Crazy Week Of Truth Or Dare

I felt my face flush instantly with an intense heat so I know it must have turned equally red and I sort of giggled in a silly way out of nervousness. I quickly spun around to face my computer and started pretending to read email hoping he didn’t notice my reaction.

Jason was always one to make off-topic comments and didn’t seem to have many inhibitions, but this was the first time he’d said anything overtly suggestive to me, and with me (and my body) being the focus of his remark. I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone else was close enough to hear it. It was just us, and he was being discreet, but I couldn’t help but feel like the words had come across the PA system.

Maybe he was just joking or maybe he was playing games with me, but he was looking at me so intensely and so seriously when he said it, and his words were so direct and, not really graphic but certainly illustrative such that I couldn’t help but vividly visualize what he described. To be subtle about it, he had desires for me sexually.

The only reason I was still thinking about it later in the day is because his words were so unmistakably sexual, but he didn’t say he wanted to do something to me, or wanted me to do something to him, what his words said was that he desired me…sexually. I am a happily married woman and I love what life has given me, but even I will have to admit it has been a long time since I had truly felt desired in such a purely sexual way. I know I shouldn’t be having these thoughts, but it was just something I couldn’t easily get out of my mind.

Jason is so well behaved and so professional at work, but I swear at that moment I felt like Little Red Riding Hood about to be devoured by a wolf. He just had this presence over me all of a sudden and no matter how soft his voice or gentle his gestures were, I still imagined at any moment he would scoop me up and carry me away to be taken at his will. And worse still, it wasn’t the image that scared me at all it was realizing that I let myself think these things that really scared me.

I always looked forward to Jason’s visits to my desk during the day, but now we were in a different place altogether or so it seemed to me. Jason could be a flirt and he surely knew how to compliment a woman but when he dropped little innuendos or double entendre I never took him seriously. He was a handsome and well-built man at least ten years younger than me. Though I think I’m a nice looking woman in my professional clothes, I see myself in the mirror each morning and honestly I’m not a girl anymore. I am a woman with few extra curves than she started out with, and not everything rides as high as it used to. I work with several younger woman and some of them are quite striking. If Jason wanted to seduce a hot babe, he wouldn’t need to waste time on me. But he didn’t spend nearly as much time talking to any of those girls as he did loitering around my desk.

Several hours later in the day I was still sitting at my desk semi-catatonic, randomly clicking my mouse around in space to make it look like I was working while I was in reality just obsessing over this distraction of having a man, and not my husband, tell me that he fantasizes about being with me. When Jason came around again at the end of the day my defensive instinct was to deny that I took anything he said seriously or even considered it, but this strategy was not an effective one in the end.

Jason insisted that if I just allowed myself, I would find myself desiring him too. I insisted quite the opposite. He said he could make me feel the attraction between us if I followed his directions. I said I couldn’t no matter what. He’s a cunning manipulator and I ended up eating my own words by inadvertently walking right into a challenge between us, a game of truth or dare. I felt like a teenager. He is always so intentionally vague in his references that I wasn’t sure what he exactly meant by me “having to do whatever he said” so before we left work that day I felt I should clarify: no matter how naughty he was, I was still a good girl and under no circumstances could he see me naked or touch me. I felt safer telling him that. Even though my thoughts as the words crossed my lips were, what would it feel like for him to see me naked or even touch me.

The next morning he approached my desk briskly and set down a digital camera, grinning mischievously. “Let’s get started” he quipped.
“Doing what?” I cautiously inquire.
“Your first dare. And here’s how it goes…” he explains.
And so he started in with step by step directions. Across the hall was a little HR conference room that barely held four chairs. It had no windows. He told me to go inside and lock the door if it made me feel comfortable. Then I was to remove all my clothes, including every single undergarment and accessory and arrange them out on the table. I was to use the camera to take a picture of my clothes and undies on the table, then I could redress and return showing him the picture.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I exclaimed “I just told you yesterday there was no nudity.”
“Nope, you said I couldn’t see you naked, and I’m not. You just have to get naked, and prove it” he clarified.
“Why then am I doing it? Why do you care if you can’t actually see me when I’m naked?” I wondered.
“Because” he said, “just because”
He was clever enough to know that as extreme as this sort of play was for me, at work no less, I had no real cause to object and still save face with his smug self. The conference room would be locked and no one would see. I’ll show him the pic, but I won’ t let him keep it I thought, not that I really worried he had any plans to expose or humiliate me.

