Following our trip to Zurich, Daphne and I had no further physical contact other than a lingering hug at her leaving drinks. Even without our one-night tryst, I would have missed her as a colleague. The energy she brought to the team was going to be difficult to replace.
As the weeks wore on, we all adjusted. There was no choice, as the first quarter of the new year was surprisingly busy. So busy in fact, that it was common for me to check my calendar on a Monday morning to find wall-to-wall meetings for the week. All of the associated sitting around and talking meant that any “real work” was shifted to the evenings or weekends.
Finally, one Monday, I was pleased to see a gap on my calendar for the coming Thursday. I was about to put a block on the time when in popped a meeting request titled, “Managers’ Debriefing”. No other details were provided. The sender was a colleague called Tamsin.
I knew who Tamsin was, but didn’t know her well. We were at the same managerial level in the firm, but rarely interacted. She held a PhD in Biochemistry so she mostly focused on pharmaceutical clients. I did see her a couple of times a year in meetings with other managers to discuss employee performance reviews, and she always came across as insightful and fair as well as a strong advocate for her team.
Physically, she gave off the air of the nerdy girl who was always head of the class. She had slightly unruly, shoulder-length hair and wore thickly rimmed glasses. Her dress sense leaned to the practical side of professional and was always demure, making it difficult to get a sense of her physique. However, that was made even more challenging since she seemed to be perpetually pregnant. Not long before she sent the meeting request, Tamsin had announced that she was expecting her fourth child.
I’d met her husband, Alan, at a work party many years prior. He seemed very down-to-earth despite his accent (and signet ring!) marking him out as posh. I since learned that his younger brother was a Conservative MP, although just a back-bencher at that time. Apparently, Alan had read PPE at Oxford and, to his credit, decided to put his skills to work for an international NGO. His position required him to travel to some of the world’s poorest and most dangerous places on a frequent basis.
With three small children and a mostly absentee spouse, I suspected that Tamsin must have a significant amount of help at home. Rumour had it that they resided in Alan’s family’s country estate, which I guessed had room for a nanny or two.
It seemed Tamsin didn’t have to work but chose to. Her career drive was evident from the fact that she rarely took more than a few months of maternity leave. While she may not have been present for her children, Tamsin showed a deeply maternal concern for the consultants on her team, particularly the younger women. Although Daphne had reported to me, I was aware that she and Tamsin spoke often.
The morning Tamsin and I were due to meet, I was booked solid on client calls. The last one overran so as the reminder pinged on my phone, I scrambled to look up which meeting room she’d booked. The invitation didn’t list one, but that wasn’t uncommon. The firm was definitely running short of meeting rooms. As a consequence, smaller groups, and usually one-on-one chats, would often take place in the common areas.
Feeling a bit on the back foot, I looked up to find Tamsin standing at the corner of my desk wearing a simple white blouse and pale blue trousers. An expensive-looking cashmere cardigan hung from her shoulders to her knees, providing warmth and a cover for her expanding figure. A notebook branded with the firm’s logo was under one arm.
“Ready, Jack?” she asked.
“Sure. I was just looking to see what room you’d booked,” I replied.
“There wasn’t anything suitable on the system, but I know a good spot. Follow me.”
With that, I grabbed my pen and notebook and let Tamsin lead the way.
There were a couple of chairs open near the coffee machines, but Tamsin pushed on and led me to the far corner of our building. She paused in front of the “Quiet Room” and extracted a key from her trouser pocket. Wordlessly glancing over her shoulders, she unlocked the door and left it open for me to follow her inside.
The Quiet Room was a space reserved for any employee who might be feeling unwell and who needed a calm, dark space to recover. It was a small, windowless, rectangular room with a medical type table/bed covered in the paper roll we’re all familiar with from doctor visits – not the most comfortable apparatus, but sufficient for a lie-down when feeling poorly. A mirror above the bed, a squat upholstered chair and a small table on which sat a box of tissues, completed the sparse décor.
One member of my team suffered from migraines and would use the room from time to time. Pregnant women were encouraged to take advantage of it as part of the firm’s initiative to appear more accommodating to female employees. It was not surprising then that Tamsin was able to access the key. The question was, why had she brought me here?
Tamsin closed the door. When I heard the lock turn and saw the lights dim, I gave her a puzzled look.
“Jack, I wanted to let you know that Daphne told me what happened between you two in Zurich.”
Fuck!
“Tamsin, listen… I… it was…”
“No need to worry, Jack. Since no rumours have surfaced, I’ve worked out that you and I are about the only two people in this firm who can keep a secret.”
I didn’t know how to respond, so said nothing as my heart rate returned to normal after my initial scare.
“I need your help, and I need you to be discreet.”
“OK. What can I do for you?”
“Well, this didn’t happen with my first two kids, but in my third pregnancy, I got very, VERY horny, particularly in the second trimester. I’m afraid it’s happening again. Alan has been in Syria for the last month, and there is no knowing when he’ll be back again. I’ve got a big report to finish by Monday, and I just can’t concentrate.”
I liked where this was going. It had been a while since I’d had any action, and, as a man, I was no stranger to being driven to distraction by sexual thoughts.
“I’m assuming you want me to lend a helping hand. Are we going to…” I let my question trail off but looked at Tamsin with my eyebrows raised expectantly.
“I don’t know. Let’s just see what happens,” she replied, as she removed her cardigan, folding it neatly and placing it on the chair.
Tamsin’s movements were unhurried and deliberate. She knew she had a captive audience, but I guessed she wanted to demonstrate her sense of control over the tempo of the proceedings. My initial feeling of awkwardness was dissolving and being replaced by the thick sense of anticipation in the room.
