I
I had problems when I was young. I won’t go into all the horrific details because I want this to be a happy story and no one likes a whiner. I’ve always been blamed for the decisions I’ve made going all the way back into early childhood when I didn’t even realize I was making decisions. But they say children are not responsible. So at what point did I cross the line? at what point was I “supposed to know” the right and the wrong thing, for me and for everybody else? I don’t know and I’m sure no one reading this knows either. No one ever taught me shit. I’ve learned it all on my own, the hard way. I’ve never been to Europe or the Bahamas or anywhere really and I probably never will. I am bitter.
Of course my girlhood wasn’t all bad. I remember something of happiness but it reaches me through the drift of so many awful years that it’s stained and I despise the mindless happiness of myself as a child and of all children. I kept for many years the sincere belief that the world couldn’t possibly be as bad as adults kept saying it was. It turned out to be true but it’s also true that they only tell you that in order to frighten and control you and I knew this and that knowledge kept me from believing it was true.
You never get rid of these thoughts you know? You have them every single day, you struggle with them. They take you over sometimes so that you forget where you are and what you’re doing. They eat away at you from within and so you drink, you smoke, you snort, you fuck, and in the morning your face is in the mirror looking at you.
I went through a dark time before I met Samantha and fell in love. I won’t talk about her too much. She’s sacred to me and she makes me happy but sanctity and happiness are boring and I don’t want to bore. She taught me things, about computers and applying for work, she got me out of where I was and into J&J where I’ve got my own little desk and console, my own little cubicle where I can put up pictures of she and I and our cats. She taught me self-worth and for the first time in my life I started thinking of myself as a real person. When she got sick and had to go on disability it was devastating. What came from the insurance company was only a fraction of what she had been making at her job and our bills started to get the better of us. I was good at my job and thought the time had come to try to move up the ladder.
My boss’ name was Audrey. Her moods were as changeable as her wardrobe; a beautiful haute couture queen who rolled through our maze of cubicles every day like a newly waxed Maserati: sleek, expensive and fast. Her husband Dennis owned the company but you seldom saw him. A stodgy square white-bread type who smoked cigars with a piggish air of self-satisfaction. I loathed the sight of him although I had the feeling Ms. Audrey had him wrapped around her dainty finger. I learned very soon, we all did, that she was not to be trifled with.
Her secretary when I first started, and she went through scores of them, was a pretty blonde named Bridget. I remember her voice resounding across the floor as she berated her for some filing error or other, scaring me out of my wits. They went into her office and a few moments later the girl cleaned out her desk and left sobbing. Audrey watched her and merely smirked. I began then to detest and fear her. I liked Bridget.
The second was this beautiful redhead named Jen, who lasted quite a bit longer than most of the others. She was tall and in wonderful shape. She made the mistake of mixing up Ms. Audrey’s appointments. After some sharp words that reduced the office to silence, (even the phones seemed to have stopped ringing in anticipation of her wrath) Jen was summoned in. When she emerged half an hour later her face was indeed flushed and I could see that her eyes were teary yet she did not clean out her desk. She sat there with a dreamy expression and a barely suppressed smile on her face the rest of the day. It was obvious she couldn’t concentrate and merely daydreamed and chewed her pen.
So it was with understandable trepidation that I requested a meeting with my boss. I was willing to do whatever she wanted, any new responsibilities she wanted to put on me, longer hours, I would do it, anything for my girl, anything to keep from going back to those days of hand-to-mouth.
She opened the door of her office for me and I entered. She was wearing a black pencil skirt that day along with a revealing beige blouse and matching sweater. The sweater rode up, accenting the fullness of her butt as she sauntered around her desk. She was one of the most attractive women I had ever seen. Did she ever notice how I watched her admiringly as she glided around, majestic and capricious, in spite of my personal dislike of her?
She had a transparent glass desk and I watched her cross her full creamy legs as she bent over, her ivory globes very visible, smiling at me.
“What can I do for you Teresa? You’re looking very cute today by the way, I love your hair.” Her voice was like a rich velvet fabric caressing my naked skin.
I found myself losing my train of thought. Why had I come in here again? She politely cleared her throat and tugged slightly at her sweater as if to cover herself although she did nothing of the sort. I snapped back to reality in my embarrassment and tried to muster my thoughts and my courage.
“I’ve come because, well…”
“How’s your girlfriend? Still working at ___?”