So I did as he instructed. The conference room suddenly felt cold once my dress was off, but even before I had removed my panties I could feel the heat radiating off my body and realized my pulse was not only quicker but so much stronger. This was a little scary and almost surreal to be nude and at work at the same time. It made me wonder what he was doing and what he was thinking while I was gone. But I knew he was right outside in the hall, and there was no doubt what he was thinking. He was thinking about me standing here with no clothes on, thinking about him, knowing that I was naked. My mind went around in circles but the trick he was playing on me started to make sense. He didn’t want to actually get me nude for his pleasure, he wanted me to be nude and think about him, or something like that, I thought trying to figure him out. For a few minutes my nipples were hard to hide under a light bra as I redressed, but I just blamed that on the chill of the air.

Right outside the door Jason was leaning against the wall and smiling at me when I exited the room. I showed him the picture. He studied it for a few seconds, looked me in the eye for just a moment, but an focused one, glanced at the pic one more time and just said, “Very well done, my dear” Then he walked away and left me alone for the day. It wasn’t that I regretted doing it, but that episode was so far out of the norm for me, I went back to my desk in disbelief that it really happened.

The next morning he showed up rather early at my desk, almost too happy to see me. “Ready to get started?” he asked.

“Not so fast” I stopped him, “Your dares are a little too risky for me, let’s just stay safe and play Truth today instead”

He paused and looked briefly disappointed in me, but quickly recovered and just said, “Fine!” before turning around and promptly leaving.

It was almost an hour before I saw him again and he was arriving with laptop and folders in hand for a planned meeting we had, but we walked past my desk to Julie’s the single woman who sits diagonally behind me. He struck up this vibrant conversation with her, which he pretty much never does, and launched into some made up story about a trip he was taking, going to a beach and wanted her advice about which swim trunks looked more fashionable. Then in a way that was just far too obviously contrived and pulled two photographs out of his folder and held them up high so Julie could see them but I could only see the backs and asked her again which pic of him (in nothing but shorts of course) was most flattering. No offense but only Julie was dense enough to go along with this and not realize the whole conversation was a farce.

When that little scene was over he finally acknowledged me and sat down to finalize a conference agenda we were supposed to be working on. Our whole conversation was strictly business for over 45 minutes. But when he left, he picked up all his stuff and walked off abruptly…only he left behind those two pictures, face down on my desk. He isn’t that clumsy or careless. He did it on purpose. I just left them lying there.

I was not an adolescent like Julie who was gullible to jump into any little game, and I was sure this must be a game for him. He didn’t ever fish for compliments so I didn’t suspect he wanted me to admire his pictures, but he probably wanted me to get excited about seeing them and I wasn’t going to. All day they sat there upside down.

Of course I had never seen him when he wasn’t wearing a pressed, button down shirt and sort of did wonder what his chest and arms would look like at the beach. And was his stomach soft like so many of the older men we work with, or were his abs cut like an athlete? Did he have lots of hair on his chest or almost none? I wasn’t wrong to at least wonder about this.

So I’m not as disciplined a person as I let on at times and around two o’clock Julie and my other neighbor were gone at meetings, the rest of the office was quiet, so I just reached over and quickly flipped both pictures over, took an extremely short glance and slammed them both back down on the desk where they had been. They were just pics of him standing in swim trunks, no big deal. I was being silly to bother looking in the first place.

