Anne was the first person to give me a job and take me seriously as an ad writer when I was just a fresh faced college kid. The local office was filled with dusty old women, and let me tell you, Anne was among the dustiest. At about 5 foot 3, with glasses (spectacles seemed more appropriate), Anne was like most aging career PR people – cynical, quiet, pensive.

She sat in her own office, separated by the others by two doors, clippings on every wall, pecking on her computer day after day with her flaccid white hands, the glare of the PC reflected in her glasses.

Each day she wore casual blue jeans and sweaters which did their best to conceal her curvy breasts – although only God [and her deceased husband] knew how far they drooped down after that bungey-cord of a brazier was let loose.

She had flaxen brown hair and oozed seriousness, but there was something beguiling and interesting about her.

Me? I was the opposite. 20 years old, tall, in good shape. To the old bats in that office I was a golden boy.

I could feel them radiate every time I walked into the door. There was Susan, the curly blonde secretary with three kids who was always happy to tell me I had a message waiting for me, and Barbara, the middle aged Italian-American boss who was always a few offices [and a lot of money] away from everybody else. I felt like a rooster in a henhouse some days. I could imagine fucking each and every one of them up against the table in our lobby, my balls slapping against their hot cunts.

But Anne. Somehow managed to distinguish herself from among the rest. I felt so powerful to stand there next to Anne and have her give me my assignments for the next week or fish a paycheck out for me. It just made we want to unzip my pants and drop my warm cock into the palm of her soft hands.

It got even better when I invited her into my personal space to talk over a story or edit something.

She was a bit far away or aloof, especially since her husband died. But I could feel her get a bit softer as she got near.

There were many younger women in the office I fantasized about, but the boss, Anne, she was always the most interesting fantasy because she had 30 years on me. I wondered about how long it had been since she had had sex? And before that, how long it had been since she touched a man my age?

I casino oyna wondered about what her pussy looked like and what it would be like to kiss her. From a distance it seemed so gross to kiss her. Her breasts were huge, but they were the breasts of a middle aged woman with two children.

But still the idea felt so sexy. I fell in love with the idea of me as a prostitute “giving myself” to her as a treat. I loved going in her office and getting a little too close. She knew what I was doing. She was pretty smart. But she never seemed repulsed – just a little amused.

Finally one night – like in so many erotic stories – our office electricity came to pass.

I was working late and she came over and touched me softly on the shoulder to go over a story. Whenever she got close to me the air suddenly became more gentle. Her voice itself was little more than a whisper. You had to be real close to hear it.

“What does this sentence here mean?” she asked with her typically analytical tone of voice.

“Which one?” I asked. Every sinewy muscle in my lower body began to slowly stir on slow vibration. My body was begging for her to just come a little bit closer.

“Can you show me one more time?” I said.

Anne floated closer, her cottony Irish wool sweater rubbing up against my elbow, and her cheek drawing nearer to mine. Though I usually hated being told what to do, I really liked getting instructed by Anne.

“It’s this one right here,” she pointed out. “There must be a way to make it seem bigger, better.” She said. “Harder, longer” my mind continued. She was very close to me, over my shoulder. She must sense my nervousness, I thought to myself. Anne is smart.

I looked back into her steel gray eyes we both felt that impulse two people feel before they know they are going to have sex. It was very exciting, yet calming at the same time. There was something very numb about it all, with the office lights humming in the background.

Yet, instead of back away I kept my face planted. We felt drawn towards each other like being drawn into a dark narcotic. I began to drink her smell and the air deep. Then I closed my eyes.

The kiss was at first playful. Very soft and extra gentle. She licked her old lips to make them moist and wet, and I followed every trace of her head. Every weight of her gestures. She was canlı casino a pro teaching an amateur, and I wanted to be schooled. Patiently she open my mouth with her probing tongue and relaxed into my body. I put my hand on her side and drew her closer. I could feel our chemistries mixing, but then she pulled her head away sharply, and the air grew much colder.