“Um actually no, she’s been sick and it’s a really tough time for us right now. Which sort of brings me to why I..”
“You want a raise right? Maybe a promotion?” She chuckled condescendingly as if she’d just said something funny. My heart contracted. She pushed a business card towards me.
“That’s my driving service. Dennis is away on business and I hate dining alone. Won’t you join me at Fitzcarraldo’s tonight? It’s where absolutely everyone is eating right now. Just give them your address. They’ll pick you up at 7:30. We can discuss all of the possible positions I’m considering you for and of course remuneration...all over supper and wine. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Her voice had gradually lowered to a husky near-whisper and I understood. I barely eked out a Yes.
II
I should have said something like “You know I have a girlfriend.” She knew I had a girlfriend. How did she know I had a girlfriend? And where her last job had been? But maybe it was just business and not a tryst at all and then if I’d said something I’d feel foolish and I would’ve insulted her right when I was asking for a raise. I turned it over in my mind the rest of the day and was forced to conclude, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that yes this was a date, she wanted me. I simply told Samantha I was having dinner with my boss so we could discuss my promotion. She wasn’t feeling good anyway. I gave her an Oxy and she went to sleep.
The limo picked me up and at a quarter til eight we pulled up at a little spot on a quiet street on the east side. It was like the entrance to a five star hotel: valet, a long canopy, box hedges and a liveried doorman.
I smelled money as I walked in and I liked it. I could get used to this and obviously this bitch can afford to pay me more, a lot more, I thought.
I was wearing a frilly Ralph Lauren dress of pale blue. It was the nicest dress I owned. The lights were low, the tables were candlelit and even the murmured conversations of the patrons emanated comfort and privilege.
I spotted her across the room and she gave me a wave from a spangled arm. She sat at a table for two in a little niche in a stone wall towards the back. She had on a black body dress, blue eye-shadow, golden hoop earrings and pumps that screamed “Fuck me”. Her full black hair fell to the other side of her exposed shoulder, pale and luminous in the candlelight. I gulped and my heart raced. Other than my Samantha I had never seen anyone so beautiful.
We embraced and I sat. The waiter arrived with a carafe of red wine. He poured for us and we drank. The aroma of Chanel warmed by her skin drifted to me pleasantly. I looked at the menu and wondered what the hell geoduck was. I’m sure she knew but I was afraid to ask.
“May I interest you ladies in the halibut? It’s our catch of the day, poached and served on a bed of…”
“That will be fine for her.” she commanded..”I’ll have the filet. Rare.”
Did she just order for me? This was getting weird. Yet I found myself strangely thrilled.
“You look adorable.” She regarded me, her elbows on the table in front of her, her fingers folded together and her chin resting on them.
“Thanks. I must say you look stunning.”
“At the risk of ruining our supper I feel I should get straight to the point here. I was turning over in my mind all the various positions in which I could imagine you. All of the myriad ways in which you could be of greater service to me and so I thought to consult your file more carefully. And I deeply regret coming across something very disturbing when fact-checking your resume. I tend to be so lazy about those things until I become interested.”
“Oh no” I thought, “please not this.”
“Turns out you didn’t go to college at all.
I had problems when I was young. I won’t go into all the horrific details because I want this to be a happy story and no one likes a whiner. I’ve always been blamed for the decisions I’ve made going all the way back into early childhood when I didn’t even realize I was making decisions. But they say children are not responsible. So at what point did I cross the line? at what point was I “supposed to know” the right and the wrong thing, for me and for everybody else? I don’t know and I’m sure no one reading this knows either. No one ever taught me shit. I’ve learned it all on my own, the hard way. I’ve never been to Europe or the Bahamas or anywhere really and I probably never will. I am bitter.
Of course my girlhood wasn’t all bad. I remember something of happiness but it reaches me through the drift of so many awful years that it’s stained and I despise the mindless happiness of myself as a child and of all children. I kept for many years the sincere belief that the world couldn’t possibly be as bad as adults kept saying it was. It turned out to be true but it’s also true that they only tell you that in order to frighten and control you and I knew this and that knowledge kept me from believing it was true.
You never get rid of these thoughts you know? You have them every single day, you struggle with them. They take you over sometimes so that you forget where you are and what you’re doing. They eat away at you from within and so you drink, you smoke, you snort, you fuck, and in the morning your face is in the mirror looking at you.