A few minutes later the office was still empty, I thought it was safe to take one more peek. I was sure this time I could find something about him to make fun of him with later, so I studied them a little more carefully. Not a huge chest or arms, but a tight stomach. That was okay. I also noticed that he wasn’t at the beach or the pool or anything swimming related, he was standing in a closet. And in one pic, he had his hand pointed in this gesture like a pistol but with two fingers. It was a goofy little thing Jason and I had started doing to each other in the hallway when we were forced to go into meetings we'd rather be shot than attend, like an inside joke. Meaning, these were not just random pics of him, these were pics that he had taken specifically for me to look at. Julie really was his ruse and I played right into it by trying to sneak a peek at something that was meant for me all along. I didn’t understand why he was playing like this but it did make me want to play along just so that I could prove I was better at it than him.

It was almost time to go home when he finally came back by.

“Truth” he sharply stated. “Ok” I slowly responded, “what’s the question?”

“Did you look at my pictures?” he asked.

“There they are right where you left them, nobody bothered them” I assured.

“Did you look at them?” he insisted.

“They have just been sitting here, you left them here, I didn’t steal them from you” I continued.

“Did you look at them?” he persisted.

“No I did not” I lied, “I have no interest in business that isn’t mine.”

“So tell me the truth” he inquired, ”why did you look at them then?”

“You don’t listen, I said I didn’t look at them” I struggled to sound convincing.

“And you lie because you put them back down on the desk in the wrong order after you looked at them” he revealed matter of fact, “But the truth I want is, why did you want to see if you didn’t care?”

I just stammered and looked around for something to change the subject with.

“You flunked Truth” he admonished, “tomorrow you go back to Dare and don’t try to weasel out of it.”

Tomorrow came and what could I do but sit there and wait anxiously for my crazy friend to make me do something embarrassing, humiliating or who knows what. When he popped into the office he was carrying a plastic spoon from the cafeteria. Great, I thought, he’s going to make me eat something gross probably. Nope, he motions me back to the mini conference room from two days ago.

I walked in with reluctant obedience and he closed the door behind both of us. “Listen carefully” he instructed. “I’m going to turn off the light in a second and you’ll have to trust that I won’t turn it back on. When the light goes off, I’ll start asking you for articles of your clothing and you’ll have to remove each one and hand it to me.”

“Nope” I corrected, “that isn’t going to happen.”

“Yes, you have to, its my dare, not yours” he insisted.

“But I don’t trust you not to turn on the light” I pleaded.

“I’m not the dishonest one” he replied. “But I will reciprocate with, item for item, if that makes you feel safer.”

“Not necessary, I have no desire to hold your dirty laundry” I tried to sound sarcastic, “Let’s just do two or three things real quick so I can get back to work.”

Lights went out.

“Shoe” he said.

I handed him a shoe.

“Other shoe” he said.

This was easy, and stupid, but I complied.

Then sock, other sock and he asked for my pants. “I don’t know about this” I whined.

“It was okay yesterday when no one saw, why isn’t it okay today when no one can see?” he argued.

“Because I was alone yesterday and you are here today” I snapped back.

“Are you saying that my presence matters?” he asked.

“No it doesn’t, never mind. But if I give you my pants you have to give me yours.” I demanded.

“Why would you want me to do it too?” he questioned.

“Shut up and just do it my way” I impatiently scolded. I was grasping to stay in control here.

We traded pants. At his direction, we traded my blouse for his shirt. He somehow knew I was wearing a camisole underneath, which surprised me that he noticed such details, but I had to surrender that too. Then I put up a decent amount of resistance before handing over my bra and negotiated his boxers in return. Of course he wasn’t going to stop until he had my panties and what the hell we were both going to be fired anyway if someone unlocks that door.

Now the instructions stopped and we both just stood there completely naked. I could hear him breathing and wondered if I was actually hearing him thinking, in the total darkness and near silence my imaginary senses were sharpening. I was so aware of my own skin and the feeling of being totally exposed even though I was shrouded in absolute darkness. And he was there, right there with me, completely naked also as far as I knew, but the details about it I could only imagine.

I felt something touch my shoulder and squealed. “Sssshhhh!” he whispered loudly. It was that damn spoon he put on me. “What the hell are you doing, I told you before no touching.”

“You said I couldn’t touch you, and I’m not” he corrected. “Its just the spoon.”