“Here, stand behind me,” she said, as she turned to face the bed and slowly began to unbutton her blouse. She then pulled my arms across her chest and guided my hands into the cups of her bra where I could feel her nipples hardening. I worked the little nubs between my extended index and ring fingers giving them a gentle squeeze.
As I did, Tamsin let out a sigh of deep satisfaction, as if she were drinking a cool glass of water after a long, parching journey. I could see from the mirror that she’d closed her eyes as she leaned back into me. We stood there for some moments, both enjoying the physical contact, our heartbeats echoing between us.
I’ve always found pregnant women sexy. The swelling of the breasts and increased meatiness of the pussy emphasize all that makes women attractive in the first place. Tamsin’s full, pregnant breasts sat firmly, sexily in my hands.
“You know, when I was younger, I could cum from nipple-play alone, but I need a little more stimulation these days,” she explained as she undid the button on her trousers. From our embrace, I could feel the movements as her left hand slid below the slight curve of her belly. Her fingers delved into her knickers, and she began stimulating herself.
Standing in the darkened room with my arms wrapped around Tamsin, I became acutely aware of her breathing. Her breaths became shorter and sharper as her arousal increased – then stopped altogether. After about thirty seconds I began to get worried. After a few seconds more, Tamsin let out a massive gasp and began to quiver in my arms. Her peak surpassed, she melted backwards into me.
We stood like that for several minutes as she regained her composure. She then surprised me by sliding her left hand between us and tracing the outline of my cock through my trousers.
“Looks like you are enjoying yourself,” she observed.
“Yes, but not as much you are. That’s fine, though. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
“It is, but one small orgasm isn’t quite going to carry me over,” she said. Then, giving my cock a tap, she continued, “Take it out.”
As I undid my belt and unzipped my khakis, I watched Tamsin pull her trousers down to her ankles, revealing a sensible pair of pink cotton knickers. After sliding those down as well, she reached for my cock and positioned it between her thighs.
We again stood wordlessly appreciating each other’s presence as I savoured the sensation of having my cock between her wet pussy lips and her lovely round, pale bottom pressed into me. Almost imperceptibly at first, she began rocking her hips forward and back. On her forward strokes I could feel the ridge of my cockhead catch on her clit as she engulfed the length of my rod.
As she continued her movements, I slid my hands up under her blouse and unclasped her bra. Reaching around to again find her swollen breasts, I began tweaking her nipples in earnest. Tamsin’s hip motions became more frantic, and she commanded me to pull her hair.
Releasing her right breast, I combed my fingers through her mane and gently pulled her head backwards and to the right. Although I hadn’t been asked to, I used the opportunity to kiss the nape of her exposed neck. That seemed to send her into overdrive.
The next thing I knew, Tamsin pushed me backwards releasing my cock from her thigh gap. She kicked off her shoes and freed her ankles from her trousers. She then bent one leg and threw her knee up onto the bed; the other leg remained on the ground. Her pussy was completely exposed.
Looking back over her shoulder, Tamsin said, “Let me lead – take it SLOWLY,” with an air of authority in her voice.
With her arms rigid at her sides, she motioned me forward with her hands. I stepped nearer, my stiff cock bouncing slightly as I went. I knew to hesitate just at the point where my dick made contact with Tamsin’s cunt. The tip of my swollen cock luxuriated in the heat radiating from her core.
Tamsin’s hands found mine. As our fingers interlocked, she motioned me forward, indicating I should enter her. Millimeter by millimeter I progressed, watching her lips expand to accept the broadening girth of my head then contract as her meaty curtains closed around my shaft.
It would be a lie to say that she was anywhere near as tight at Daphne – understandably giving birth to three kids had taken its toll. However, what Tamsin lacked in firmness, she made up for in technique.
She tightened her grip on my hands and pushed back slightly which I took to mean I should remain still. She then began to gyrate her hips on my cock. What a feeling! Her ass made motions I didn’t think possible, as it became clear that she was less fucking me than massaging the inside of her pussy with my cock. I could feel my head strafing along the spongy mass of each wall and returning time and again to her most sensitive spots. Up, down, sideways and back, I watched her hips guide her to the points of greatest pleasure, drawing a sexy figure-eight in rhythm before me.
The heat and wetness increased with the pace of her gyrations until her pleasure pattern collapsed to a simple, hungry forward and back humping motion. That’s when I knew it was time to contribute to the friction between us. As she scooped her pelvis forward, I pulled back only to slam forward into her on its return. For several minutes the sound of the slapping of our flesh reverberated around, filling the room.
Tamsin came before I did. A grunt of delight was followed by a gush of hot liquid emanating from her swollen cunt and splashing on the floor. Her pelvic thrusts continued just long enough to get me to the edge. She pulled forward releasing my cock in time for me to shoot my load onto her gaping labia. As I stepped back, I watched creamy white globs of my spunk drip from her pussy lips, joining her ejaculate on the tiled floor.
Without raising her head, Tamsin told me in her typical business-like manner, “Go ahead. I’ll clean up.”
Taking a few tissues from the box, I wiped my cock and balls the best I could, dressed and went back to my desk.
I spent much of the rest of the afternoon in a happy, post-coital daze recalling the sensation of Tamsin’s plump breasts in my hands and the exquisite motions of her hips as well as chuckling at the double entendre Tamsin used for the meeting description. My only question was, would it ever happen again? The answer came soon enough.
With a ping on my computer, I was alerted to an update on the status of our meeting. I read the words, “Weekly Recurring” and broke out in a broad smile.
