I have never been one to shy away from fishing off the company pier, so to speak. While I'm no Lothario, I've had my share of office romances. However, it's been several years since the last time that happened, so I sort of thought I had outgrown that phase. But it happened again recently...in a way I never imagined.
I'd been on this project at work that was being managed by a young woman named Laura. She wasn't my boss, just the person whose job it was to keep track of all the work, and make sure that things were getting done. I interacted with her on a near daily basis. I thought she was very attractive, but in a slightly prissy, ex-sorority girl type of way. Not really my type, but definitely someone I wouldn't hesitate to take a roll in the hay with. Hypothetically speaking, of course.
One night after work, Laura suggested that the team all go out for drinks together to celebrate a significant milestone we had hit in the project. It turned out to be a great time. There was a group of about a dozen of us. We went to a bar near the office that happened to be one of my favorite watering holes. The group must have had some steam to blow off, because in pretty short order, we were all whooping it up and having a good time. The drinks were flowing and the conversation was lively.
Laura and I wound up talking quite a bit. I hadn't really gotten to know her too well as a person up to this point, and was slightly surprised to find myself utterly charmed by her. She was also quite the flirt, something that I was only too happy to return in kind.
As the night wore on, members of our group gradually fell by the wayside, straggling home to collapse into bed. Before I realized it, Laura and I were the only ones left. We had been talking for a while now and I think we were both starting to feel some sort of chemistry, of a distinctly primal nature. However, I was determined not to say or do anything inappropriate. I still felt certain that this girl wasn't my type, and that anything that might happen between us would likely be limited to a one-night stand; probably not the best idea from a work standpoint.
As these thoughts were going through my mind, Laura suddenly said, "This place is starting to die out. My place is near here. Want to head back for a nightcap?"
I was shocked. All night, I had been uncertain whether our flirtation was harmless or possibly suggestive of something more, and in either case, acting on it seemed out of the question. But in an instant, all my good intentions were washed away by her sly smile.
"Sure!" I blurted, perhaps a bit overeagerly.
She gave a little laugh, probably picking up on the same thing. "Well alright, let's do it!"
Because her place really was close, and also due to the amount of alcohol we had consumed, we chose to walk back. The fresh air felt good. We chatted and flirted more on the walk. It was all very sly, wink-wink sort of stuff. A third party observer might not have noticed anything unusual about our banter. But inside, I was all butterflies. I felt certain that, once back at her place, things would progress quickly.
We soon arrived at her stylishly decorated loft. She dropped her work bag down on a table and broke out a bottle of wine. I didn't feel like I needed anything more to drink at that point, but a glass of wine seemed like a reasonable prelude to the inevitable. We plopped down on her living room couch and talked a bit more. Suddenly she shot up.
"Oh, you haven't been to my place before. Come on, I'll give you the tour!"
Living in San Francisco, one generally doesn't encounter large apartments worthy of a grand tour. Of course, the purpose behind this tour was really just the final destination.
"And this," Laura said after a quick breeze through the rest of the apartment, turning and posing coyly next to an open door, "is my bedroom."
Our eyes locked. We had reached the threshold. The time for flirting was apparently over. Sensing the sudden change in mood, I walked up to her until we were standing very close to each other.
"It looks very inviting," I said in my best Barry White voice, my eyes never leaving hers.
There was a pause as we stared at each other. Then we leaned in and kissed. Tentatively at first, but before long our tongues were darting in and out of each other's mouths hungrily. She ran her hands up and down my back. I ran mine down her hips, to her thighs. I didn't dare make a grab for her ass too quickly, but what I was feeling so far felt pretty damn good.
She started walking slowly backwards, guiding us into the darkened room. We hit the edge of her bed and fell onto it, me on top of her. We landed with a thud, and immediately started laughing, giddy from the excitement. We rolled over so that we were each laying on our sides, and continued kissing passionately for several more minutes.
Things started getting a bit warm. Laura had worn a knee-length skirt that day that showed off her fantastic legs. I couldn't resist, and began running my hands up and down them. They felt even better than they looked, impossibly smooth but nicely muscled. She moaned softly into my mouth each time I gave them a squeeze. Likewise, her hands started doing some exploring of their own. She gave my ass a few quick squeezes, then brought her hand around to my front, applying pressure a few tantalizing inches from my now raging hard-on. She brought her hand up to my chest, then around to my back. She repeated this loop a few times. Each time I thought I would explode. We were trying to take our time, but it was definitely a challenge, and one for which our patience was rapidly diminishing.