I stood frozen almost in fear, but tingling all over in a state of something like shock, something like excitement but paralyzed by this feeling of being so out of control and clearly way out of my comfort zone. The spoon went down my shoulder and straight down my left breast. At the bottom, where it met my chest he must have figured out what he just crossed and drove the spoon around in a few circles closing in near my areola before sliding sideways to compare that same path on my right breast. My nipples were painfully hard after this but not because I was aroused or anything, just from the strange sensation of being touched like that.

The spoon went down my side to my hips then to my thighs then back up the other side. The spoon found my elbow and stayed there as I heard him rustle and move about a little. He was carefully walking around behind me. The spoon returned to my shoulder, went down the center of my spine and then staked out the extents of my butt. He stepped noticeably closer, but didn’t touch me still. The spoon was at my shoulder again, and he came close enough I could feel the heat of his body right beside me but still no touch. I realized he wasn’t using the spoon to touch me, he was using it to find me so he could get as close as possible and not violate the rule I had made for him.

The spoon went to the nape of my neck and then lifted. My hair went up, exposing my neck and then I really felt his presence as he softly exhaled across the top of my shoulders. As excited as I was, this sensation actually calmed me and I found my own breathing start to match the pace of his. God this was so weird what we were doing but my body had never quite felt like this before and I certainly had never been so aware of my own body and another person’s body like this without us actually touching. What a bizarre sensation. I have to say, I loved his patience. It is as if he knew were in a moment and just savored it for what seemed like a dreamy several minutes.

His breathing being the only way I could verify his presence, I first realized he was up to something new when I heard him inhaling deeply and he was tickling my hair. No, he was smelling my hair. Or my shampoo hopefully. I never know what young men really think about mature women, do we seem old and icky to them? Did I smell like his grandma?

Jason can be so intense when he’s fired up over something at work and it amused me to see that same focused attention on something so simple as trying to extract the fragrance of shampoo from my hair. His nose led him down below my ears where a stronger scent of my perfume could be found. Still using that spoon on my shoulder he inched is way back around to the front of me and like a hound searched for the same perfume all around my breasts. His breath on my nipples electrified my spine. Charging up and down my back and from head to toe I was consumed with tingles. When was the last time I felt like this, or had I ever?

I could feel him kneel and seek out the perfume I had dabbed on each wrist, his head now at my waist and I liked feeling like I was over him if only for this moment. But all control was lost once again when the tip of his nose accidentally brushed the curls of my pubic hair. Oh god, I must have been dumb to think it wouldn’t get to this at some point, but knowing his face was less than an inch away from my vagina was making my legs start to shake and actually scared me. He didn’t scare me, I really did trust him implicitly. But I didn’t trust myself. I wasn’t used to this kind of pressure, these sensations, this feeling of risk and anticipation. My legs quivered like they do in winter when I’m outside with a skirt, it was shaking my whole body.

He started to whisper to me and tell me how even a blind man could see my beauty and some other Hallmark stuff that I didn’t really pay attention to but just hearing his calm voice helped soothe me a little. He kept talking in a super soft voice and eased a chair beside me to grasp for support. Then a sudden rush of warmth chased my chill away as I began to realize that he wouldn’t break my touch rule, but would do what he could to embrace me and reassure me. At least that’s what I thought.

But I could still feel his breath between my thighs and was still tingling knowing his face was there where no other man had put his face in several years. I wasn’t even sure anyone would want to ever again. Remembering what that kind of attention feels like brings out a certain response in a woman, no matter how scared she is. It was the slight chill I felt between each of his warm breaths that made me realize I must be getting a little wet. I didn’t want to, and I wasn’t trying to be licentious, it wasn’t that at all but the harder I tried to fight this notion of Jason and I having a sexual attraction the more obsessed I became with it.

He knew what was happening to me, inside of me, he could not get any closer and still keep his promise to me. There was no modestly left in me, I knew for sure he was smelling my sex directly from inside of me more intently than I could even know it myself. He could not get enough of it and I could no longer fear he would be turned off by knowing the truth of what I hid between my legs, as he practically writhed beneath me trying to get in there. I believed he wanted to taste me but denied the ability to make physical contact he was determined to breathe the essence of womanhood right out of me and heaven help me just his being there and pouring so much attention on me and working himself into such a fever at the threshold to entering me… I swear I had that feeling of being made love to like no man had given me before. I was breathing too hard myself and nearly passed out.

