a certain amount of ‘latent arousal’ within me I suppose.So I let him continue.The next thing I knew, he had slipped off his right shoe and was using his foot to rub up and down my leg. It felt good. I wasn’t looking at him, my eyes were fixed on the starphone on the table and the droning German voice, but I started to enjoy the sensation of it. It was becoming quite rhythmic and I liked the feel of it. I could feel the arousal and the heat building, deep between my legs.I shifted slightly in my seat, spreading my legs a little wider. No sooner had I done this then his leg and his foot suddenly became much more exploratory. He too now shifted his chair so we were sitting more to the side of the table, without the stem of the table between us. We were closer.His foot had now moved all the way up, above my thighs, and his toes were rubbing and probing my crotch. For the first time in what felt like months I began to feel really horny. That feeling where it’s in the pit of your stomach and you want to arch your back and let yourself go. I could feel the dampness spreading between my legs and that slightly dizzy / swooning feeling I usually get.The next bit is embarrassing and I am only mentioning it because this is at least anonymous and so I don’t really care how embarrassing it is. But I was wearing what I call my ‘Bridget Jones’ knickers because it was TOTM (that time of the month!) which I was pretty much at the end of, and I was wearing a sanitary towel. It was dawning on me that although I was potentially open to being ‘foot fucked’, I would need to do something about removing the towel (and my knickers).So I slowly got up and walked to the other end of his office. The offices on that floor are L shaped and the lower bit of the L is where the desk is, and the open plan bit where the starphone was, is on the longer bit of the L. So I simply stood up slowly and walked to the desk area, which is essentially around the corner. I mouthed ‘be right back’ to him as I moved (I still couldn’t look him in the eye). I got to the desk area (the desk was almost totally bare, they have a clear desk policy) but the printer on his desk had a couple of print-outs on it and I picked up the top sheet. It was his diary print out for ataşehir escort the following day. With a bit of jiggling, I was able to pull down my knickers. I folded the sanitary towel in the paper (it was starting to unfold but not a great deal I could do) and I put it carefully into the bin under his desk, underneath a sandwich wrapper. I folded my ‘Bridget Jones’ knickers and actually put them into my blouse (I had no pockets).I returned to the table and just kind of nodded. I think he was looking at me but I still had that heart pounding nervous slightly sick feeling because it all felt a bit too surreal. I hadn’t done anything like this before.I sat back down in a similar position with my legs fairly widely apart and stared again at the phone, attempting to concentrate on what was being said.This time as his foot came toward me, I saw that he’d taken the sock off. I do not have, and never have had, a ‘foot fetish’ but I do pay a lot of attention to a man’s hands (and his feet) more generally. Guys with ugly hands, bitten back nails, peeling skin, warts, etc, are a massive turn off for me. Feet aren’t so dissimilar. ‘Gnarled’ feet/nails are a massive turn off.Thankfully – his foot looked perfectly decent. Smooth, nails nicely cut and short, a wisp of blonde hair on the top of the foot, etc. So I let him continue. The next thing I knew – in what felt like a fraction of a second – his toes had moved up my legs, over my thighs and they were probing me. I hadn’t shaved ‘down there’ in a while and I could feel the friction of his toes rubbing me. By now I was feeling extremely horny and it was a bizarre feeling because it was like it was happening to someone else. I was leaning back in the chair as I like to arch my back when aroused and I was u*********sly opening my legs as wide as I could. I felt light headed and slutty at the same time.He was rubbing harder with his toes – opening and spreading me, and his toes were rubbing my clit. I was being extremely careful not to make any noise as the conference call was still taking place but I knew that I was breathing much more deeply and more rhythmically. By now I had spread my legs about as far as I could without falling off the chair and I was just enjoying this surreal experience. I guess I might call it a ‘foot job’ but that usually means something else. I could feel my sticky dampness on his foot and I could feel his toes inside me, exploring me.Instead of looking down, I now looked up and to my slight horror and shock, he had unzipped his flies and taken his cock out. It was thick, uncut and the head was glistening and it was rock hard. He was rubbing it quite slowly and his mouth was half open. He looked extremely aroused.The next thing I knew – and this happened very quickly – he had deftly pulled his foot back, fairly nimbly stood up and was leaning his cock toward my mouth.“No!” I said quite firmly. No sooner had I said it than I remembered to my horror that we were on ümraniye escort the conference call. “I’m sorry…?” someone with a German accent said from down the phone. We both looked at each other. “Sorry, ignore that, please continue” my boss said quite loudly but firmly to the starphone. There was a slight pause and then the German droning on continued.I knew he wanted a blowjob but that’s not what I was looking for. Too often guys expect everything – especially in these kinds of office where they see us as sex objects. I thought to myself “you can play with what’s between my legs with your foot as I find that kinky and it’s turning me on, but I don’t want anything else”.And so for another 10 minutes or so, that’s what we did. He continued to wank himself slowly while his bare foot probed between my legs, his toes moving inside me. The call ended, more abruptly that I had expected – probably because I wasn’t listening. I was conscious that his diary had said he needed to leave the office at 5.30 so I knew this needed to draw to a close. The other callers disconnected and, just as I was about to pull myself away, he gasped and then climaxed, spurting cum everywhere. He used one hand to try and shield himself but there was cum everywhere. Thankfully he had one of those spotted handkerchiefs that they all like to wear in his jacket pocket and he used that to mop himself up.Fairly firmly, I closed my legs and let his leg go down to ground level. I stood up and brushed myself down. I could feel the dampness around the top of my legs and I did feel a bit embarrassed. I just said to him fairly quietly: “I really need to go” and he nodded. I can’t remember what he said but it was something simple like “Sure. Thank you. Thank you very much.”I felt bright red in the face as I slipped out of his office (pretty much everyone else had gone). I picked up my handbag, headed for the lift and then went to the ground floor changing area where people who cycle in can shower and change. The loos are quite spacious in that area and for some reason, the cubicles are enclosed so you have total privacy.It didn’t take me long. I took my skirt all the way off so that I was naked on my lower half other than my tights. I put the toilet seat down, sat back, and finished myself off with my hairbrush handle. I couldn’t believe how damp I was and it didn’t take me long – just a few minutes. It was a deep, shuddering climax – the most intense I had had in ages.And that was it. I think that has been my only ‘in office’ intimate experience with an older guy in the office. I wasn’t looking for sex (had he not been married, then who knows). Most of all I wasn’t looking to be used as a sex object – but I liked the fact that he was pleasuring me and that I felt ‘in the driving seat’, rather than the other way round. I guess I like being dominant with men, especially ‘powerful’ figures like him. In many ways, that’s where the thrill came from, just as much as the sexual bit. I was controlling what happened.I left the firm two weeks later for another job and saw him only very briefly on one occasion before I left and we both acted completely as if we hardly knew one another (which I guess we didn’t anyway).This is the first time I have shared a personal, intimate story on a website. If you liked it, please leave a comment. Thank you x

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