I went through a dark time before I met Samantha and fell in love. I won’t talk about her too much. She’s sacred to me and she makes me happy but sanctity and happiness are boring and I don’t want to bore. She taught me things, about computers and applying for work, she got me out of where I was and into J&J where I’ve got my own little desk and console, my own little cubicle where I can put up pictures of she and I and our cats. She taught me self-worth and for the first time in my life I started thinking of myself as a real person. When she got sick and had to go on disability it was devastating. What came from the insurance company was only a fraction of what she had been making at her job and our bills started to get the better of us. I was good at my job and thought the time had come to try to move up the ladder.
My boss’ name was Audrey. Her moods were as changeable as her wardrobe; a beautiful haute couture queen who rolled through our maze of cubicles every day like a newly waxed Maserati: sleek, expensive and fast. Her husband Dennis owned the company but you seldom saw him. A stodgy square white-bread type who smoked cigars with a piggish air of self-satisfaction. I loathed the sight of him although I had the feeling Ms. Audrey had him wrapped around her dainty finger. I learned very soon, we all did, that she was not to be trifled with.
Her secretary when I first started, and she went through scores of them, was a pretty blonde named Bridget. I remember her voice resounding across the floor as she berated her for some filing error or other, scaring me out of my wits. They went into her office and a few moments later the girl cleaned out her desk and left sobbing. Audrey watched her and merely smirked. I began then to detest and fear her. I liked Bridget.
The second was this beautiful redhead named Jen, who lasted quite a bit longer than most of the others. She was tall and in wonderful shape. She made the mistake of mixing up Ms. Audrey’s appointments. After some sharp words that reduced the office to silence, (even the phones seemed to have stopped ringing in anticipation of her wrath) Jen was summoned in. When she emerged half an hour later her face was indeed flushed and I could see that her eyes were teary yet she did not clean out her desk. She sat there with a dreamy expression and a barely suppressed smile on her face the rest of the day. It was obvious she couldn’t concentrate and merely daydreamed and chewed her pen.
So it was with understandable trepidation that I requested a meeting with my boss. I was willing to do whatever she wanted, any new responsibilities she wanted to put on me, longer hours, I would do it, anything for my girl, anything to keep from going back to those days of hand-to-mouth.
She opened the door of her office for me and I entered. She was wearing a black pencil skirt that day along with a revealing beige blouse and matching sweater. The sweater rode up, accenting the fullness of her butt as she sauntered around her desk. She was one of the most attractive women I had ever seen. Did she ever notice how I watched her admiringly as she glided around, majestic and capricious, in spite of my personal dislike of her?
She had a transparent glass desk and I watched her cross her full creamy legs as she bent over, her ivory globes very visible, smiling at me.
“What can I do for you Teresa? You’re looking very cute today by the way, I love your hair.” Her voice was like a rich velvet fabric caressing my naked skin.
I found myself losing my train of thought. Why had I come in here again? She politely cleared her throat and tugged slightly at her sweater as if to cover herself although she did nothing of the sort. I snapped back to reality in my embarrassment and tried to muster my thoughts and my courage.
“I’ve come because, well…”
“How’s your girlfriend? Still working at ___?”
“Um actually no, she’s been sick and it’s a really tough time for us right now. Which sort of brings me to why I..”
“You want a raise right? Maybe a promotion?” She chuckled condescendingly as if she’d just said something funny. My heart contracted. She pushed a business card towards me.
“That’s my driving service. Dennis is away on business and I hate dining alone. Won’t you join me at Fitzcarraldo’s tonight? It’s where absolutely everyone is eating right now. Just give them your address. They’ll pick you up at 7:30. We can discuss all of the possible positions I’m considering you for and of course remuneration...all over supper and wine. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Her voice had gradually lowered to a husky near-whisper and I understood. I barely eked out a Yes.
II
I should have said something like “You know I have a girlfriend.” She knew I had a girlfriend. How did she know I had a girlfriend? And where her last job had been? But maybe it was just business and not a tryst at all and then if I’d said something I’d feel foolish and I would’ve insulted her right when I was asking for a raise. I turned it over in my mind the rest of the day and was forced to conclude, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that yes this was a date, she wanted me. I simply told Samantha I was having dinner with my boss so we could discuss my promotion. She wasn’t feeling good anyway. I gave her an Oxy and she went to sleep.
