Overtime at the Office
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It was nearly nine o’clock in the evening, and viewed from a distance, only a couple of windows were still lit in the 8-storey office building in the city’s financial district. The lit offices were on the sixth floor, which was occupied in its entirety by the North River Investment Company. The corporation was working on a merger with a large international conglomerate, and the past few weeks had been a frantic rush to get all the paperwork in order, reviewing the contract, and so forth.
In her small but nicely furnished front office Josephine Prescott stretched languidly, hearing the joints pop in her spine as she did. She was stiff and sore from having spent too many hours bent over her keyboard, and her eyes were irritated from the glow of the monitor and the fluorescent overhead lights. She was tired, hungry and aching all over, and she wanted nothing more than to go home and collapse into bed, to sleep like the dead until morning.
Jo hit the PRINT button on her keyboard, hearing the laser printer in the corner hum to life. She and her boss, Ms. Symmonds, had been putting in several hours of overtime this week, but finally they were done. Now printing was the complete statistics for their department: income, expenses, employees, projections, the whole lot. Everything had to be in perfect order before the merger, every number scrutinised, every asset listed, every expense documented. But at long last they were done; now all that remained was the final read-through, and then off to home. With the exception of the security guards in the lobby downstairs, Jo and Ms. Symmonds were the last people in the building, and Jo was sick and tired of overtime.
Getting to her feet, Jo stretched again and walked over to the printer. She smoothed her conservative grey slacks over her shapely hips and tugged a little at the hem of her jacket, which had slid up around her waist while she’d been sitting. She caught a glimpse of her own reflection in the window as she crossed the room, and nodded approvingly at herself. At 26 years of age, she worked out fairly regularly, keeping herself fit in spite of having a job that mostly required her to sit behind a desk. She had thick, long black hair and pale, alabaster skin completely without blemish (her mother used to say it was her best feature). She had small, firm breasts, round but slender hips and long legs. All in all she was quite content with her appearance, and so, she knew, was her husband Paul.
At the thought of Paul a small twinge of guilt went through her. With all the work these past couple of weeks she hardly had any time or energy for him, and that made her feel bad. Paul, however, was very understanding, secure enough in their marriage not to feel pushed aside or slighted by her work. For a moment Jo entertained the notion of an hour or so of delicious sex before sleep, but regretfully pushed the thought aside. She knew very well that by the time she was through driving the twenty minutes home she’d be completely bushed, with barely enough energy to brush her teeth. I’ll have to make it up to him this weekend, she thought.
This thought brought a dreamy smile to her face as she waited for the printer to finish. After 3 years of living together plus 2 more of marriage their sex life was, in a word, great. While they both knew neither of them looked like supermodels, they were confident enough with each other not to be embarrassed about their bodies, and this lack of self-consciousness coupled with inventiveness and willingness to experiment a little, meant that their sex life had not stagnated into a predictable pattern, but remained fresh and exciting. Paul had been very supportive over these past weeks, and Jo decided that something a little special would be appropriate. For his last birthday, she recalled, she’d let him put his cock up her arse for the first time. While it hadn’t made the earth shake for her, she knew he’d really enjoyed it, and truth to be told, it hadn’t been nearly as bad as she’d feared. She decided right there and then that after work tomorrow she would pick up some massage oil and leave it out on her nightstand for him to see, letting him know how she intended to show her appreciation. The thought of driving her man a little crazy with anticipation for a day or two made her pussy tingle; the anticipation of what was to come would make sex even more passionate for the days leading up to the event itself. Nothing excited Jo more than the knowledge that she turned her husband on.
As the pile of paper under the printer grew, the door to the inner office opened and Ms. Symmonds came out. Ann Symmonds was a tall blonde in her late thirties, curvy and voluptuous. Her long smooth hair hung almost to the small of her back, and her eyes were a clear blue behind her glasses. She was dressed in a fairly conservative business suit in dark blue and black, with a long jacket, blouse and a knee-length skirt.
Ms. Symmonds walked over to Jo, who was waiting for the last few pages to emerge from the printer. “How are they coming along, Josephine?” she asked, Çankaya Rus Escort a hint of weariness in her voice as well.
“Fine, Ms. Symmonds,” Jo replied. Although she privately thought of her superior as Ann, she always addressed her as Ms. Symmonds. She, on her side, always addressed Jo as Josephine; not to sound superior, Jo knew, but so as not to be overly intimate and intrusive. Ann was easily the best boss Jo had ever worked for, and she knew that the appreciation was mutual. Ann had climbed the corporate ladder through superior skill and innate talent, and wholly deserved her position as department head. Jo had the utmost respect for her.