He felt me lean further into the chair back and that must have snapped him out of his own lustful trance. He did touch me, but only my elbows and only to guide me down into the chair before I fell onto the floor. Next I felt him gently place my panties onto my lap.

“Are we done?” I asked.

“We should get back before anyone notices” he whispered, “but no we are not done.”

He handed me each of the rest of my wardrobe and waited for me to whisper that I was done before reaching for the door. He never did turn the light on. He ducked his head out to verify the hallway was empty before leaving me alone inside. I stepped out into the bright light totally blinded and scurried quickly to the ladies room for a short sit to let my eyes adjust and my head to get back into reality.

I didn’t seem him again that day.

The next morning he passed by my desk and winked. I didn’t hear from him until an appointment minder appeared on my screen. He had reserved our little conference room for two in the afternoon, for half an hour. When was this going to start affecting my work? As if it wasn’t already.

At two o’clock I made sure no one was around my desk and sat there nervously anticipating, hoping he had run out of ways to challenge my resistance but wondering what it would be like if he didn’t. At five after two I was starting to fidget. At eight minutes after I realized that he would not be late to an opportunity to further torture me so something must be up. I started walking to his desk. As I started down the hall I saw the conference room door open and realized all of a sudden, of course, we had a meeting there. My pulse quickened and my vision was already starting to blur a bit like it does when you realize the roller coaster is cresting yet another steep drop. I entered the door and he quickly closed it behind me.

He positioned me at the edge of the table facing him, then reached around and turned off the light.

“Do we have to do this all over again today?” I asked trying to sound bored with him.

“Just lift your dress over your head” he instructed.

“I’d really rather not mess up my hair and get my necklace tangled just for your game, how about if we sit in the dark and talk about next month’s area manager meeting?” I suggested, testing his determination.

“I can help you with the dress if its complicated” he offered.

I continued to pause just like you do at the end of the high diving board when you know you have to jump but are not really ready to do it just yet. His gentle tug at my waist belt broke the comfort of my delay and yes, quite against my supposedly better judgment I let myself out of the dress.

Not surprisingly, he continued with demands to remove everything else as well. In a way it was easier to get naked the now third time, second with him, but the effect of doing so brought out an increasingly more intense response each time as I learned there was so much to be anxious about with him. What was next this time?

When I was fully nude he told me to sit on the table and I could hear him removing his own clothes even though I never asked him to. He rolled two chairs to the side of the table and told me to put my feet them. This was like playing doctor and I wasn’t sure it was even sexy any more at all, but the light was off, staying off and in twenty minutes somebody else would be gathering here for a meeting, I hoped.

Jason stepped closer to me and was fumbling with something. He told me to hold out my hand face up. I did, waiting for a frog, a bunch of spiders or something worse, potentially attached to him, to be dropped into it. Instead, a cold liquid dripped onto my palm.

“Huh?” I quizzed him aloud.

“Don’t be shocked, its just lubricant” he explained.

“And so?” I asked.

“Touch yourself” he directed.

“Do what? Where? What do you mean?” I stammered out.

“Use your fingers, touch yourself. Pleasure yourself for me” he flatly stated.

“I don’t.”
“I mean I don’t do that”
“I don’t know exactly what you are talking about because I don’t know anything about it” I confessed.

“Don’t play coy with me, focus on what arouses you and go there for me” he persuaded.

“No I’m not lying to you, I can’t do this. It isn’t because I don’t want to do it for you but seriously I don’t know how. I don’t get aroused by things. I can’t just make it happen like that. Arousal is something that has always happened to me, not something I do. I’m sorry. I’m not making this up.” I tried to tell him.
“I’m sorry I ruined your dare, I’m not as risqué or sexy a woman as you probably thought I was. I’m sorry this isn’t going to work, I really was having a little bit of fun before but I can’t do this for you” I gushed.