The limo picked me up and at a quarter til eight we pulled up at a little spot on a quiet street on the east side. It was like the entrance to a five star hotel: valet, a long canopy, box hedges and a liveried doorman.
I smelled money as I walked in and I liked it. I could get used to this and obviously this bitch can afford to pay me more, a lot more, I thought.
I was wearing a frilly Ralph Lauren dress of pale blue. It was the nicest dress I owned. The lights were low, the tables were candlelit and even the murmured conversations of the patrons emanated comfort and privilege.
I spotted her across the room and she gave me a wave from a spangled arm. She sat at a table for two in a little niche in a stone wall towards the back. She had on a black body dress, blue eye-shadow, golden hoop earrings and pumps that screamed “Fuck me”. Her full black hair fell to the other side of her exposed shoulder, pale and luminous in the candlelight. I gulped and my heart raced. Other than my Samantha I had never seen anyone so beautiful.
We embraced and I sat. The waiter arrived with a carafe of red wine. He poured for us and we drank. The aroma of Chanel warmed by her skin drifted to me pleasantly. I looked at the menu and wondered what the hell geoduck was. I’m sure she knew but I was afraid to ask.
“May I interest you ladies in the halibut? It’s our catch of the day, poached and served on a bed of…”
“That will be fine for her.” she commanded..”I’ll have the filet. Rare.”
Did she just order for me? This was getting weird. Yet I found myself strangely thrilled.
“You look adorable.” She regarded me, her elbows on the table in front of her, her fingers folded together and her chin resting on them.
“Thanks. I must say you look stunning.”
“At the risk of ruining our supper I feel I should get straight to the point here. I was turning over in my mind all the various positions in which I could imagine you. All of the myriad ways in which you could be of greater service to me and so I thought to consult your file more carefully. And I deeply regret coming across something very disturbing when fact-checking your resume. I tend to be so lazy about those things until I become interested.”
“Oh no” I thought, “please not this.”
“Turns out you didn’t go to college at all.
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That’s all made up. You are aware that an Associates Degree is a prerequisite even for the position you currently hold. I was planning such a bright future for you too.” She sighed in a dramatic way. She eyed me, her prey, and seemed to delight in my discomfort.
All the thoughts of my misspent youth rushed through my mind in a torrent of shame: riding a stripper pole, giving dirty men lap dances, selling dime bags in the parking lot, stealing from people. I was just trying to survive and maybe even to live a little. To grasp at those fleeting joys of the body. Some parts of me had died living that way but then again a little of me died every day in that office, staring at that screen, doing my menial work while trembling lest this haughty queen become displeased with me. Was it any better or worse? It was just safer thats all. But one thing I had learned was never to be taken advantage of, to always have an ace up my sleeve if backed into a corner. The streets had taught me that and police stations.
I began stammering, trying to come up with something that would justify myself but I could not. That’s when I felt her foot rubbing my calf.
The food arrived. The wine was replenished and I ate my fish without appetite, the fork trembling in my hand. I watched her cut her steak, the blood oozing over her plate, leaving her potatoes and vegetables in a red puddle. She raised the cut pieces to her mouth, forking them between her full red lips and chewing with gusto. I kicked off my shoe and our feet rubbed under the table.
“I won’t fire you Teresa. You are too pretty to fire.” Her foot climbed up, rubbing my inner thigh. I hated this woman and I hated myself for wanting her, for my panties that were soaking.
“I’ll even give you a slight raise that is if you fill the positions I have in mind adequately and with appropriate zeal. And don’t even think of reporting me to HR. It’s been tried. My husband is powerful enough to blacklist you forever. Unless you want to be a stripper again.” She laughed at me. She knew everything about me. “Am I your queen?”
“Yes Audrey, you are my queen.” I meant it even while not meaning it.
A resolution formed in me. I reached into my handbag as if looking for something.
“I just need to use the ladies room. If you’d care to join me.” I rose and she began to rise with me. I put my hand on her arm, bent over and whispered “Wait just a few moments.”
I walked to the restroom and turned back to our table before entering. I paused and waited for her to look at me. She did. Our eyes met and we held them for a couple of seconds. Her arrogant eyes clouded over with the mist of desire. I knew she would come.