I finally decided to push the envelope. I slowly slid my hand up the inside of her thigh. I tried to savor every inch of new skin for as long as I could. The feeling was exquisite. Her breathing became more rapid, her moans more urgent. She definitely had no intentions of throwing up a road block. I took a deep breath and made my final push for the finish line.
Looking back now, I don't remember exactly what it felt like, what I encountered there under her skirt. I just remember realizing instantly that something was amiss. Something was not as I expected it. I left my hand where it was for a few moments, thinking maybe I was misinterpreting what my fingers were telling me. But no, this was something different. Something very different.
My eyes, which had been closed as we were kissing, popped open. Hers did too, at the same moment. I pulled my head back. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. I started to pull my hand away, but she reached down with surprising quickness and grabbed my wrist, holding it in place.
She smiled. "What's the matter?"
"N-n-nothing," I said. "I just..."
"Just thought you felt something?"
I let out a nervous chuckle. "Yeah."
"Well, maybe you did", she said. "Why don't you feel again?"
Our eyes remained locked. I was confused, unsure now of what was happening. Laura, on the other hand, appeared to be experiencing no hesitation at all. Her wrist still gripping my hand, she slowly moved it back up her thigh.
I felt something fleshy, and soft. But not too soft. As in, not feminine soft.
She continued moving my hand upward. My breath caught in my throat. The bottom felt like it was dropping out of my stomach. My hand was now resting on what was unmistakably a semi-erect cock.
"What the...?" I managed to stammer. I looked down, but both our hands were now under her skirt, so I couldn't actually see anything. Not that I needed to. I'd handled my own meat enough times to know that feeling. Feeling one that wasn't attached to me, however, was disorienting, to say the least.
For a moment, she didn't say anything. The look on her face was enough to tell me that she was really enjoying my befuddlement and - yes, I'll admit it - fear. In one moment, everything I thought I knew - about her, about that night, about myself - was swimming around in a dizzying circle.
"Is that a little more than you bargained for?" she asked, grinning.
"Uh, listen..."
She pressed my hand harder against her dick. I was amazed to realize I could feel it swelling. It was already close to mine in size, and it felt like it had a little ways to go yet.
"No, you listen" she said, before I could get any more words out. "Don't freak out on me here. I'm a woman, OK? I'm all woman. I just happen to come with a little something extra."
"Uh...yeah, I'd say so!"
"So what do you think?" she asked. "Are you going to wuss out? Huh?" There was an air of taunting in her voice. It reminded me of times when my male friends and I would try to goad each other into doing something stupid. I was flabbergasted. Reaching up her skirt and finding a dick was insane enough. But here she was, totally unapologetic about it. Something about her air conveyed the feeling that, not only did she not think I should be put off by this, but I should be jumping for joy at the prospect.
Completely unsure how to react to the situation, I did the natural thing: nothing.
She released her grip on my wrist, slowly, as if to make sure I wouldn't yank my hand away and run screaming for the door. A good chunk of me wanted to do just that, but I felt like a deer in headlights. She reached back over her head and turned on the lamp on her nightstand. The room was suddenly awash in light. I blinked dumbly at her, almost expecting her to look different, now that I knew (although at that point, I didn't really feel like I knew anything, still struggling to process it all). She reached back down, grasped the hem of her skirt, and ever so slowly started pulling it upward.
Her eyes remained fixed on my face as I looked down. She was enjoying teasing me, prolonging the mind fuck, watching my expression of utter confusion and disbelief. Finally, there it was, in plainview: my hand wrapped around a fully erect cock.
She threw back her head and laughed. The loudness of it startled me. I looked up at her.
"Oh, man" she clucked. "You should see your face right now. Seriously."
"What is this?" I said, unable to think of anything else to say.
Her eyes got wide for a moment, then she laughed again. "Are you serious? What do you think it is? It's a cock!"
"You just said you're a woman." My mind was reeling, trying to put this all together. I think I was still trying to convince myself that maybe this was all a mistake, or an elaborate practical joke involving an especially realistic dildo.