“You are much more honest and forthcoming with me in the dark, aren’t you” he responded.

“What?” I asked, taken off guard.

“You just shared more about yourself with me in ten seconds than in two years of knowing you” he said.

“No I didn’t, I just told you that you got the wrong woman. I’m not sexy, I’m not into this kind of stuff” I pleaded
“You are sexy. You are very sexy and you didn’t tell me that, I figured it out for myself. You just told me that you don’t know you are sexy. That’s too bad, for now, but its easily corrected. You arouse me and make me desire you. I’m not afraid to show you. You don’t have to perform anything for me. Just relax. Don’t touch yourself or feel like you have to do anything, but I am going to pleasure myself and I’m going to do it because I’m turned on being here with you” he ended in a whisper.

I could hear the odd noise his hand made as I imagined it stroking his manhood to erection as he stood in darkness in front of me, directly between my now widely spread legs in fact. This was so crazy, so crazy. I couldn’t see his face but somehow imagined him looking up and away as I heard him moan softly to himself and I assumed he was lost in some vision and forgetting about me. That notion lifted a lot of pressure I had started to feel on myself and I relaxed a little.

I knew he wouldn’t know and no one else would either, so I actually did try to touch myself. I wasn’t sure where exactly so I just smeared the liquid into my pubic hair and started rubbing it around. That wasn’t such a bad feeling, almost like lathering in a bath, and so I just kept exploring myself while listening to his hand, slick as mine, start and stop its motion in front of me. My fingers roamed around a bit more than mere bath time cleaning and I’ll admit it wasn’t all bad but I still had the clumsy waywardness of a school girl finding her own charms. Truth was, I had done this before, a long time ago but I literally forgot it. My finger crossed over the top of my now swelling lips and grazed a nerve between them that sent a shock through my body. How did I forget about this? Why had it been so long since my last memory of doing this? I was quickly relearning what areas felt especially good to be touched when Jason’s louder moaning and quicker breathing diverted my attention.

It was hard to stay sitting up and still keep a hand between my legs so I gave up and leaned back on both arms and decided to just focus on what he was doing instead. From time to time his thigh would ever so gently bump my thigh but I didn’t protest as I realized it must be impossible for him to keep balance in total darkness doing what he was doing. Once I even drew my thighs together against his to keep him centered, but I made sure to do it like it was an accident myself.

He took a step closer and even though he was standing taller than me, I could feel him graze my skin with his in different areas. I could feel my hair being brushed against and wondered if he was testing me but then I realized my hair was being tickled by his hair. We weren’t really, really touching each other I rationalized to myself. But I was well aware, his scrotum was directly above my vagina and if he just flexed a little, they would actually touch. Oh what the hell, I knew what these words meant when I heard them, this man’s balls were teasing my *****. Can you believe this, we were touching our genitals together but not really touching. This was so weird. Again. I was getting used to things being weird. What was happening to me.

I knew something was going to happen just by how much I could sense his body starting to tense up and heat up, but I still held my breath not knowing what to expect next and feeling even more nervous anticipation in the dark.

I heard him make a noise I’ve never known him to be capable of, the deep and throaty groan of a beast at the same instant that I felt a hot splash land on my tummy, and another one at the base of my breasts. I know what this was but it still made me think, “What the hell?” the instant it happened. It was thick and hot and I could feel it start to slide down my front. He surprised me again when I thought he was going to fall forward onto me, but he just put an arm down on the table and caught himself. But whatever *** might have dribbled onto his own hand then dripped down and landed on me. I jumped a little, but he didn’t notice. The drops of *** fell right on my pubic hair and I could feel it oozing between the lips of my vagina. My *****. It was my ***** today.

He pushed himself away from the table and wavered until he found the wall to lean on. I drew a hand up to touch the *** on my stomach and started to rub at it without thinking.

“Do you want me to get you something? A towel?” he asked, breathlessly.