“You know,” she paused. “I don’t think we should be doing this.” She said unemotionally. I didn’t know what the penalty for fucking my boss was, but I am sure that if Barbara found out it could be something. But the truth is I wanted her so bad and I wasn’t going to let this end in this stony awkward silence…Slowly I slipped down onto my knees, and looked up at her. I was going to treat this woman like she needed to be treated. I was going to give her a touch of myself.

I had decided that I wanted to taste her.

“It’s ok Anne,” I said, calmly. “Just sit down.”

Anne looked a bit awkward looking down at me, but some sort of motherly trust kicked in. Quietly, she sat down in her large comfy boss’ chair and looked a bit nervous, biting the nails on her left hand.

“Just relax,” I said. I began to rub her cheeks then slipped my index finger in her mouth. She seemed a bit uptight at first, but began to play with and suck the finger in long, strong slurps.

I slowly began unbuttoning my shirt and took it off. I loosened my belt, and pulled off my pants while she stared at my muscular young body. All the while I either caressed her, or worked my finger in her warm mouth.

She looked at me up and down, and looked dreamily at my semi-erect cock, but remained quiet, sucking my finger, and then guiding my body down between her legs.

Looking up at my boss from the floor I spread her thighs apart, rubbing her jeans on the inner part of her thighs, then nudging my face into her crevice. I could smell her juices through the denim and looked hopefully up.

“Anne,” I said gently. “I want you to take your pants off.”

“Why?” she asked nervously.

“Because I want to eat your pussy,” I answered.

She unbuttoned her top button and slid her dark pants down to her ankles, where we pulled them off one leg at a time.

“Are you sure?” she said.

“Sssh,” I whispered, and pulled her white undies aside to reveal the pouty lips of her vagina. kaçak casino I looked up at her like a nervous teenage girl about to give her first blow job, and then buried my face in its warmth and started licking.

Despite being only 5′ 3″, Anne’s box was big and used. The lips were separated and red and the clit throbbed like an unpolished gem. Her bush was salty light brown, and each lip of her labia pushed out, like flowers straining for sunlight.

I felt her muscles tighten and she ran her hands through my hair, pulling my face in deeper. She began to moan.

“Oh Christ Peter” she said clutching my head. I leaned deeper, prodding her privates with my tongue, the smells ravishing my senses.

My face became slick with her spunk, my tongue ached as I pushed and titilated her nether regions. She began to talk abrasively and begged me to fuck her and to fill her up.

“Just fuck me” she begged. “Just fuck me with that hard cock,” she said. I wanted to be the professional prostitute I had set out to be – her private gigolo – but it became so hard to not fuck her, I finally felt her hands clutching my chin drawing her upwards to her kiss.

I kept at it until she really could tolerate it no longer. In a matter of second I pulled myself up and inserted myself into her warm womb. It found its home rather quickly, and jimmied up inside until it went as far as it could reach.

My long limber cock had never been in such an older woman and it felt strange to see her stretched out there in the chair with her mouth open as I pumped away at her. Her glasses fell down her face, she fell into a mess of sweat and pheromones until her body finally gave way and I felt her muscles relax. “Please” she muttered in her last minutes as my greased cock rocked away inside of her. “Please.”

She had come.

Just then the phone rang, like a crying babe, and everything zapped back to reality. It through both of us out of our rhythm, and I clutched for my pants as she sat up and rearranged herself. The phone kept ringing as I tried desperately to find a zipper, and she buttoned her trousers. My cock felt neglected and salty, almost irritable from being interrupted. Anne grasped the phone and pulled it to her ear.

“Ahem” she said “This is Anne Walton speaking.”

“Oh Hi Barbara,” I heard her say. “Yes I can meet you here in the office in 20 minutes. No No. Yes. No problem at all. See you then. Bye.” Click.

“Well lover boy,” Anne said raising a stern eyebrow at me. “Looks like I’ll have to repay you later.”

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