As they stood there waiting for the printer to finish, Ann stretched, easing the kinks out of her neck and spine. Jo glanced at her boss, and couldn’t help but notice how the older woman’s ample breasts strained against her jacket. She blushed faintly, embarrassed at having looked at the other woman, and returned her attention to the softly buzzing printer.
“I’m beat,” Ann announced. “These past couple of weeks have been a pain, haven’t they?”
“That’s for certain,” Jo replied. “My husband must think I’ve forgotten he exists.”
“Trouble at home?” Ann inquired. Then, when she saw Jo look at her, she hastily went on. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, there’s no trouble,” Jo laughed. “It’s just that, well, we haven’t had much time together lately.”
“I know what you mean,” Ann said. “And I’m sorry I’ve been running you ragged lately.” She reached up and placed a hand on Jo’s back, between her shoulder blades. “Tell you what; as compensation, why don’t we both come in late tomorrow, say around noon. Treat ourselves to a little sleeping in.”
“Oh, that’d be great,” Jo replied. She was feeling a little flustered by the friendly hand on her back. Ann had never touched her before, respecting her personal space. Not that she minded; had a man touched her like that, Jo would have felt uncomfortable, but that was not the case now.
Ann looked at her closely. “You do look a little exhausted,” she said. She started rubbing gently between Jo’s shoulder blades. “And you’re tense; your back is all knots.”
Jo was suddenly aware that it was true; her back and neck was all tense, the muscles stiff and knotted. She felt Ann rub a little harder, easing away some of the tension. Ann’s hand moved higher, under the black hair hanging down over Jo’s shoulders, her fingers touching the soft skin of her neck and rubbing gently at the sore muscles there. For the first time Jo became aware of how close the other woman was standing, of the scent of her perfume in her nostrils and the warmth from her body. As the tension in her neck eased, Jo felt a different kind of tension settle in her stomach. It was a new, but somehow strangely familiar feeling that she couldn’t quite place. The two women were both standing very still, the only movement being the soft kneading of Ann’s fingers on Jo’s neck. Neither said anything, and the silence built between them like soft cotton, almost noticeable as a physical thing.
The eerie mood was broken when the printer before them spat out the last sheet and gave a soft beep. Ann turned towards it to look, and this caused her to stand closer to Jo. Jo could suddenly feel the soft swell of her boss’ right breast against her left arm, and for a moment she was caught off balance. Then she twisted away in flustered embarrassment.
Ann noticed the sudden movement and turned back towards Jo, not realising what had startled her. Their movements meant that the two women were now standing close together, face to face, with Ann’s arm still around Jo’s back, her hand on her neck.
For a moment they both stood there, looking at each other. Then Ann moved her thumb from the back of Jo’s neck and down to the side, gently caressing the soft spot just below her ear. As the finger slid further down the side of Jo’s neck to tickle the sensitive skin, Ann leaned closer, her lips seeking Jo’s.
Jo saw her leaning closer and instantly knew what she had in mind. She froze, mostly in shock, but there was a tiny, tiny part of her that wanted to stand still, to let it happen. Then her conscious self reasserted itself, and she pulled away.
Again they stood still, facing each other, Ann’s hand still on Jo’s neck. Ann’s face was only centimetres away; Jo could just barely focus on her. Looking desperately for something to say, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I… I have a husband…” She let it trail away, realising how lame it sounded.
“So do I,” Ann replied, her voice low and soft, her lips so close Jo felt her warm breath on her face. “I’m not asking you to elope with me, you know.”
“I… We shouldn’t do this,” Jo persisted. She was extremely aware of the other woman’s closeness, and while a large part of her wanted desperately to get away, that other tiny part of her wanted nothing of the sort. Get a hold of yourself, she silently Keçiören Rus Escort admonished herself; you’re a married woman with a husband you love. Still, that tiny voice persisted.
“Why not?” Ann asked, inching closer. “It’s not like I’m asking you to leave your husband. Just you and I, enjoying ourselves. Enjoying each other…” She leaned even closer, her lips seeking out Jo’s once again.
