After the revelations about myself from the prior week, I was filled with something I’d felt very little of before. Motivation. Inspiration. Aspiration. I had so far in my young life just existed. Floated. I got decent at most things, but never really excelled in anything. I wonder how this ‘new me’ had come to exist. Was it all because of Mel? Or perhaps it was that I had discovered myself to be bolder than I’d given myself credit for before. It was almost a thrill to push my own boundaries like that. To aspire to be more.

Instead of slacking through the weekend, half-assing my assignments, half-assing the gym, and just staying put, I truly went for it. I wanted to be better. I started my Saturday by signing up for both climbing classes and boxing classes. The lifting session after was also one of my most intense, though not my heaviest one (I was tired as shit).

I spent the remainder of the Saturday at the student library, working with the assignment. It was from one of my economics classes. It was weird how it took forever before when I only worked an hour at a time. But now that I made an effort, and spent some more time on it, I wrapped it up pretty easily. 

When I got back Trent even poked fun at me for being out all day, staying busy. As I stepped through the door, I was greeted with a football being tossed at me. I stumbled but managed to grab it.

“I guess I’m not the only horse horsing around,” he said, smirking.

“Shut up, Trent,” I said, tossing the Tommy-Wiseau-ball awkwardly back to him. I never played quarterback, and I was never good with the ball anyhow.

Sunday I started climbing. I got my ass handed to me by kids way younger than me. At least that was what it felt like, as they scaled some of the more advanced walls, while I struggled my way up the very basic ones. But hey, I challenged myself. But I would lie if I said I wasn’t happy anyone I knew saw me. With practice, maybe I’ll school the kids right back. What I didn’t account for, however, was how sore I would become throughout the day, and probably Monday too. 

What more, Mel even texted me. She told me the car was not fixed yet and asked if I could perhaps pick her up at her house the next day! I said yes as fast as I could.

*

I woke up the next morning, immediately took care of my morning wood, and got ready to attack the day. 

As a person who ‘waits’ for the week, I was actually really excited to get the week started. I was up early and before I knew it, I was lightly jogging to my car and jumped in just in time to get a text from Mel.

“Good morning. Hope the weekend-waiting went well. I’ll be waiting for you,” she wrote.

My heart rate started to increase. Immediately I felt the teasing. Even if she didn’t mean it that way, that’s how I took it. I quickly wrote back that I would be there.

I went to work out, worked on college shit and when afternoon came around, I hurried to my car and sped off towards Mel’s.

A few minutes later I was there. It was not the longest drive, as I think David, Mels husband, worked as some sort of maintenance man at the campus, thus they lived not too far away. To be honest, I didn’t really remember, or give a shit about David. As I pulled up, I saw her lock her front door and walk down the driveway, just in time for when I pulled up. I saw her car in the driveway too, meaning her husband was at home.

“Mornin’,” I said. “You quit biking?”

She grinned at me. Man, Mel had a nice smile!

“Good morning to you too, and good afternoon too. You have big comfortable seats,” she replied coyly.

I smiled back. She got into the passenger side. New sweats today. Black ones. She sniffed the air when she got in.

“Is that cologne?” she asked half-mocking. I blushed.

When I showered after working out, I borrowed a bit of Trent's cologne. He wouldn’t mind, and I figured he had an alright taste. 

“Aw, don’t be embarrassed, didn’t mean it like that. I like it,” she said. I almost choked. My mood was pretty good, but it got to a whole new level getting complimented. I felt my pulse increase and my redness increase even more. But she went on, like nothing at all.

“Had a nice weekend?” She asked.

“Actually, yeah,” and then I went on to talk about how I signed up for new classes and how I spent my Saturday mostly at the library. I was slightly worried I’d bore her to tears, but she actually seemed to listen.

“My, my, boxing eh, big boy?” she teased and squeezed my right overarm. My muscles cramped at her squeeze. 

“You definitely work out tho,” she muttered.

“Ouch! Sorry, I’m a bit sore. I haven’t really started yet. Boxing.”

“Maybe you can be a big boy and protect old women like myself,” Mel joked.

“Come on, Mel, you’re not old, I told you.”

“You’re delusional. Guess how old I am,” she said, demanding me to guess. I should’ve known this was most likely a trap. But I walked right into it regardless.