"Look," she said, her face suddenly appearing serious. "I can't help the way I was born. Bottom line: I am a woman. I always have been and I always will be. I look like a woman, I think like a woman, I act like a woman, I smell like a woman, I am a woman. My gender is about more than what's between my legs. It's a state of mind. And if you didn't think I was a woman too, you wouldn't be here right now, would you?"
I didn't know what to say. At this point in the night, anything seemed plausible. She was right; the electricity that had been there between us all night didn't lie. At every turn in our mating dance, she had acted and reacted in all the ways that females do. Everything about her screamed woman. Everything, that is, except the thing in my hand.
I looked back down. For the first time, I noticed how gorgeous her cock was. Like any red-blooded American male, I've seen my share of hard dicks in porn films and photo spreads. I never thought of them as anything more than props; sex toys for the female models to play with. But hers really was beautiful. The color of her short, wispy blonde pubes matched the hair on her head. Her balls hung loosely, big and round. Her shaft was long and thick, at least 7 inches, probably more. The skin tone, like the rest of her, was light except for the head, which was bulbous and firey red.
Gently, she brought her hand back down to mine. The tone in her voice was suddenly softer. "Touch me," she whispered. "Touch me."
I was mesmerized by the sight of her cock in my hand. Before I knew it, I was stroking her. Very slowly at first, still getting used to the feel of it. Her skin felt hot. I could feel the veins bulging.
"That's it," she breathed. I looked up at her face. Her head was now tilted back and her eyes were closed. She was a woman, yes, but in that moment, I saw something very familiar in her. I thought back to all the times I had been with a woman who was perhaps struggling to cling to some shred of self control, while I was using all the charms at my disposal to break her down, to use her for my own pleasure. I suddenly saw right through Laura's technique.
Step one: come out aggressive. She knocked me off my guard with her brash manner. She made no apology for what I found between her legs, and in fact had suggested that it would be silly of me to turn away from this opportunity. Step two: come back with some gentle coaxing. Purr some sweet nothings. Make them think that they and they alone hold the key to your pleasure in their hands. And that's exactly how she landed me. Now here I was, massaging her stiff tool while she lay back, moaning in pleasure.
I didn't care. Somewhere along the way, I just stopped thinking. Whether it was the alcohol or the surreality of it all, I decided to ride this night wherever it took me.
Gradually, I quicked the pace of my handjob. Laura's breathing deepened. My strokes were long, sliding down to the base of her shaft and then milking her rod all the way up to the head. Knowing what felt good on my own dick, I started giving a little extra squeeze with my thumb and forefinger just under the base of the head on each upstroke. "Oh god!" she blurted out the first time I did it. I smiled in spite of myself, taking satisfaction in knowing that I was making her feel so good.
I noticed that my body had slowly slid down the bed while I was jerking her off. Instead of being face to face with her, my head was now down by her waist. It was as if I felt drawn in by her cock, fascinated by it and wanting to be nearer to it, to see up close what it looked like as I stroked it.
Suddenly, I felt Laura's hand applying gentle pressure on the back of my head. I looked up. She was looking at me again, still breathing heavily, her face twisted in that familiar mask of agony and ecstacy. She looked as though the power of speech was just a bit beyond her at that moment. So, she was taking the more direct route to communicating her desires.
I realized that this was what I wanted too, what I had in fact been heading towards for the last few minutes. I looked back down at her cock, which was now mere inches from my face. Laura's hand was still on my head, guiding me ever more urgently to her throbbing tool. When it was just short of my lips I stopped, savoring the moment. The tip of her cock seemed to fill my whole field of vision. Or at least, it was all I cared to focus on at that moment. Then, slowly, I placed my lips softly on the tip and gave it a light kiss. Once there, I found that I didn't want to take them away. The sensation was amazing. Laura continued pushing me down, and slowly the head of her cock filled my entire mouth. She let out a long and lusty moan as it slid in.
With my right hand still wrapped around the base of her shaft, I swallowed as much of her dick as I could. I only managed a few inches, which disappointed me, as I wanted to have it all inside me. I was suddenly hungrier for her cock than I had ever been for anything. Knowing how badly she wanted me to suck her off, and feeling her hand on the back of my head, keeping me at my task, was an incredible turn-on. I kept my lips wrapped tightly around the shaft as I pulled back up, then quickly back down. Unlike the handjob, I did not even attempt to tease her with slow strokes. I was overcome by a lust I had never experienced before. My head bobbed up and down as I furiously jerked her off with my mouth.