With her back against the cupboard, Jo had nowhere to move, so she turned her head aside. This didn’t deter Ann, and Jo could feel her lips press gently against her left cheek, kissing her softly. Then her lips moved down, past the line of her jaw and down to her throat. Again Jo froze, too overwhelmed to do or say anything. Ann might have taken it for acceptance, because her lips became a little more insistent, parting a little as they kissed the soft skin of Jo’s throat. Jo could feel the wet warmth of Ann’s mouth on the skin of her throat, and this sensation brought her back to her senses again. She brought her hands up to push Ann away, but Ann was standing a little closer than Jo had figured; instead of to her shoulders, Jo’s hands went straight to Ann’s breasts.
When Jo felt her own hands cupping the other woman’s large breasts, she nearly panicked. No matter what she did, she seemed to be unable to escape Ann’s gentle but persistent advances. She tried to pull her hands away, but Ann swiftly pressed closer, putting her other arm around Jo and hugging her close in a soft but firm embrace, trapping Jo’s hands between their bodies, still cupping her breasts. Tilting her head, Ann once again sought Jo’s lips with her own, and this time she wasn’t quick enough to turn away.
Jo felt Ann’s lips on her own, kissing her softly, gently taking Jo’s lips between her own, sucking tenderly, trying to get her to open her mouth for her. The only thing Jo could think of was to keep her lips together, but that didn’t solve her problem. Short of physical violence, she couldn’t think of anything to get Ann to cease her advances. Had a man behaved like this, she would have slapped him silly, but somehow that just didn’t seem like an option here.
Ann’s kisses were becoming more fervent, and Jo racked her brain for some way out of her dilemma. Then, to her horror, she could feel Ann’s nipples hardening, poking her palms through the bra. This gave her the adrenaline surge she needed, and she wrenched herself out of Ann’s embrace.
“No… please, I can’t… we mustn’t do this…” She was breathless; she hadn’t realised she’d been holding her breath while Ann had been trying to kiss her.
“What’s so wrong about it?” Ann queried, still standing with her whole body pressed against Jo.
“I won’t cheat on my husband!” Jo flared. She yanked her hands away from Ann’s breasts, but realised that might have been a mistake, as she could now feel Ann’s breasts pressing directly against her. For some reason, this made her throat go dry.
“You can always tell him about it when you get home,” Ann said, her voice soothing. “It isn’t cheating if he know about it. And besides, what makes you so sure he’ll mind?”
That last argument stopped Jo cold. What did she mean, he wouldn’t mind? Of course he’d mind. He loved her; he wouldn’t want her to sleep around with other people. Would he?
Her train of thought was interrupted as Ann’s lips found hers again. The kiss was soft and tender, not at all intrusive. Jo caught herself comparing it to how it was to be kissed by a man. Ann’s lips were fuller, softer; Jo could smell faint traces of shampoo and perfume. Her embrace was distinctly not that of a man, with her breasts pressed hard against Jo’s own smaller ones. As the kiss lingered, Jo could taste the other woman’s lipstick.
And with a start, she realised that she was becoming aroused.
Jo couldn’t believe what was happening. She had never been attracted to women, would never have believe that another woman could excite her like this. But there it was, and there was no mistaking it. She could feel that familiar tingle as her nipples hardened in her bra, and the growing warmth between her thighs that signalled that her pussy was becoming wet. In spite of herself she felt her lips yielding to Ann’s, and almost immediately the tip of other woman’s tongue slipped past her lips and into her mouth.
Her mind spinning in place, Jo was at a complete loss as to what to do. Ann’s tongue was probing her mouth gently, touching her own tongue, but Jo didn’t dare respond. Her own excitement was undeniable now, her pussy leaking juice into her panties, but something held her back. It’s not my fault, she thought. I’m not doing anything; it’s all Ann, she’s the one responsible. She started this. It’s not my fault.
This thought was strangely comforting. She wasn’t cheating on Paul if she didn’t do anything. She couldn’t help it if Ann did things to her, and as long as she didn’t respond, it wasn’t her fault. At another time this logic would have Etimesgut Rus Escort been preposterous, but right now it was a life buoy in a stormy sea, and Jo clung to it as hard as she could.