“I would say 35. Maybe 38?” I said, trying to seem calm and collected, but instead, my brain was firing on cylinders, trying to work in high gear, though not quite up for the task.

“43. Not far off,” she said.

“Really? I would never have guessed.”

“So now you know I’m an old hag.”

“You’re still hot, I would—” I muttered then trailed off, realizing what the fuck I was saying. Jesus Christ. 

I could tell Mel was somewhat stunned, but she recovered quickly. She sat upright and stared out ahead. But before she said anything, I tried to steer the conversation away.

“So how was your weekend then?”

She turned to look out the passenger window. Damn it. I got scared and ruined the moment. Mel obviously likes the compliments, so why would I be a dick and start talking about something that obviously brought tension to her life?

“It was fine,” she replied.

“David won his poker?”

“Of course not,” she said and looked back at me. “I think a drunk donkey would play better.”

I barked out laughing. I didn’t expect that from her. She joined in too.

“Sorry, it just can be a bit frustrating. Don’t tell anyone,” she said.

I moved my finger and thumb across my lips, mimicking zipping my mouth.

“Don’t worry, I got your back. It’s important to vent, you know,” I said. Mel rubbed at my shoulder and squeezed it slightly. I screamed inside my head, but remained calm.

“Thanks. David is a nice man… I mean, he provides for the family, you know,” she said, but she didn’t really sound like she believed that herself. Almost like she was convincing herself more than me.

“Don’t you both?” I asked.

“Yeah well… My salary more or less goes to my daughter’s college fund. David doesn’t really care about that, so yeah.”

“Wow, I didn’t know! That's quite admirable. What's your kid's name, then?” I asked, genuinely impressed. The compliment seemed to make her lighten up quite a bit, as she more or less beamed.

“My oldest’s name is Hope, actually. And she’s eighteen, so she’s barely a kid to you, mister,” she scolded me cheerfully. “And Maia is seventeen next spring.”

The rest of the drive was more or less chit-chat about her kids, college, and before we knew it we pulled into the parking lot. She went and got her trolly, I went and got mine. Working separately got me time to calm down, regroup and settle my mind. Mel was getting more comfortable around me, and nothing made me happier. She felt safe enough to push and shove at me, talk about her kids. It was truly bliss. And I was guaranteed to talk to her more later when I was driving her home.

The day went as any other day. At the start of each shift, we had to work around a bunch of clerks, interns and office people, but as the day progressed, the herd always thinned out until it was just the two janitors left. I did my floor as fast as I could, without being too sloppy. I sat on a chair outside the changing room, tying my shoes, when Mel walked up next to me and fiddled with the lock. We always kept the door locked, as personal belongings were kept there while we worked. 

I glanced up at her. It struck me how tall she was. I knew taller than me. But now Mel practically stood over me, only a foot away. It was quite frankly somewhat daunting. I could even draw in her scent. It was a good scent, I can tell you that. It was a mix of cozy motherly warmth, a grown woman's perfume and a hint of sweat. It was almost intoxicating.

“Be out in a minute,” she said and hurried in, oblivious to my daydreaming.

I scuffled back and forth waiting for her, contemplating how to talk to her, what and what about. I also wanted her to touch me again. Weird thing to say, but here I was. Every time she did, my whole body felt like it was floating. I tried to think of topics relating to her physical therapy, or her hairdresser background, but I didn’t know how to shoehorn that into a conversation. I wanted it to be genuine, or else it would just be awkward and weird. Maybe —

My thoughts were interrupted as she reemerged from the wardrobe.

“How was your day? Boys upstairs made a mess?” I asked.

“Nothing much. No carpets today. I’m going to tell the management they are going to stop throwing their garbage on the floor, or there’s trouble. How about you?” she said. We started walking out into the parking lot.

“It was alright. Still a bit sore, though, but it was fine. I survived,” I said.

“Looks like you did,” she said and got into the car.

Even though I yearned for more inadvertent teasing, I didn’t try to push it. She had already given me plenty, and I also wanted our relationship to be normal. Juuust in case, I was an idiot who read too much into things, or pushed things too far. So the drive back to hers went in some silence, with some small talk, but we both were kind of tired anyhow. I asked her how long she had worked as a janitor.

“Fifteen years. Certainly not the career I imagined, but a job is a job I guess,” she replied.

Before that, she apparently worked as a hairdresser with her mom but got tired of it.