I have always enjoyed pleasuring a woman; at my best, I pride myself on being a generous and considerate lover. But there was something about sucking Laura off that took that sensation to a whole different plane. I was pleasuring a woman, yes, but I was also pleasuring a man, or at least a man's equipment. For the first time in my life, I felt like the shoe was on the other foot, so to speak. Normally, even when I go down on a woman, I still feel like I am somehow in control. But sucking a cock is something else entirely. Now, I was not the one penetrating with my tongue; I was being penetrated.
I could feel Laura's hand sweeping my hair to one side, and I recognized that familiar move; she wanted to get a better look at her cock thrusting in and out of my mouth. Then, she brought her hand down to mine, the one that was grasping her shaft. She wrapped it around my hand so that she was now also clutching her rod, and began making up and down strokes. I thought she was trying to tell me to jerk her off as I sucked her. But then she gradually moved her hand down until she had replaced my own. She now started jerking herself off in my mouth, while using her other hand to hold my head in place. With nothing for my hands to do, I placed them on the bed on either side of her and steadied myself while she fucked my mouth.
Suddenly I felt a jolt of pain in my scalp. Laura had grabbed a fistful of my hair. Before I knew it, she was forcefully yanking my head up and down on her cock, madly skull-fucking me. The sensation of being used so roughly sent simultaneous jolts of humiliation and arousal through my entire body. It hurt like hell, but I didn't care. The feeling of her hot meat sliding in and out of my mouth was all that mattered. Periodically she would stop, hold my head in place so that only the tip of her cock was in my mouth, and stroke herself vigorously with her other hand. After about 30 seconds, she would resume bobbing my head up and down her shaft.
I could taste her pre-cum, coating the inside of my mouth. The smell filled my nostrils. It covered the length of her shaft, mixed with my saliva. With her other hand, she started massaging her balls. Her breathing became even more rapid. Her moans had turned into heaving cries that sounded desparate, animalistic. I was overwhelmed by how turned on I was at being used this way; I knew that at this moment, lost in the throes of passion, I was nothing more to her than a wet hole to stick her cock in.
Suddenly she pulled my head up off her dick. "Oh god!" she cried. "I'm gonna cum! Flip over!"
Without waiting for me to comply, she took me by the shoulders and forcefully pushed me over so that I was laying on my back. In one fluid motion, she got up and climbed on top of me so that she was straddling my chest. Before I had a chance to react, she grabbed her cock and shoved it roughly back into my mouth. She began pistoning her hips furiously, fucking my face with abandon. I nearly gagged before I was able to get my breathing under control. Her balls made an audible slapping sound against my chin with each thrust. With her hands she began massaging her small but perky tits, twisting and pulling at her nipples.
Suddenly, she could hold back no more. "Oh god!" she cried again, this time even more urgent than the last. With her right hand, she pulled her dick from my mouth and began jerking it rapidly. The first salvo came quickly and forcefully. A thick rope of white cum hit me square in the face, splattering over my nose and cheeks. She aimed the next two blasts at my wide open mouth, filling it with her hot spunk. Some of it trickled down my throat, but I kept as much of it in my mouth as possible, to savor the taste. And still it kept coming. My entire face felt coated with her jizz.
She released her grip on her cock, grabbed hold of my head with both her hands, and once again started bobbing my mouth up and down her shaft. I could feel two streams of cum trickling out the sides of my mouth, while still more was fed down my throat. The air was thick with the pungent aroma of her juice.
I could tell she was nearing the end of what had obviously been an earth-shaking orgasm. She pulled her cock out of my mouth and gently stroked it, milking the last few drops of cum directly into my open mouth. When she finally had no more to give she stopped stroking and brought the head up to my lips, which I took as my cue to lightly kiss and suck it, cleaning it of the last traces of cum.
She gave out one last heaving sigh and slowly crawled off me, flopping down on the bed next to me. She was clearly spent. She turned her head to look at me for a moment, then laughed lightly. I can only imagine what a sight I must have been, my face dripping with her spunk. She rolled over on her side so that she was pressing up against me. She brought her index finger up to my face and slowly started scooping all her cum into my still open mouth. I greedily slurped it all down. When my face was finally clean, she gazed at me with a look of satisfaction, like an artist who had just finished a painting. Then she smiled.
"What?", I asked.
"I always had this feeling you'd be a good cocksucker", she said, then giggled.