I winced, thinking he could see my hand in his ***, but then reassured myself this was impossible. He didn’t know. “No don’t” I whispered “barely any got on me.” I lied again. I shamelessly spread it further and further around my stomach and chest until I couldn’t feel any more drops. If someone told me this story I would be so disgusted I thought, but it wasn’t gross to me being there. I didn’t mind it being on me and I massaged the last of it onto my breasts. It made me feel like an actress in an illicit movie knowing how much the men in the audience would be turned on, but for me I was safely anonymous in the dark.

Jason started to put his clothes on but then stopped. He was truly out of breath. I put my clothes on but was pretending to take longer than it really did. I don’t know why, but I felt something about Jason as he sat there in the dark. One moment he was so intense and so determined, frenzied in fact, but then the next moment he was totally at peace. I loved that about him right now. Actually, I knew that he was in a frenzy over me, and he was at peace not because of me, but with me. He did this with me, that’s what I loved about it. He thought about this and planned and coaxed me into it just to share it with me. I wanted to touch him so badly. I couldn’t and didn’t and wouldn’t know how to do it like I should. But I did want to touch him then.

He kissed my hand before he left the room. Not like an ancient kiss the queen gesture, he kissed the palm of my hand. I had a tough time in the bright light as I left, but I didn’t go to the bathroom. I didn’t want to clean up. I spent the rest of the day working with his *** all over my body under the dress. He didn’t come around for any conversation the rest of the day, but before I left he did stop and say good-bye, that was all.

It seemed like an awful long weekend after that. We never, ever talked or communicated even via email outside of work hours so I couldn’t possibly expect to hear from him. But I caught myself thinking about him often and couldn’t help but check my phone every once in a while. I knew he wouldn’t bother me at home, but he sure found a way to interrupt my weekend anyway.

Monday finally came and honestly I thought we were going back to being normal friends again until Jason literally collided with my desk in a rare sense of urgency first thing in the morning. He literally lifted me out of my chair by the elbow and guided me to the hall. On our way to the conference room, of course. Our little den of iniquity or however that saying goes.

He almost pushed me inside. This was not my work Jason, he was not a physical person. I mean not like this. He didn’t speak. The light went off, of course.

He spun me around facing the wall and tried to lift my dress until its belt hung up on my bust-line. Holy cow, was this the same person I was dealing with last week, what changed? I was struggling to struggle, I wasn’t used to defending myself like this against him. We were intellectual combatants but I wasn’t prepared to fend him off with my hands. I still trusted him from our earlier games so I helped out by removing the belt and letting him finish removing the dress.

When he snapped my panties down to my ankles I shouldn’t have been surprised but I was. My clothes normally didn’t come off so fast nor so easily. I mean that both literally and metaphorically. I was quickly becoming a woman I didn’t know existed.

Anyway, I was being manhandled this morning as he fully violated our rule by placing his hand on my back and gently albeit firmly pressing me face first into the wall. With his other hand he was busy undressing himself. He kept me against the wall. He wasn’t hurting me, but he was clearly keeping me still in the pitch dark room. His touch wasn’t as rough as I made it sound at first, but I could tell he was not going to let me get away from him.

Then I heard that familiar sound of his hand, wet with lube, stroking himself. My mind could not help but pleasantly revisit our last encounter but then quickly jumped to a new crisis when I felt his hand, very, very wet with the liquid, slap against the bottom of my butt between my thighs and slide up depositing all its slipperiness along the way. You would expect me to immediately get this wildly out of control situation under hand and I assure you I tried but when someone touches you there, it sort of takes the breath out of you. I wasn’t sure what exactly to do next and before I had a chance to respond I felt his hips press against my butt and his hard penis pierced between the soft flesh of my thighs.
I was panting, scared and starting to sweat. I was lost and out of control of this situation. He had me in such a position that he could literally have his way with me but I wasn’t afraid of being hurt, I just didn’t know what to expect of him next. This was all new to me.

He raised up and pressed even harder against me, into the wall, and his penis, his ****, his raw ****, raised up hard against the bottom of my pelvic wall. I could feel how stiff it was and how hot it was against my soft skin. He pulled back a little and the head of it poked at me. He was buried deep between the cheeks of my butt, the shaft was throbbing against my anus and the head was now intimidating the lips of my for now still closed *****. I choked when I tried to speak but I stammered until I could say, “No.”