*

Tuesday I spent working on more college stuff, and the evening I spent climbing and then finally my first boxing class. I was so fucking happy it was fitness boxing and not actual sparring. 

The female instructor, Freya, showed me how to throw jabs, crosses, and hooks, the basics. It felt so awkward. If I was getting schooled in climbing, in boxing I would actually get beat up. Kids half my size would no doubt toss me all over the place, no problem.

It was uplifting, however, to hear from Freya that I seemed to have some natural talent, as my punches weren't totally hopeless. And Freya was pretty buff and looked like she knew what she was talking about, so I figured she knew her stuff.

When training in a circle with a bunch of other people, Frank, the male instructor also seemed to have some faith in me. He especially liked my cross, I guess. For my own part, I struggled to remember to not call it ‘my right jab’, which made the other kids laugh a bit.

“Great work, guys. See you Thursday,” 

As I dried my hair and got my clothes, I saw several messages and an unanswered call. They were all from Mel. Normally I’d call, but I figured I’d take it in the car, in case it was something best not discussed in public. I was worried I’d step out of line on Friday and Monday morning. Yep, I was probably fired. HR was probably gonna have their way with my ass any day now. I had checked her out all day and said some things that probably could be deemed as harassment.

I quickly put my clothes on, picked up the phone, and headed out. I read the messages while I made my way over to my SUV.

“Do you have a minute?”

“Call me when you are able.”

“Sorry to bother you, but I need to talk about Wednesday.”

“When you see this, call.”

There also were two unanswered calls. It seemed urgent. I got in my car and called her back. A few beeps later and she picked up.

“Hi, I was working out and they didn’t allow—”

“Finally,” Mel said through the phone, sounding a bit annoyed. I hoped it wasn’t for me. But I braced myself for the onslaught to come.

“Listen, I can’t catch a ride with you on Wednesday. It’s…” she began, and sounded like she contemplated her thought for a bit. “It’s not smart. David… no I mean, I think I’ll just grab the bike. But thanks for putting it on the table.”

“Hold on, what?” I asked, trying to catch up. Here I was, ready to be yelled at. Turns out, I wasn’t the problem! Or at least not solely.

“Sorry. I was just telling you that I don’t need to catch a ride tomorrow,” Mel said.

I scratched my head, trying to find a way around this.

“Can’t you just bicycle around the block and then I’ll pick you up? All the construction you know.”

It was a far-reaching suggestion. She probably wouldn’t save any time this way, but I figured why not suggest it. Mel didn’t reply right away. I gave her a moment to think.

“That… that could work. I can’t explain it, but I liked the safety of your car,” she admitted.

“She feels safe in my car?!?!?” I thought as she spoke.

“Maybe it is those big comfy seats you got,” she added. I heard her chuckle a bit, which made me smile. Then she turned her voice into a whisper.

“It will be our secret,” she whispered and returned to normal. “It was not too popular here to be dropped off like that. It’ll be nice to only have to bike twice a week.”

“Yeah, absolutely. Like I said, I watch your back,” I said, stumbling a bit.

“I know you do. Talk to you later,” she said and hung up.

Did she just say that? Did she know how much I gawked at her? Or maybe it was because I said the same thing last time we spoke. Yeah, probably. I turned on the engine and drove home.

*

The next morning, Mel gave me the corner she would go to, and voila, she was back in my car again. We exchanged good mornings and were on our way to work.

“So how was your workout yesterday?” Mel asked. She sounded in a good mood today.

“It was alright. I finally began boxing.”

“Did you beat anyone up?”

“Erh, I think I might have a chance against either the smallest kid in there, who is like 9, or the 80-year-old lady.”

“Don’t underestimate that old lady, she might kick your ass!” Mel said, laughing lightly. 

She always seemed so tired on the phone, or whenever I dropped her off at home. Maybe even a bit downbeat. But at the start of almost every day, Mel seemed to be in a good mood, today included.

“So you’re sore then? I don't get to squeeze your arms?” she teased. A bit further than yesterday. I felt something start to swell. Did she want to touch my arms?

“Oh, you can touch me anytime you want. I’ll endure,” I said teasingly, trying to push a bit too.

The car went silent for a few moments. I gulped. I didn’t dare look at her, but I could feel her eyes on me. I prayed to god that I finally hadn’t gone too far.