III
I looked in the mirror, tossing my hair back to see my face better and fix my makeup. Two heavily perfumed elderly ladies left the restroom leaving me all alone, chattering about the Hamptons as they went. I turned and entered the most spacious stall, the one with a baby changing station. It was a corner stall so our legs would only be visible to anyone entering if they walked a certain length in that direction. As the stalls nearer to the door were unoccupied it was relatively safe.
There was a small receptacle for disposing of tampons, I pulled it from its place next to the commode over to the right of the stall and placed my bag on it. Not satisfied I folded up some toilet paper and placed it under so that the bag pointed upwards slightly. I heard the door open followed by the click clack of heels. They stopped at the stall I occupied. I opened up and pulled her in. I locked it behind me.
She pushed me against the stall door, flipping me around. She unzipped me and my dress fell to the floor. She smacked my ass. She unfastened my bra and I felt her hands on my tits, groping and kneading. I kicked off my shoes and she slid my panties down. I heard two more chattering ladies come in, my face pressed to the cold metal door. She smacked me hard again. I cried out and their conversation paused. I mimed a ssshhh with my finger to my mouth and she grinned. Her hand slid between my legs. I gripped the coat hook hard in lieu of something to bite on. I felt her tits against my back as her fingers sweetly massaged my wet folds. I pressed my butt to her and wiggled. I whispered to her that I was her bitch.
She flipped me over and kissed me hard. I bit her mouth. I loved smearing her lipstick. I pushed her away from me, into the baby station. I lifted her dress pressing my thigh into her wetness. I took her tongue in my mouth and sucked it. I yanked the shouldered side of her dress down. Her breasts bobbed out, shaking. I dropped to my knees and pulled her panties down. She stepped out of them and I stood up to push them into her mouth. She received them willingly. I recovered my own thong from the bathroom floor and shoved that in as well. She looked just like a whore now with pink and blue panties in her mouth. I pinched her ass and she gave a muffled squeal.
Reaching behind her I pulled the baby station open, giving us a nice platform. I pulled her up on to it hoping it wouldnt give way and spread her legs. Her pussy was pink and beautiful, trimmed to a neat triangle, and the scent of her musk made me hungry for her. I dove between her thighs. Her body shuddered and she moaned with a stuffed mouth as my tongue lapped at her, immediately coating my face. I shook my head as I sucked and felt her body stiffen in response. Her hands clenched my hair. I heard the platform creak ominously as I cupped her ass, her thighs gripping me as she bucked. Her dress was still on, wrapped over her middle, her large white tits with their little hard pink nipples heaving over it as I ate her. I licked her like ice cream, letting my tongue linger under her hood, sucking her beautiful clit as she squirmed and pulled my hair until it hurt.
Someone had come in to the stall next to us. I saw her heels, they tapped and the toe of one pointed at us. I put it out of my mind.
I climbed onto the baby changing station. Audrey’s eyes filled with alarm as it creaked even more ominously but I held her gaze in mine and plunged my fingers into her wet center. Bluish tears ran down her face as she bit down on our wet panties. Soon I felt her fingers toying with my lips, struggling to find my opening. I spread a little and helped guide her and she was within me. I tried at first to stifle my moans but the rhythmic creak creak of the buckling platform was clearly audible all through the restroom so I gave up, crying out with abandon, knowing we would probably be arrested but not giving a fuck. The heeled foot swirled and lingered, wanting an invite?
We finger fucked in marvelous rhythm, expecting to collapse any minute. It was desperate and criminal. Plunging deep and twisting inside each other, we coaxed each others G spots. The entire restroom must have smelled like pussy. The heels left and I heard the door lock and then they returned. “Thank you heels.” I thought.
Her fingers were pumping me and mine hers. We bucked. We rode. Finally the platform started ever so slowly to bend downwards. We were sliding off when it snapped loudly and dumped us, wet shivering messes, to the floor. It hung there looking limp, vandalized and outraged. We had both cum sweetly. We put our clothes back on.
Audrey kissed me and said “You’re fired.”
“What? After what we just did?”
“It was a lovely time lover but I have no use for you now. You filled the position quite adequately so I’ll pay you until the end of the month but I should have mentioned it was a temp spot” She giggled and smiled at me but her smile faded in the face of mine which I smiled from ear to ear, with malice.
I picked up my handbag and removed my phone, disattaching it from a tiny camera that I’d thought to pick up at a website that sells surveillance equipment. This after a night in lock-up for drunk and disorderly during which time three cops had saw fit to grope my tits.
