3:00 pm, one Friday in May.
Those tits are hanging in front of me again.
Loose within Sherrie's satin bra as she bends down unnecessarily to drop some mail on my desk.
Also hanging in front of me is the same question again.
“As a man, if you find a woman attractive, you should ask her out, right?” Her chasmic cleavage pins my eyeballs downward like a paperweight. Yeah, I know where her eyes are, but I’m human.
“Sure,” I sigh.
“Or, if a man finds another man attractive, he should ask him out too, right?” She probably thinks I'm gay since I’ve never hit Reply to her flirtatious missives, but I’m not that simple to label. “Does it bother you when men get together sexually, Joe?”
“No, that's their business.” And sometimes mine, but I’m not copying her on that memo.
“By the way, Brad is a good-looking guy. Do you think he’s gay?”
“Absolutely,” I note to myself, but the message I deliver out loud is “I don’t know,” given our priggish workplace.
“You always act so damned professional, Joe. Don’t you have an unprofessional side?”
“If I do, I'm not showing it around here. Times are tough, and I need this job.”
“Something I don’t have to worry about any longer. Did you know this is my last day?”
“I thought you weren't leaving for grad school until August.”
“I'm taking the summer off, and leaving town tomorrow night. Won't you pleeease join me and my friend Terri tonight? Just this one time? We may never see each other again.”
Not the first time she's asked, but now I can say yes without violating the no-dating policy. “Then we'd better make the most of tonight. Maybe I'll even show you my unprofessional side.”
“You can show me more than that,” she flirts before vanishing down the hall.
< = = = = = >
The three of us have a great time the first hour or so at the bar, mostly discussing Sherrie's future plans, but then she steers the conversation towards me.
“Was that your girlfriend you brought to the company party back in December?”
“No, a friend. I had just gone through a breakup.”
“But the bosses expect you to bring someone of the opposite sex, right? Even if you aren’t married or dating someone ... of the opposite sex?”
“Even if you're gay, Joe?” tests her friend Terri.
“Yes. And it’d be best they didn’t know that.”
Terri makes a sour face.
“So, what happened with your last relationship?” Sherrie asks, gently touching my arm.
“We always got along great, and we enjoyed hanging out and doing stuff every day, but eventually we realized we'd never find what we wanted if we stayed together.”
“Doing 'stuff?'” snickers Terri.
“Yeah, 'stuff.' Sometimes we even had sex.”
“Not every day, of course,” Terri challenges.
“Close to it, actually.”
“You must have serious stamina,” suggests Sherrie.
“Not really. It was more about giving as much as getting.”
“Oh, the world needs more men like that,” Terri declares.
“Amen,” agrees Sherrie, still fishing for my orientation. “So you and your ... partner ... broke up because you were still looking for the right ... person. Have you been lucky enough to do any 'stuff' with anyone since then?”
“Ha! Sherrie should ask!” barks Terri. “She hasn't gotten lucky and done 'stuff' in months herself.”
“Shut up! Just because you get lucky all the time, Terri.”
“There is little justice in the universe,” Terri admits. “But there would be a teensy bit more if you got lucky already.”
“I wonder how we could turn your luck around,” I muse.
“I have some ideas,” Sherrie says, pulling me in by the hand and gluing her ample chest to mine.
“Ahem!” Terri interjects. “So, she was pretty good in bed?”
“How do I know yet? Ask me in a couple of hours!” I joke. “On second thought, make it five hours. I just remembered what I said earlier about making the most of tonight.”
“Mmm! Stamina!” giggles Sherrie, gazing up at me. “Or do you mean that other thing?”
“Joe, I am asking about your old girlfriend!” Terri insists, smacking my shoulder like a malfunctioning copier. She’s not letting me paper over the still-unanswered question. “You know, the one you gave up daily sex with so you could see other … people ... that you still haven't started seeing yet?”
I pause to sip my drink, knowing the truth I am about to unseal will either shred my chances with Sherrie ... or bind her to me tightly. “Wasn’t a girlfriend.”
“Wait, so you're gay after all?” flusters Sherrie, stepping back.
“By no means. In fact, we broke up specifically so that we could date women. But we were open-minded enough to enjoy ... other things for a while.”
Smoldering, Sherrie mouths, “So fucking hot,” rubbing a hand across my ass. Jackpot.
“So ... I've always wondered,” ponders Terri, obviously playing dumb for show, “what do two men actually do together? I mean, if neither of them has ... well, you know, a vagina … where do they put their things? How does that even work?”
“Great question, Terri. What I mean by giving more than getting is that I am …. a very oral person.”
Sherrie stifles a squeal.
“Oh, I get it! Your relationship was based on laziness!” Terri mocks, playfully. “Giving each other blowjobs all the time, not having to take a woman out to dinner and hope maybe you're lucky enough that she swallows?”
“That's not fair!” pouts Sherrie. “I always swallow.”
