Bobbi and James were new office neighbors in our multi-tenant office. James was an affable older fellow, in his fifties and Bobbi, while equally affable, was much younger and unsettlingly cute. James was an appliance installer and Bobbi was his office help, scheduling appointments for her husband.
I helped them to get settled into their new offices when they brought in their office furnishings and we seemed to hit things off very well, right off the bat. Even though they weren’t from the little town where we all officed, we were suburbanites, in every sense of the term. Bobbi and James were from the country and not quite as refined as some of the city people, but their down-to-earth good-natured dispositions had to be admired.
Bobbi and James would saunter into the offices each morning and spend about an hour behind their closed office door. James would then head out about ten or eleven in the morning and sometimes he wouldn’t return until well after six or seven in the early evening. These types of long days were tough.
Bobbi seemed to have a good relationship with James, for the most part. They weren’t the hand-holding, “give-me-a-kiss” type of couple. I surmised their relationship was more business-like than deeply personal, or at least that was the vibe they gave off whenever they were in the office.
For the most part, they kept to themselves, except whenever we would pass in the hallway. Then one day, Bobbi and I literally bumped into each other, rounding the hallway corner in the office. I quickly grabbed her to keep her from tumbling backwards and falling after we collided. I quickly apologized.
“It’s my fault,” Bobbi exclaimed, as she hand-brushed her hair out of her face and tried to regain her composure. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
In the process of grabbing hold of Bobbi, several of the button-down buttons on her shirt had opened, giving me a good clear view of her white lace bra and cleavage. Bobbi made quick work to re-fasten the buttons on her shirt, as she started to walk around me. As she walked past me, I caught a wisp of her perfume and that was all it took to get my full attention.
“Leaving?” I asked.
“No,” she replied, “I have to use the ladies’ room.”
“I think it’s ‘out of order’,” I told her, since there was a sign on the door stating the restroom was closed for maintenance.
“Great,” Bobbi replied.
“Use the men’s room,” I countered. “I’ll stand guard.”
She looked down the hall and seeing the sign on the ladies’ room door, she muttered a soft-spoken, “Fuck.”
“I’ll stand guard,” I repeated.
I could see the wheels turning in her head, trying to decide whether or not she wanted to wait or risk my guarding offer.
“Would you?” she pressed.
“Sure,” I replied.
Bobbi disappeared into the men’s room, and I stationed myself outside the door to prevent any unauthorized entrants.
Full disclosure: We were the only tenants in the building, so there really wasn’t anyone to guard against, except me.
Bobbi stepped out of the men’s room after a few minutes.
“Thanks,” she proffered.
“You know,” I said, “there’s no one here but you and me.”
Bobbi stopped and looked in my direction.
“You are a sly one,” she proffered.
I laughed.
“Yeah,” I replied, “It was a tough fight to keep myself out of there and respect your privacy.”
“I bet it was,” Bobbi shot back, proffering a wink.
Wow! Was this a come-on tease? I wasn’t sure, but it sure appeared that way.
Bobbie was height-to-weight proportional and stood about 5’3″ or so, and probably weighed about 115 or 120 pounds. She looked good in her tight jeans and the light scent of her perfume had an undeniable effect on me.
Several weeks went by. Bobbi and I began to become good hallway chat friends. She was easy to talk with, but our conversations were nothing more than casual topics, such as the weather. Bobbie always dressed casually in nice jeans and boots, although she did sport a dressier look and stiletto heels whenever she and James would have visitors to the office.
Then one day, after James had left the office, things changed. I noticed Bobbi seemed a little flustered about something. She was not her usual cheerful self.
“Is everything okay?” I asked as we passed in the hallway.
“Yeah,” she replied, as she headed past me and disappeared into her office. As I walked by, I could hear her talking on the phone.
“I don’t care what James says,” Bobbi declared, “I’ll find a way to pay for it.”
I could tell the conversation was a tense one. I waited a few minutes and poked my head into the office.
“Is everything okay?” I asked. I was being intentionally nosey, but I figured if Bobbi didn’t want everyone to know her business, she would have and could have shut the office door.
Bobbi pushed her fingers through her thick locks of long brown hair and looked up at me. She leaned back in her high-back office chair. The top three buttons of her button-down shirt were unceremoniously unfastened, giving me an unintentional view, I am sure, of some her cleavage.
“Just feeling a financial pinch,” Bobbi said. “It’ll work out.”
She paused for a second and then appended her answer to say, “If it doesn’t, I’ll start selling my body.”
I laughed.
“I get first dibs,” I jokingly replied.
I quickly disappeared from her doorway and retreated back to my office, leaving her to ponder my less-than-subtle offer. It didn’t take Bobbie very long to make it down the hallway and peek into my office. She stepped past the doorframe to my office and silently settled into the office chair that I had positioned by my desk.
I gave her a quick glance and returned to my storyboard and typing on my laptop computer. She took in a deep breath and then forcefully exhaled.
“Talk to me,” I nonchalantly instructed, never looking up from my keyboard as I typed.
“Aren’t you happily married?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied. I waited a second and then appended my response. “But I’m not blind.”
“Wouldn’t your wife be upset if she knew you were looking at another woman?” she pressed.
“Yes,” I replied. “And I’m sure James would be equally upset if he knew you walked around the office with your shirt unbuttoned, showing off your stuff.”
“I’m just being comfortable,” Bobbi replied. “Besides, he probably wouldn’t give a shit.”
Bobbi stood up and closed my office door. She leaned against it after it closed. I stopped typing and looked at her. She plopped back into the chair next to my desk.