“No Jason, I can’t. I can’t do this. Please don’t do this to me, I just can’t” I pleaded.

Finally he spoke and his voice tried to calm me. “Don’t worry. Trust me. I try not to hurt you but I can’t resist you, just trust me, just let this happen” he gasped out before lowering his head into my back and pressing his hips into mine.

I felt the head of his **** effortlessly part the lips of my ***** and slide all wet and easy between them and I felt all this crazy sexual sensation down there but I couldn’t feel him fill me like I thought he would. I gasped and held my breath. He withdrew and put a hand on my hips to steady him, then he drove forward again so that his bulging head plowed into my lips and forward, but again I missed the shock of being penetrated that I was so fearfully anticipating. He rubbed his chest against my back and murmured in an almost satisfied way and took another longer, slower stroke.

I let go of the breath I was holding when I finally realized that he purposely wasn’t entering me and I felt like I could relax at least a tiny bit that he wasn’t going to. He relaxed too, a tiny bit. But his stokes took full advantage of the wetness between my legs. The head of his **** would come back and thump slightly against my anus. Then he would ease forward and glide into the space between my legs that he was making more pleasurable by squeezing my thighs together. And he would end up rubbing along the opening of my vagina before ending beside my clitoris where he would let it throb for a split second before starting all over again. The more consumed he became with this pleasure my thighs were giving him the more at ease I became. I found enough composure to actually enjoy the sensations but I’m sure my body was still very tense.

“I’m sorry” he gasped, “I’m so sorry”
“I should not treat you this way, I don’t deserve to take pleasure away from you like this”
“I’m sorry I know I’m wrong and someday please forgive me”
“But I can’t help myself, I have a lust for you that I can’t control, I should be stronger but I’m not with you, I’m making a fool of myself I know, I just have to do this, I was consumed by you this weekend” he gushed out.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, please don’t feel guilty, I did this to you, you didn’t break your rules” he muttered.

Somehow just a few words gave me so much more control and I didn’t feel scared of much of anything anymore. My first thought was, oh my poor boy. He wasn’t my boy, he was probably the worst influence on me at the present time, but I still just felt for him and wanted him to trust his feelings for me. I wanted to let him have me right then. Meaning, I wanted him to actually penetrate me. I didn’t care about the rules so much anymore and I just wanted us to have that experience together. I’ll admit it, I wanted his **** to bury itself inside my *****.

But I was too unsure of myself to know what to do next, and it turns out that even as a primal beast, my Jason still had some respect for the rules I laid out to him so long ago. He never did penetrate me. But I give him my thighs and the rest of my body to use as he wished. He took a mouthful of my shoulder at the base of my neck, his hands gripped my hips commandingly and his powerful legs scooped mine tight together. He let out a wail and a cry and then pulled back and I felt his *** shoot directly across the entrance to my *****. His gentle bite released my neck, his hands slipped down my hips and his body fell limp across the chair behind him. He went lifeless.

I just stood there arms up against the wall like a suspect at a crime. My body was hot and my *** was craving a little more of the attention it had been getting. Most of his *** had landed in my ***** hair and was now dripping down the insides of my thighs. I was a mess. This was crazy. I had let things go too far. I had gone too far. But god I loved that feeling of knowing he was spent on the chair behind me. It was me, it was really me and my body that did this to him. He really did want me. He really did *** from sex with me. I know we didn’t actually have sex because of me and my rules, but that’s what allowed this to happen. We were different now. I was different now. My rules were going to change. I was a woman who wanted to be wanted by a man. I really liked that feeling. I felt alive.

We had very few words as we dressed. We were too close to being found out. I told him he was right, we aren't done, we were at just the beginning. Before he left he kissed me. I know how Sleeping Beauty felt now. His kiss awakened me.
zumahl zumahl
36-40, M
1 Response Nov 30, 2012

This was just amazing!! A long, but fantastic read!! You really understand the thoughts of a woman. This is refreshing.