Sensing that Jo had stopped resisting, Ann became even bolder in her advances. Her hands went to Jo’s neck, where she put them, fingers splayed, on either side of her neck, while her thumbs caressed the soft skin of her secretary’s throat and the underside of her jaw. She started applying more pressure with her lips, trying to get Jo to respond, but to no avail. She put her thumbs on Jo’s chin and pulled gently down, and Jo opened her mouth further without resisting. Ann’s tongue pushed deeper into Jo’s mouth, licking along the insides of her cheeks and prodding her passive tongue. Still there was no response. Ann wasn’t sure what to make of Jo’s passive attitude, but right now she didn’t care. Her pussy was on fire, her pulse pounding in her ears, and she knew that she had to find some relief, soon. She fully intended to take Jo right here and now, and if she had to dominate her in order to do so, she would. Besides, this wasn’t Ann’s first time with another woman; she was quite confident that she could coax Jo into cooperating willingly as soon as she really got to work on her.
Ann let one hand drop, teasing it inside Jo’s jacket, cupping her breast and squeezing it. She could feel the younger woman’s nipple standing out hard under her hand, and felt a touch of surprise. Jo certainly didn’t act like she was turned on. Letting her hand drop down to Jo’s crotch, Ann pushed it between her legs, feeling her pussy. The heat radiating from between the brunette’s legs was easily noticeable; there could be no doubt that Jo was excited. If that was the case, though, why was she acting so strange? She just stood there, here hands behind her back, supporting her weight on the cupboard, passively accepting Ann’s caresses without showing any signs of either enjoyment or revulsion.
Ann went back to kissing Jo passionately while at the same time massaging her clit through her clothes, determined to elicit some sort of response. As Ann’s fingers started working on her pussy, Jo gave a soft moan and bucked her hips a little, but without any further signs of pleasure. Beginning to feel a little frustrated, Ann decided another approach was called for.
Jo took a deep breath when Ann’s lips left hers. She was feeling dizzy and light-headed, but told herself it was lack of air, nothing more. It certainly wasn’t because the kiss had any effect on her. Ann was also breathing heavily, her lips swollen from the kiss, Jo noticed, their lipsticks smeared over her lips. The blonde woman took a step back and regarded Jo imperiously.
“Open your pants,” Ann commanded.
Jo blinked, confused by the sudden change in her tone. Her hands let go of the cupboard behind her, and seemingly of their own volition, moved to the front of her slacks. There they stopped, hesitating.
“Go ahead. Open your pants,” Ann ordered again, sterner this time.
Jo’s pussy was throbbing now, and she ached to do what Ann told her to. If I just do what she tells me to, it’s all right, she thought. As soon as the thought formed, she felt as though a weight was lifted from her, and her fingers eagerly started fumbling open the button and zipper of her slacks.
Moving in close, Ann peeled aside Jo’s slacks, exposing the blue satin panties underneath. Then she pulled up her shirttails, her fingers caressing the younger woman’s flat belly.
Jo was trembling with suppressed excitement. Ann’s touch sent sparks of excitement through her, making her stomach go tight in trepidation and lust. Her breath caught in her throat as Ann’s fingers stroked her belly, moving downwards all the time. As the fingers reached the waistband of her panties, a small moan forced its way out of her. Ann paused for a moment, and then her fingers slid underneath the elastic waistband and into Jo’s panties. Ann gave her another open-mouthed kiss as her hand pushed its way between her legs, palm up, her fingers combing through Jo’s closely trimmed pubic hair and down to the wet, clean-shaven pussy lips. As those fingers slid over her clit, Jo moaned into Ann’s mouth, her knees trembling. Ann kept pushing her hand deeper between Jo’s thighs, her probing fingers seeking her wet hole with slow, relentless precision.
Ann broke off the kiss, pulling her head back to look into Jo’s eyes. “Kiss me,” she ordered.
Jo hesitated. If she kissed her, she would be participating in this, not just having it done to her against her will. Her desire to kiss Ann fought with her reluctance to cheat on her husband. Then suddenly a solution dawned. Ann had ordered her to kiss her, and therefore Jo wasn’t to blame for doing so. As long as it wasn’t her own idea, it wasn’t really her fault. With this (to her) brilliant insight, she eagerly leaned towards the older woman.
Ann’s free hand came up, stopping her. “A real kiss, with your tongue,” she instructed in a whisper. “And you don’t stop until I do.” Jo stared at her, eyes wide with excitement. Ann’s fingers were poised at the entrance to her pussy, gently massaging the inner lips with her fingertips without actually penetrating her, and Jo could feel the innermost joint of Ann’s fingers rub against her clit. Intoxicated with desire, the slender brunette leaned forward, closing the distance between their moist lips.
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