As the Communications Director for a large national company, I had a lot of leeway in what was transmitted to our business partners, investors and the media when it came to having anything to do with our company. We were rarely in the news, and I liked it that way. Most of the external communications were in the form of quarterly filings and forward looking statement out to investors by our financial team.

The executive offices were staffed by a bevy of very young and very smart executive assistants. One young lady had to take care of myself, and two other senior level executives. Her name was Yvonne. Yvonne had a boyfriend, but she never talked much about him, mostly because she was a very private person.

I had a crush on Yvonne from the very first time I saw her, when I went in for a job interview. Because she had a boyfriend and I was married, I made sure our contacts remained professional, even though I will admit to sneaking peeks down her blouse whenever I could get away with it. I am sure she knew I was looking, but she never said anything.

I knew Yvonne had a wild side, because I spied a discreet tattoo on her ankle and a “tramp stamp” on her lower back, when she allowed her shirt to ride high while bending over and doing some filing in my office.

Yvonne always dressed very professional and I liked that.

On more than one occasion, I enjoyed asking Yvonne out for lunch, and always with a customer for business, so as to avoid any implications of anything improper occurring. On more than one occasion, some of my male co-hearts and business customers would later comment that if they worked in my office, no work would get done for all the in-office screwing that would be taking place.

Yvonne was about five foot three and was height and weight proportionate. She had mammoth-sized breasts, but wore them well. Her dark brown hair was mid-back long and curled at the ends. I liked the way she kept it styled so she could wear bangs.

Yvonne and I had a platonic relationship, but on one occasion, we broke the cardinal rule. I had been out to lunch with a client and had a few drinks, so when I got back to the office, I was feeling real good and very relaxed. Our executive suite had a private work out area and dry sauna. I never used it, but I knew that Yvonne did. It was close to five and Yvonne told me she was going to go workout and relax in the sauna. I don’t know if it was the four glasses of wine that did it or that I was just curious to see where things might would go, but I decided to check out the executive workout area. Yvonne had changed in the private restrooms outside of my office and I had caught a glimpse of her in her tight fitting workout outfit, heading for the work out area.

I didn’t see Yvonne in the work out area, so I decided to head home. I passed the dry sauna and heard soft moans coming from behind the closed door. I stood and listened, just to be sure that what I thought I had heard was actually what I had heard.

The green light was on, which meant someone was in the dry sauna. I cracked the door open and there was Yvonne, laying on her side, wrapped in a towel, one hand hidden in the crease of the towel.

“Are you OK?” I inquired.

“Oh shit!” Yvonne replied, startled by my intrusion into the small cedar lined room.

I apologized and explained that I was just checking to make sure everything was OK. Yvonne smiled, seeing that it was me.

“You should join me.”

“I don’t have any workout gear or a towel.”

“There are extra towels in the holder. Come on.”

I grabbed a towel and headed to the men’s changing area. I stripped down to my boxer shorts and wrapped the towel around my lower torso. I stepped into the dry sauna, just as Yvonne was adding water to the hot stones, creating a thick fog in the room. It was not only humid, but extremely hot.

I took a seat on the cedar bench, as Yvonne sat on the opposite side of the room about five feet from me.

“Is it too hot?”

“No,” I responded, “It feels good.”

I learned something very quickly that day: never go in a dry sauna after consuming four glasses of wine. Within minutes, my head was spinning and then suddenly without warning, everything went dark. I woke up and Yvonne was leaning over me, her face only inches from mine. I could see straight down the top of her towel.

“Are you OK?”

I reached out and grabbed her by the back of her neck and pulled her in close. We kissed, just briefly.

“You scared me,” she remarked.

“I scared myself,” I replied.

She turned to re-take her seat and I grabbed her towel. I gave it a strong tug and it fell from her. She tried to grab it, but it was too late.

Yvonne had on the skimpiest of bikinis. It was about three sizes too small for her voluptuous figure. She immediately turned and tried to take the towel from me, but I held on to it like a prize possession.

“We’re going to get in trouble,” Yvonne exclaimed, as we played tug of war with the towel.

“No one is here,” I replied. “I walked the executive suites and locked the doors.”

Yvonne let go of the towel.

“Are you sure?

“Yes,” I replied.

Yvonne re-adjusted her bikini. In doing so, she provided me a rare glimpse of her shaved pubes.

Almost without delay, small tent formed under my towel. I did my best to try and hide, by readjusting how I was sitting, but I knew, there would be no hiding it once it grew to its maximum potential.

Yvonne unfastened the top string to her bikini top that hung around her neck. The top portion of her bikini drooped down enough to expose a small portion of the top of her dark areolas.

“If it gets any hotter in here, I may have to strip,” Yvonne commented.

“Go for it,” I teased.

“You’d like that, huh?”

“Well, you haven’t left much to the imagination with that bikini.”

Yvonne looked down at her chest and smiled. She reached behind and pulled on the string that kept the top in place. She put her hand and arm across the front to hold it in place.

“If I show you, you have to promise to be a good boy,” she said.

“I’ll try, but I make no promises,” I replied.

Yvonne dropped her bikini top. Her nipples were high and hard, set against her dark areolas. She gave each one a pinch between a fore-finger and her thumb.

“They appear to be excited,” she remarked as she toyed with her nipples.

She stood and walked over to where I was seated. She looked down at my crotch.

“Looks like they are not the only thing showing a little excitement,” Yvonne remarked, noting the tent that had formed in my lap towel.

I parted the towel. There was no use trying to hide the obvious.

“You’re a boxers man,” Yvonne commented, taking note of my underwear type.

“I like boxers,” she added, bending forward, her boobs swinging right in front of me, as she placed her hands on to my upper thighs. She slid her hand under the hem of my shorts and reached for the growing prize. She never stopped looking me in the face as she closed in for the kill. Our lips met again, this time in a more slow and deliberate kiss, which only heightened my state of excitement.

Yvonne dropped to her knees and pulled my swollen cock from the confines of my boxer shorts. She applied a light kiss to the tip end of my manhood and cupped my balls in her hand. Then, she slowly licked the entire length of my shaft, before slipping it into her mouth. My head was spinning as she pushed her mouth all the way to the base of my cock. She looked up at me as I looked down at her. She proceeded to do this several times over, gently squeezing the base of my cock with each succeeding thrust into her oral cavity. I could feel things building up for a quick crescendo. I think, Yvonne could sense it, because she stood up and turned her back towards me. She bent over and slowly removed her bikini bottoms, giving me a great glimpse of her shaven pussy. My head was really spinning at this point.

I knew I couldn't stand up.

I placed my hands on either side of Yvonne’s firm hips and pulled her back on to my hard hot rod. She reached back between her legs and slowly guided me into place as she settled back on to my lap. I was in her and she was riding me like there would be no tomorrow. I couldn't hold back and filled her with my semen. She shook as I shot my load, experiencing the first of many orgasms. The base of her hands rested on my knees as she worked it, back and forth.

I guess I must have blacked out a second time, because I woke up naked, on the floor outside the dry sauna. Yvonne was sitting nearby, her legs outstretched and smile on her face. She had a towel wrapped tightly around her body.

I looked in her direction.

“Welcome back.”

“What happened?”

“You passed out.”

I kind of figured as much.

“Next time silly, don’t get in the sauna if you have been drinking.”

I called in stupid the next business day. Yvonne didn’t say anything. It was a Friday. That night, she texted me a naughty photo and an apology, saying she was drunk.

“Avoid the sauna,” I replied.