“Don’t worry, I won’t torture you,” she said, smiling, looking ahead again. I breathed a sigh of relief. Not in trouble. Not yet.

“Thanks, cuz’ I am actually pretty sore.”

“In physical therapy, we learned that putting yourself in cold water, then hot water, should help with recovery. At least with professional athletes.”

“I’ve heard of it. I prefer warm water, however,” I said.

“Most people do.”

We finally arrived at work. Like all mornings, there was a routine. Get changed in the wardrobe, and go get your trolly ready. Then push your trolly to your section and get to work. This Wednesday was no different in that regard. Except now I walked around with a constant semi, threatening to become a full.

But today I was smart. I wore sports boxers. Boxers made out of spandex. Truth be told, they were always the more comfortable option. However, I chose them for the benefit of keeping my bulge from becoming too… bulgy. It kept my junk more in place. Or at least a little bit.

It was over halfway through the day, and I was almost done. It was weird. I only had one office left, and an hour left on the clock.

“Turns out the boys upstairs didn’t like to get yelled at, so there was almost nothing to be done,” Mel said from behind me, having just entered the small office I was in. I had been busy vacuuming the window frame and the curtains and hadn’t heard her enter. She might’ve even been here a few minutes already because she didn’t say anything until I turned off the vacuum.

I jumped a little, being in my own world, but calmed when I saw her.

“Sorry, did I startle you?” Mel asked, cocking her head.

“Nah, just… in my own world, ya know.”

“How’s the soreness? It sure seemed like all that waiting during the weekend turned into some training camp, huh?”.

“I guess it’s like they say, you get motivated by the people you surround yourself with,” I quipped. 

She smiled at that, catching what I implied. Mel moved over to the desk and leaned back on the edge of it. I couldn’t help but notice how her ass squished out as she let her weight against the table. I caught myself staring.

“So you gonna head on out? I could borrow you my car,” I asked. It wasn't a very good suggestion, not for my part at least. I was so stupid sometimes. Of course, she wouldn’t just yank my car.

I’d of course prefer if she stayed, but a lot of what I’d prefer was probably not wise to say out loud.

“Nah. I figured I’d help you out again. You being sore and all,” she said, grinning at me, and added, “Need your arms good and healthy, so you can drive me home, after all.”

“Sounds great. I’m almost done, however. I just worked myself down the corridor in the opposite direction today. Spice things up. But thanks anyway,” I replied, coiling in the vacuum cord.

“Oh, I thought I’d help you a bit in another way,” she said, giving me a half-smile. I couldn’t help but give a small groan. A small shudder went through my body. I hoped my spandex boxers did their job. 

Did she really just say that? My colleague? Mother of two children?

“It has been a while,” she said and moved closer. “I took those physical therapy courses in my 20s. I’ll do your back and arms.”

Oh right. Yeah. I forgot about that. But I was a beggar, not a chooser, so I was thrilled. I did love massages, the few that I’d got in my life when I did sports. And from a hot cougar such as Mel, I was more than ready to get kneaded like dough. She motioned for me to sit on an office chair. 

“You said you were sore the last few days, and you said you wouldn’t mind volunteering, so I figured why not help out my aching coworker? You should probably sit with your chest against the back of the chair, by the way. Yes, just so.”

I groaned slightly as I rearranged the seating situation. Both from actually aching, because I was after all sore as fuck, but also from anticipation. Like I said, a massage is a massage, and if she did physical therapy for a bit, she probably knew her business. And thirdly, it was another level of her getting more comfortable around him, which felt good regardless of anything.

I was almost trembling with anticipation. No fuck that, it was not almost. I was downright shaking. I felt her presence behind me, and finally her long, soft fingers brushed against my shoulders. Mel slightly pressured with her thumbs around my traps and my lats. I groaned, feeling my soreness. She pressed a bit harder with her fingers in the same areas, causing me some discomfort. But the good kind of discomfort. With the sore aching, was also the relief of tension.

“Jesus, you’re shaking already. You should stretch out more,” Mel said from behind me, starting to increase pressure as she worked over my back with more of her hands and fingers.

“Maybe, ah, god damn, maybe you could show me,” I groaned in slight agony. My distress didn’t seem to deter Mel however. She continued her assault. She then paused for a bit.

