Date: Thu, 22 Mar 2007 15:37:47 -0700 (PDT)
From: Nifty Stories <nftystories@yahoo.com>
Subject: Taking Work Home

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.