I put the phone to her face and we heard again the moans and cries and the creaking and buckling of the changing station. Her eyes went wide as she watched. She tried to snatch the phone from my hand but I was too quick.
“We wouldn’t want to let Dennis see this would we? It might shake his faith in you somewhat don’t you think?”
“What do you want from me?” she hissed.
“Head of Accounts.”
“But you can’t….”
“And that’s not all!” I said. I pushed her to the wall and put my hand between her legs. “This belongs to me now” I whispered. “Do you understand?”
“Yes” she gasped, “my queen.”
I took her fingers and removed her rings. I took about 70 dollars out of her purse. She watched.
“I’ll get a cab. You pay the check. See you in the office boss.” I took her face as though to bestow a kiss. As her lips parted I spit in her mouth. Then I left her there.
As I unlatched the door I heard angry voices coming from without wondering why they couldn’t get in. Heels came up behind me. She was a small timid looking woman of middle age. Her eyes were wide behind her glasses. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
I laughed and said nonchalantly, “Damn that was some good pussy.”
I went home to my girlfriend.
All the thoughts of my misspent youth rushed through my mind in a torrent of shame: riding a stripper pole, giving dirty men lap dances, selling dime bags in the parking lot, stealing from people. I was just trying to survive and maybe even to live a little. To grasp at those fleeting joys of the body. Some parts of me had died living that way but then again a little of me died every day in that office, staring at that screen, doing my menial work while trembling lest this haughty queen become displeased with me. Was it any better or worse? It was just safer thats all. But one thing I had learned was never to be taken advantage of, to always have an ace up my sleeve if backed into a corner. The streets had taught me that and police stations.
I began stammering, trying to come up with something that would justify myself but I could not. That’s when I felt her foot rubbing my calf.
The food arrived. The wine was replenished and I ate my fish without appetite, the fork trembling in my hand. I watched her cut her steak, the blood oozing over her plate, leaving her potatoes and vegetables in a red puddle. She raised the cut pieces to her mouth, forking them between her full red lips and chewing with gusto. I kicked off my shoe and our feet rubbed under the table.
“I won’t fire you Teresa. You are too pretty to fire.” Her foot climbed up, rubbing my inner thigh. I hated this woman and I hated myself for wanting her, for my panties that were soaking.
“I’ll even give you a slight raise that is if you fill the positions I have in mind adequately and with appropriate zeal. And don’t even think of reporting me to HR. It’s been tried. My husband is powerful enough to blacklist you forever. Unless you want to be a stripper again.” She laughed at me. She knew everything about me. “Am I your queen?”
“Yes Audrey, you are my queen.” I meant it even while not meaning it.
A resolution formed in me. I reached into my handbag as if looking for something.
“I just need to use the ladies room. If you’d care to join me.” I rose and she began to rise with me. I put my hand on her arm, bent over and whispered “Wait just a few moments.”
I walked to the restroom and turned back to our table before entering. I paused and waited for her to look at me. She did. Our eyes met and we held them for a couple of seconds. Her arrogant eyes clouded over with the mist of desire. I knew she would come.
III
I looked in the mirror, tossing my hair back to see my face better and fix my makeup. Two heavily perfumed elderly ladies left the restroom leaving me all alone, chattering about the Hamptons as they went. I turned and entered the most spacious stall, the one with a baby changing station. It was a corner stall so our legs would only be visible to anyone entering if they walked a certain length in that direction. As the stalls nearer to the door were unoccupied it was relatively safe.
There was a small receptacle for disposing of tampons, I pulled it from its place next to the commode over to the right of the stall and placed my bag on it. Not satisfied I folded up some toilet paper and placed it under so that the bag pointed upwards slightly. I heard the door open followed by the click clack of heels. They stopped at the stall I occupied. I opened up and pulled her in. I locked it behind me.
She pushed me against the stall door, flipping me around. She unzipped me and my dress fell to the floor. She smacked my ass. She unfastened my bra and I felt her hands on my tits, groping and kneading. I kicked off my shoes and she slid my panties down. I heard two more chattering ladies come in, my face pressed to the cold metal door. She smacked me hard again. I cried out and their conversation paused. I mimed a ssshhh with my finger to my mouth and she grinned. Her hand slid between my legs. I gripped the coat hook hard in lieu of something to bite on. I felt her tits against my back as her fingers sweetly massaged my wet folds. I pressed my butt to her and wiggled. I whispered to her that I was her bitch.