“Remove your shirt, it is getting in the way,” she said to me and took half a step back. It wasn’t forceful or demanding. But it was not a question either. It was… practical.

I of course obliged. I had nothing to be ashamed of. I knew I wasn’t ripped, but would certainly classify as buff.

Then I felt Mel move close again. Her closeness felt good, even before she touched me. Soon her bare hand would touch my bare naked torso. It was unbelievable. First I felt her fingers. Tracing the muscles in my back. Her touch was soft. So soft, it felt like feathers were gliding across. I got goosebumps!

She then increased the pressure, starting massaging my back harder, alternating between using her fingers and her palm. It was still somewhat uncomfortable, but not as much as before. It started to feel… nicer. It was actually getting really nice. My muscles sang from getting kneaded and churned by her skillful hands. I couldn’t help but give out small groans as she hit those good spots. 

“You certainly work out. I can tell,” Mel complimented. I felt myself blush. Getting a compliment from a grown woman just hit differently than from someone my own age.

“Yeah, I do some lifting,” I groaned, trying to seem modest.

“Sooo, big boy. How much you benchin’?” she asked, and laughed.

“Oh, many pounds. Several!” I joked back.

Mel then moved her down my back, to my lower back, running her thumbs along my spine. It was such a euphoric feeling getting massaged like this, I had a lack of words, so I chose silence. I doubt I could say anything intelligent, either way. 

As she started doing my lower back, things were starting to escalate slightly. When she used her thumbs to apply more pressure in my lower back, her long, firm fingers stretched half across my waist. While working with her thumbs, it seemed like her hands kept bumping into my waistband. I'm sure it was an accident. An accident that made me excited, however. 

Suddenly it felt like the tip of her fingers ever so slightly went under the waistband even, which made my cock spring to full attention. I was so happy she was behind me. No spandex in the world could hide this bulge. The pressure my boxers gave me was unbelievable. My strained badly against the fabric. Maybe the spandex boxer was not the smart move after all. 

Again, as Mel released the pressure she had applied in my lower back, her fingers brushed against my waistband. My cock throbbed hard, straining more against the spandex. And the next time around her fingers crawled a bit further still. Her whole nail had slipped under the band of my boxers. My cock throbbed even harder. It ached and flexed in anticipation. 

Then her hands moved away from my lower back. I groaned. I wasn’t disappointed, but I sure as hell liked the direction her hands had almost gone.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. It had been half an hour already. Damn, time had flown. While we had plenty of time still, we had to wrap up the last office. Or I had to. 

Mel seemed to notice too because she took a small step away.

“Thanks, that was amazing. Jesus, I’ve never ever felt so good before!” I exclaimed, looking over at her. I reached for my shirt on the desk but she stopped me by grabbing my left forearm and guiding it gently away. She moved to my left, standing above me, looking down at me. Luckily, my hard cock had gone back to a semi. The tent wasn’t as obvious now

“You’re not escaping that easy. We still have your arms. And they look to be a task on their own, I gotta say,” Mel said in a low voice, looking up and down my arms. Was she checking me out? I swear she looked at my chest too.

Mel started to knead her way into my arms now. Starting at my fingers, she gave light pinches to each part of my finger, moving to my palm. I had never had my palm massaged, but it felt incredible. And I couldn’t believe the grip strength Mel had. Firm and determined. Working up and down my arms. It was like nothing I had imagined. How much tension did I have in this body of mine? Every time Mel applied pressure, I groaned and moaned. Whimpered even. Not loud, just small sounds escaping me involuntarily. 

She then started to move across to the other arm, dragging her hand across my shoulder along the way. I shuddered a bit at that. It almost tickled and gave me goosebumps. Her bare hands felt so good against my naked skin. It was euphoria. My other arm got the same treatment. I could tell Mel was breathing heavier. She even worked up a small sweat.

“This is quite the workout. Might even get sore myself,” she joked, but in a lower voice than usual, sultry almost. It was more sensual when she spoke like this. I looked over at Mel to see what she was doing. She stood close to me. Almost leaning over me as she pressed and kneaded expertly at my upper arms.

“It feels amazing,” I said. I knew I had to get back to work.

“I’m glad I can help,” she answered, finally releasing my arm. She rested her hand on my shoulder a bit before stepping away. I sighed happily. The massage was over, and it was the best massage I’d ever gotten. I was eternally thankful, but also in a somewhat daze. Almost drunk from the tension relief, and the teasing. If it was intentional or not, it was so good.