“So did I. Which was nice while it lasted, but ... well, there is something special about a woman.” That goes for both voluptuous Sherrie and turquoise-eyed Terri. “And it’s not about their anatomy. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
Sherrie hisses, “I'll show you where to put your finger,” into my ear and pivots away with a flip of her lovely brown hair, excusing herself to the restroom.
“I heard that!” bellows Terri after her. To me she declares, “I'm so glad for Sherrie that this is happening. She's been tormented all year about you.”
“I really like her, I just couldn’t let on at work.”
“Oh, I know all about having to keep things stapled down at work,” she replies sagely.
Huh. Is Terri gay? No wonder she sniffed out that I'd dated a man.
“I trust that you will make this a very special send-off for Sherrie.” Her eyes glow like blue highlighter. “But after that, can I see you again?”
Hmm, maybe not gay after all. My mind forms a picture of Terri’s pert little boobs in my hands and my cock buried in her ... Oops, before I can complete this image and file it away, Sherrie returns.
< = = = = = >
“Was it fun staring down my blouse all the time at work?” Sherrie challenges on the way to her place, provocatively slipping one of her pliant boobies out of confinement. “I can tell you tried to keep your eyes off of these. But it was hard, wasn't it?”
“Yeah, it was hard, all right. My unprofessional side is the least I can show you in return.”
“Here, let’s raise the stakes.” She sucks an eraser-like nipple into her own mouth, my eyes practically springing out of their sockets and rubber-banding back in. “Show me more of that unprofessional side. Tell me about your first experience with a man.”
“Gladly. I used to go to my high-school buddy Matt’s place to use the pool. Then one day …”
She slips a hand up her little black dress as I unreel the unreal tale of Matt seducing me into mutual blowjobs. “Show me how you pleasured your friend.”
I simulate a sensitive and loving blowjob on the juicy finger she offers me.
“Wow, you might have to give me pointers. Which tastes better, cum or cunt juice?”
“Aww, do I have to choose?”
“Not tonight. I'll make you taste both.”
We exit the car and walk into her place. “Did you and your boyfriend have anal sex too? Him inside you?” I nod. Just inside the door, she push-pins me against the wall and power-kisses me, demanding, “Can I fuck you that way? With my strap-on?”
“Your wish is my command.”
“Ooooh! May I command you just a bit, Joe?” She leads me to the bedroom. “I promise I'll be nice.”
“I suppose I owe you that. What’s your first command?”
“Take off my dress and suck my tits.”
I comply, my mouth and hands pleasuring her pendulous globes.
“Harder. A lot harder.”
While I gnaw and squeeze, my other hand finds its way down across her soft brown blotter into the velvety folds of her envelope, reminding me how much I have missed the feel of a woman. I venture a finger back towards …
“Nuh-uh. Your ass gets it first.”
Sherrie pulls a strappy dongle from a drawer and slips the lucky end into herself, offering me the other plug. “Suck my cock, slut.”
After an interval of me polishing this plastic interface, she perches behind me, becoming the first woman to munch my hairy hole.
“Is your cunt ready for another hard cock, bitch?”
“Yes!”
She whispers femininely, “Don’t worry, I'll be gentle.” We both moan loudly as she presses her lubed hole-punch into my outlet. “You want to get drilled like a whore, don’t you?”
“Yes! Fuck me like a whore!”
She reams my male slot for a couple of minutes, stamps my ass with a spanking, then demands, “Flip over, slut! Let me look you in the eye while I give you the pounding you deserve!”
She softens to her tender persona as I lie on my back. She kisses me and gently rubs my shaft. “I won’t be like this all night. Will you indulge me a few more minutes?”
“Sure, this is hotter than fuck.”
“Then ‘fuck’ is what you shall get. You have been a naughty, teasing bitch for months. I'm taking your cunt, cunt!”
As our bodies writhe around her coupler, our tongues curling together and my hands wringing her soft hangers, she changes her angle slightly. A white glob emerges against her soft belly.
“You're cumming from this?”
“Not exactly. You must have bumped my prostate. I haven’t cum for real yet.”
“My little harlot has multiple orgasms? You deserve a reward.”
She pulls out and licks the mess off my glue stick for a few heavenly seconds. Then she climbs back on, lifting one of my legs to enable a deep scissor position. “That’s some tasty cunt juice, my little concubine. Let’s finish this!”
Sherrie’s rubber rod churns my entrails again, her plump body bucking furiously against the other side of the adapter as we make love. “Oh, you beautiful whore! Your tight little pussy is making me cum, bitch!” She convulses in a groaning orgasm and collapses on me.
She kisses me tenderly. “We don’t have to play that game anymore. Now it's your turn.”
She finishes the blowjob she started earlier. And yes, she swallows. We spend more hours pleasing each other, just as promised earlier. That includes plenty of giving as well as getting while I recover between deliveries to both her inbox and outbox.
As we finally collapse contentedly, the ink barely dry on the night’s festivities, Sherrie murmurs, “Thanks for letting me fuck you tonight, Joe.”
“My pleasure. I enjoyed the strap-on business more than I expected.”
“You’re going to enjoy Terri plowing your ass even more.”
“Why more?”
“She doesn't need a strap-on.”