“I don’t know how to say this,” she began, her gaze fixed straight ahead. “I find you extremely attractive and intriguing.”
Whoa! What?
“I know,” Bobbi continued, “that both of us are in committed relationships, so this makes it even harder, and stop me if I’m making a fool of myself.”
I wasn’t about to stop her.
“No,” I replied, “You’re not being foolish, you’re just trying to come to terms with some stress, and your emotions and your intellect are probably not aligning. I know how you feel. I get stressed out as well. There is nothing more liberating than the freedom of expression that comes when one is exasperated.”
Bobbie took in a deep breath and explained that she and James were having a lot of marital issues. And financial issues. I nodded my head to indicate that I understood.
“We don’t even have sex anymore,” Bobbie blurted out. “I love the idiot, but he doesn’t even come close to meeting my needs.”
“Sometimes,” I reasoned, “the ability to be passionate is hard, especially when you’re married and you’re under a lot of stress. It does not, however, lessen the love.”
I was making things up as I went along.
“We all have needs, some of them get met and some of them don’t,” I said. I took in a deep breath and forcefully exhaled.
Bobbi batted her eyes. She looked straight ahead, not saying a word.
“Sometimes,” I added, “we have to take a deep breath and re-evaluate things.”
“Why do you have to make so much goddamn sense?” she asked as she looked at me, her legs slightly spread from her seated position next to my desk. I wheeled my chair to a position directly in front of her.
I placed my elbows on my knees and extended my hands on her knees, and said, “I’m here for you, babe. I know how you feel. I feel the same way.”
I was being metaphorical, but then she placed her hands onto mine and we connected for the first time since our accidental hallway bump several weeks before.
I looked down at her hands, and I found myself clasping her hands in mine. Her hands were cold but quickly warmed as I looked at her.
“If it makes it any easier for you,” I said softly, “I’ll step out of the way and we’ll pretend this conversation never happened.”
Bobbi began to shake her head back and forth.
“Oh no,” she declared, “If I have come this far, I’m not turning back.”
Suddenly, she leaned forward in her chair and grabbed my head with both of her hands. She pressed her luscious lips to mine and thrust her wicked tongue deep into my mouth.
Whoa! I was not prepared for her sudden spurt of passion.
I stood up and told her that I wasn’t sure if we should be taking things to the level they were heading.
“I need some passion and attentiveness,” she said. “Please indulge me.”
Indulge her? Hell, I wanted to fuck the crap out of her.
In an instant, she was fumbling with my belt buckle and forcing her hand in past the waistband of my blue jeans, feeling for my rapidly expanding tool. I don’t think I could have stopped her, even if I wanted to. She was determined and very focused.
There was no turning back at this point.
I unzipped my jeans to relieve the pressure that had built up. She tugged at my jeans and then pulled them downward, as she fell to her knees right in front of me. My eight-and-a-half-inch, circumcised tool arched upwards, free of its constraints.
Bobbi didn’t waste any time attacking my tool. She was methodical and deliberate, and she knew exactly what she was doing. I held on to her head as she worked my tool in and out of her mouth, sucking on it and then licking it feverishly from my balls to the very tip end. I told her she needed to slow it down or I’d unload right then and there. She didn’t seem to care.
She stood up and looked directly at me, again, biting down on her lower lip. She quickly stripped out of her button-down shirt, allowing it to fall to the floor. She reached behind her back and unfastened the clasp to her bra, allowing her 34C-cup breasts, with tiny little hardened nipples perched on top of her beautiful man-made globes, to come into full view.
Oh my Gawd!
I toe-to-heel kicked off my shoes and managed to step out of my blue jeans and my underwear, as Bobbi shimmied out of her jeans. Her tiny pink thing barely covered anything of significance and clung to her hoochie. She turned and placed her hands on my desk and wiggled her ass in front of me like a stripper, as she looked back at me.
“What do you think?” she proudly asked.
“I think your husband is one lucky guy!” I replied.
“Yeah, but he doesn’t measure up nearly enough or like you do,” Bobbi replied, as she proffered a wink in my direction.
I slipped behind my office guest and grabbed her bare hips, pushing my steel rod against her buttocks. I helped her out of her thong, enjoying the view of her shaved kitty from behind.
Jesus! This woman was hot!
Bobbie grasped the edges of my desk, her knuckles turning white as I worked my tool into her moist pussy, slowly thrusting my hips into her sweet little bubble butt. Each of my hip thrusts was met with an “ugh” sound as she gasped for breaths, her head lowered.
She pushed the items on my desk across it and out of the way. She climbed onto my desktop, and after flipping onto her back, she pulled her legs pulled up to her chest and I reinserted myself back into her glory spot. I grabbed her ankles and thrust her legs straight upwards, as I pounded her with everything I had to offer. She grasped the edges of my desk and began to shake, begging me to not stop.
“I hope you’re on the pill,” I declared, as I started my “data” dump inside of her.
“I… am…” she replied, breathlessly, as I pumped everything I had into her. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her entire body began to shake and tremble.
“Oh God! Yessss!” she cried out.
I simply held my position, my good deed accomplished, allowing her and myself to savor our moment of connection.
As nature took its course, I retreated to my office chair as she turned sideways on my desk and looked at me.
“You can become habit-forming,” she mused, as she propped her head up in the palm of her hand.
“You too,” I replied.
As we got dressed, I asked Bobbi if she had any guilty feelings.
“No,” she replied, “None at all, but I’m going to have to admit, this is pretty risky.”
Risky was an understatement, as the walls were paper thin and neither of us had even thought to lock the office door.
Bobbi retreated to her office, leaving me alone to ponder what had just happened. I didn’t have to wait long…