I grabbed my shirt and put it on, remaining seated for obvious reasons.

“We’re running out of time, however. Finish the mopping and meet me out by your car. Phew, I need some water after that,” she chuckled and I quickly got up to get to work. 

As Mel was about to pass me, she added, “Nice boxers by the way.”

*

“Maybe I should work out too, you made me sweat. I need to lift some weights,” Mel chirped as we were on our way to her house. 

I felt so much looser in all my muscles after that massage. Like the tension had been kneaded out of me. Luckily, the tension downstairs had gone away too, though by sheer patience. I truly was amazed by her crafty hands, but also how good it felt to be touched by her.

“Man was that something,” I said. I was at a loss for words. “I don’t even know what to say, even. You got me speechless.”

“My my. Might have to treat you more often, if it gets you in such a complementary mood,” Mel said, smirking over at me.

I chuckled.

“I wouldn’t mind that. It was incredible. I could kill for it,” I said. She gave it a small laugh and looked away.

We drove a bit in silence. But it wasn’t an awkward silence, not anymore. It was just a pause. A break. Each of us was enveloped in thoughts of our new comfort zones. It was barely a week ago since I realized what a beautiful woman my colleague was. How good she looked, how good I felt. And it was not only a sexual charge. When she laughed at my stupid jokes, or when she was asking me about my day, interacting with what I said, I actually felt great satisfaction. Mel, my fine-looking colleague in her forties, cared enough about my day to ask.

Mel then looked back at me, then out the front window, like she had reached some sort of conclusion.

“Pull over,” she suddenly said, sounding determined.

There was a small abandoned parking lot just off the main road. I pulled into it, parking up behind an old building. Mel looked around a bit, then turned to me as we came to a stop.

“What’s going on? Am I getting mugged?” I joked, looking around. Nothing here but empty parking spaces, and the road at the opposite side of the building we had pulled up behind, which barely even had a window. The lot seemed pretty desolate.

Mel looked pretty serious, however. Serious and dubious.

“Don’t say a word. And don’t move,” Mel said sternly, removing her seatbelt. I nodded nervously.

Mel got onto her knees in the car seat as she bent her way over me. Her hair tickled my face as she slid her left hand behind my head, pulling my face towards her, parting her lips. Before I knew it, her mouth was on mine, her lips pressing firmly against mine. 

That first kiss was unlike what I’d imagine. It was forceful, but it was craving and yearnful too. Mel moaned into my mouth. It was surreal to me. Was I kissing my colleague Mel, who I’ve been looking at for the past week? Not only did we kiss, it was a kiss filled with passion. Lust.

After the first kiss, she pulled back a bit. I whimpered at the loss of her lips. But Mel was attacking again, even more, forceful than before. Her tongue came out from between her lips and forced its way into my mouth. I couldn’t resist her, and I didn’t want to. She dominated my mouth as we made out, taking what she needed, giving me everything I wanted.

I couldn’t believe my luck. I was in absolute bliss, getting manhandled by my mature colleague. Here I was, sitting parked in a secluded area, getting ravished by a beautiful piece of grown woman like Mel. Who happened to be older than me, and also my boss. My heart throbbed and beat against my chest, threatening to beat me to death from the inside.

I had no business being in this situation, but here I was. I didn’t dare move, scared to death to ruin everything, even though I was desperate to touch her. But she told me to not move, and I was going to be a good boy and do everything she asked. By the gods did I want to do anything she asked.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, I felt her right hand move. It had remained dormant on my stomach at first, clutching my shirt, but now it started to move slowly down toward my sweatpants. Mel removed her lips from mine, and her face hovered above mine, looking at me. Searching almost. Looking for any kind of reaction to what she was doing. Gauging how I felt. I couldn’t help but give out a whimper, sitting underneath her, in her tight grip, smelling and feeling her scent surrounding me. I felt intoxicated.

With her mouth slightly open she worked her hand down to my waistband. Instead of slipping her hand back up like during the massage, her hand traveled further. It went past the elastic band and into my boxers. My cock throbbed and flexed as her hand was descending. When Mel’s hand finally reached my cock I gasped at first contact. I couldn’t help it. The anticipation was too much. Mel traced her fingers down the length a bit before she wrapped her long fingers around the shaft. 