She flipped me over and kissed me hard. I bit her mouth. I loved smearing her lipstick. I pushed her away from me, into the baby station. I lifted her dress pressing my thigh into her wetness. I took her tongue in my mouth and sucked it. I yanked the shouldered side of her dress down. Her breasts bobbed out, shaking. I dropped to my knees and pulled her panties down. She stepped out of them and I stood up to push them into her mouth. She received them willingly. I recovered my own thong from the bathroom floor and shoved that in as well. She looked just like a whore now with pink and blue panties in her mouth. I pinched her ass and she gave a muffled squeal.
Reaching behind her I pulled the baby station open, giving us a nice platform. I pulled her up on to it hoping it wouldnt give way and spread her legs. Her pussy was pink and beautiful, trimmed to a neat triangle, and the scent of her musk made me hungry for her. I dove between her thighs. Her body shuddered and she moaned with a stuffed mouth as my tongue lapped at her, immediately coating my face. I shook my head as I sucked and felt her body stiffen in response. Her hands clenched my hair. I heard the platform creak ominously as I cupped her ass, her thighs gripping me as she bucked. Her dress was still on, wrapped over her middle, her large white tits with their little hard pink nipples heaving over it as I ate her. I licked her like ice cream, letting my tongue linger under her hood, sucking her beautiful clit as she squirmed and pulled my hair until it hurt.
Someone had come in to the stall next to us. I saw her heels, they tapped and the toe of one pointed at us. I put it out of my mind.
I climbed onto the baby changing station. Audrey’s eyes filled with alarm as it creaked even more ominously but I held her gaze in mine and plunged my fingers into her wet center. Bluish tears ran down her face as she bit down on our wet panties. Soon I felt her fingers toying with my lips, struggling to find my opening. I spread a little and helped guide her and she was within me. I tried at first to stifle my moans but the rhythmic creak creak of the buckling platform was clearly audible all through the restroom so I gave up, crying out with abandon, knowing we would probably be arrested but not giving a fuck. The heeled foot swirled and lingered, wanting an invite?
We finger fucked in marvelous rhythm, expecting to collapse any minute. It was desperate and criminal. Plunging deep and twisting inside each other, we coaxed each others G spots. The entire restroom must have smelled like pussy. The heels left and I heard the door lock and then they returned. “Thank you heels.” I thought.
Her fingers were pumping me and mine hers. We bucked. We rode. Finally the platform started ever so slowly to bend downwards. We were sliding off when it snapped loudly and dumped us, wet shivering messes, to the floor. It hung there looking limp, vandalized and outraged. We had both cum sweetly. We put our clothes back on.
Audrey kissed me and said “You’re fired.”
“What? After what we just did?”
“It was a lovely time lover but I have no use for you now. You filled the position quite adequately so I’ll pay you until the end of the month but I should have mentioned it was a temp spot” She giggled and smiled at me but her smile faded in the face of mine which I smiled from ear to ear, with malice.
I picked up my handbag and removed my phone, disattaching it from a tiny camera that I’d thought to pick up at a website that sells surveillance equipment. This after a night in lock-up for drunk and disorderly during which time three cops had saw fit to grope my tits.
I put the phone to her face and we heard again the moans and cries and the creaking and buckling of the changing station. Her eyes went wide as she watched. She tried to snatch the phone from my hand but I was too quick.
“We wouldn’t want to let Dennis see this would we? It might shake his faith in you somewhat don’t you think?”
“What do you want from me?” she hissed.
“Head of Accounts.”
“But you can’t….”
“And that’s not all!” I said. I pushed her to the wall and put my hand between her legs. “This belongs to me now” I whispered. “Do you understand?”
“Yes” she gasped, “my queen.”
I took her fingers and removed her rings. I took about 70 dollars out of her purse. She watched.
“I’ll get a cab. You pay the check. See you in the office boss.” I took her face as though to bestow a kiss. As her lips parted I spit in her mouth. Then I left her there.
As I unlatched the door I heard angry voices coming from without wondering why they couldn’t get in. Heels came up behind me. She was a small timid looking woman of middle age. Her eyes were wide behind her glasses. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
I laughed and said nonchalantly, “Damn that was some good pussy.”
I went home to my girlfriend.