“Oh shit—” she muttered and glanced down. I did too, wondering if something was wrong. 

We could only see part of my cock, as my pants had been caught on the head, but it was obvious that she struggled to get all of her fingers completely around me. 

“Oh shit,” Mel exclaimed in a sultry, smooth voice, looking back at my face, back to studying it again

Mel tightened her grip slightly and then loosened up, and tightened it again. She repeated that a few times as if to check how firm it was. I was rock hard, hard as I’d ever been. 

To my immediate disappointment, she released my cock. I was quickly relieved when I saw it was to relieve my cock from my sweatpants and my spandex boxer shorts. She pulled them both down to my knees in one motion.

Mel moved her right hand back to my cock and grasped it once more. I moaned. And so it began. In a slow rhythm, she started to stroke my cock. Up and down.

“I had no idea you were so—” she whispered, sounding hot as hell, while she moved her hand up and down at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“long,” she whispered into my face when her hand came up. She stroked down as she finished her word.

“and thick…” she said most sensually, emphasizing ‘thick’ heavily. Her hand came up once again and stroked back down.

Her first strokes were slow at first, but with a firm grip. After a bit she started to go a bit faster. It felt amazing. Better than any other handjob I’d ever got. This was much more than just a handjob. It was an exhibition of pleasure beyond my dreams, given to me by the magnificent hands of Mel. I closed my eyes to focus on the pleasure. I knew with Mel’s skillful, deft hands I wouldn’t last long. I started to lightly moan with her strokes, confirming her skills.

Without warning, having my eyes closed, her tongue started to enter me again, and an intense make-out session commenced while Mel pumped my hard cock over and over again with firm strokes. She built up a good rhythm, squeezing my cock from head to bottom, with a small twist in her strokes. Precum started to ooze out of my cock and onto her hand, making it all slippery. Wet sounds of my wet cock getting jerked off by my hot cougar coworker started to fill the car along with the moans and lips smacking from Mel eating my face.

Mel pulled her head back again, and I was able to gasp for air. She was so intense when she made out with me that I forgot to even breathe. Not once did her hand stop moving.

It wasn’t long now, however.

“I think— oh god, shit, I’m gonna—”

“You know, you could cause a lot of damage with this thing,” she almost whispered at me. I couldn’t believe how she talked to me. It made it all even hotter.

“It’s so heavy. It would be insane to even imagine…”

She gave me a slow sensual kiss, playfully flicking her tongue against mine, sucking on it. Mel was sliding her hand up and down my cock fast now. My mind was in heaven, my body in absolute bliss. I was trembling uncontrollably now.

“... how good it would feel. I’m envious of whoever is getting wrecked by this. If I wasn’t married—”

“Oh shit, I’m cuh… Mel, I’m cu—”

“That’s a good boy. Cum. Don’t hold back. Cum for me. Come on now, let it out, that's it,” Mel encouraged as I erupted.

Spurt after spurt shot violently from my cock. If I had my eyes open, I’d see the first blasts shoot several inches into the air. My whole body jolted and jumped from the sheer force of my orgasm, as Mel continued to jack me as I came. I gasped and groaned, struggling for air, as I came in her hand. It was truly shocking how hard and how much I came. I looked down and saw Mel’s hand completely covered in thick white cum, more trickling down her grip. It didn’t deter her however, she just squeezed more and more out of me. Finally, the jolts and spasms subsided a bit.

“Shit. Fuck. Holy fuck. Sorry for cursing and all.. just… That was… that was amazing. You’re incredible!” I gasped, barely even to talk, feeling ever so grateful. Grateful that a woman such as Mel had been put on this earth. If I were to worship anything in this world, it would be her hands. I dropped my head back, cursing and panting.

“That’s what you get, showering me with compliments all week,” Mel said, playfully, smiling at me. She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. This time it wasn’t forceful like when we made out. It was gentle. I felt warmth expand from where her lips had been.

“There are… there are paper towels in the glove compartment, if you need,” I said, still breathing awkwardly. Mel bit her lip at how reduced I was.

There wasn’t a whole lot said during the drive home. It was mostly a few exchanged looks and some giggles. When we got to our usual corner, Mel even bent down to my open window and gave me another kiss on the cheek. She gently stroked my chin as she stood back up, and headed up the road.

Man. This was the best day of my life.