Two Eleven and Our Semi-Public Show

"She was a lawyer. I was an accountant. We had nothing in common."

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I saw her on the elevator and we briefly exchanged looks and smiles as we headed up to the 48th floor. Clarke and Weston Law Firm had half the floor and Anderson Consulting had the second half. I wondered who she worked for on the 48th. She stepped off the elevator and headed toward the law offices as I headed toward my accounting office.

I couldn’t get her out of my mind. She was strikingly beautiful with her jet black long hair, model-like features and hot body. I figured she was either a legal assistant or perhaps a clerk.

I tried to finish up a work project but couldn’t focus. Three cups of coffee later, I was finally able to crank out my first preliminary report of a small business I had been assigned to audit. I stepped on the elevator and took it to the ground floor for lunch. There was a small deli just off the main concourse. I stepped in and surveyed the menu board. There was a line of folks waiting to place their lunch orders. Then, I noticed, there she was again, standing right in front of me.

She wore a black, just above the knee length business skirt, and stylish heels. She had yet to notice me, which was a great, since I had a few minutes to try and think of what to say. She stepped up to the counter and ordered Tuna on Rye and an iced tea. I watched as she fished out her credit card and paid for the items. The clerk gave her a number and as she turned, she looked in my direction. She smiled and nodded her head to indicate she had recognized me.

“Hey,” I responded.

“Hi,” she replied, flashing a smile. She stepped to the side and I stepped up to the counter to place my order.

“Number seventy,” the clerk told me. I stepped to the side.

I looked at my number as my dream girl was looking at her cell phone. I stood off to the side, wanting to say something, but not knowing what to say.

“Number sixty nine,” the clerk called out. My dream girl stepped forward to claim her lunch. She turned and looked at me.

“See ya,” she remarked.

“Yes, later,” I instinctively replied, as though I knew her.

She turned and walked away and I felt like a stupid fool. I had no idea who she was, what she did or anything about her. I knew where she worked and that as about all I knew. Our encounters had been happenstance and I hoped to see her again.

“Number seventy,” the lunch counter clerk called out. I grabbed my lunch and quickly hurried to the lobby, hoping to share the elevator ride back to the 48th with my dream girl. Unfortunately, she was gone.

The afternoon work grind was tough. I kept alternating between work and day dreaming. I couple of new audit assignments rolled into my In-Box, so I decided to stay late and play catch-up. The offices emptied quickly.

I took a quick stroll around the office about seven o’clock. I was the only one left. I stepped down the hallway to the restroom. As I was coming out of the men’s room, I practically walked right into her. She was looking down, readjusting her skirt and I wasn’t paying much attention either. Both of us quickly took a step back, making apologies before either of us knew who we had practically run over.

“I see I’m not the only one working late,” she remarked.

“Yes,” I replied, “The work never ends.”

“What do you do?” she inquired.

“Financial audits,” I replied, “and you?”

“I am an employment labor specialist,” she replied. She stuck out her hand in my direction and introduced herself, “Rebecca”.

I did a quick survey and noticed she wasn’t wearing any rings. I figured she was either single by choice or divorced.

“So are you on your way out?” I inquired.

“No,” she replied. “I think I’ve got about another hour of work to do.”

I could tell she didn’t relish the late work hours and I was right there with her when it came to staying late at work. Acting on an impulse, I asked her if she wanted to share a cup of coffee. To my surprise, she said “Yes.”

One of the great benefits of working in a financial services company was having a great coffee bar. On the way to the bar, I learned that Rebecca was a newly licensed attorney and that this was her first job since passing the bar exam.

Rebecca was unpretentious, and down to earth. She said she was raised in a middle income family and that her being able to go to law school came at a huge cost – no social life. She leaned against the coffee counter as our coffee brewed.

“What about you?” she asked.

I told her I was single by choice, preferring to take my time to find the right soul mate.

“A playboy,” Rebecca teasingly surmised. I readily admitted to my one character fault.

I handed Rebecca her cup of coffee.

“So where is your office?” she asked.

“Down the hallway,” I replied, “It’s not much, but it works.”

Without saying a word, Rebecca sauntered down the hallway, peering into each office. As she did, I replied, “No, no, no, and no,” as she peered into each open door. Finally, we got to the end of the hallway.

“You have a corner office?” she asked.

“I worked hard for it,” I replied.

Rebecca stepped into my office and over to the floor to ceiling glass window that allowed for a view of the cityscape and the office tower next door.

“Wow!” she exclaimed, “What a view!”

I had gotten used to the view over the years. In fact, I rarely if ever, consciously looked out the window. My desk faced the office entry and my back was usually to the windows. I sat down in my high back leather desk chair and swiveled around, my feet stretched out and my ankles crossed. There was no way to hide the obvious tent that had formed in my pants.

Rebecca looked in my direction. I could see her eyes quickly survey me.

“Are we comfortable?” she asked.

“Yes, I am,” I replied.

Rebecca looked back out the window.

“That view is amazing,” she remarked, “You can actually see people in the tower next door, still at work.”

“Yeah,” I responded, “You wonder if they ever take a break.”

Rebecca turned and looked at me.

“Do we have the floor to ourselves?” she asked.

“I’m pretty sure we do in this office,” I replied, “I can’t speak for the law firm next door.”

Rebecca stepped closer to my desk. She leaned against the edge of my desk, still looking out the window. I could smell her sweet aroma. She inched her way on to my desk, sitting on it, her black skirt inching up enough to give me a better view of her well-toned thighs as she dangled her legs off of the desk.

“You know,” I commented, “One night I was working late and saw a guy and a girl making out right across from where we are.”

“No way!” Rebecca exclaimed.

“What did you do?”

“I watched,” I replied.

Rebecca looked at me.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“Yes, I am,” I replied.

Rebecca glanced down at my crotch.

“Turned you on, didn’t it?” she remarked.

“Yes,” I replied, “Kind of like the same thing you’ve done.”

“Yeah right,” Rebecca replied.

I placed my hand on her bare knee.

Rebecca took in a deep breath and exhaled, looking straight ahead, and out the window. I rubbed my hand back and forth on her thigh. She continued to stare silently out the window, her hands resting on my desk beside her.

I slipped my finger to the inside of her thigh and again, she took in a deep breath and exhaled. I rolled my chair to position myself, right in front of her, parting her legs. She looked down at me, silently and expressionless. I slipped my hands under her skirt, along her thighs and up to her panties. I looped my fingers around the elastic of her panties and pulled on them as she continued to stare out the window behind me. She lifted her butt just enough to accommodate me. I slipped her panties past her knees and then past her bare feet, as she kicked off her heels.

I slipped out of my desk chair and on to my knees, between her legs. I pushed her skirt up and peered up at her bald pink pussy. I looked up at her and she had her eyes closed. I slipped my hand up to her womanhood and gently, using a finger, probed her pussy. She was wet and moist and ready for action. I was surprised.

I fumbled with the zipper to her skirt. Rebecca unhooked her safety snap and lowered the zipper. She arched her back as she again lifted her buttocks off my desk, allowing me to silently slide her skirt off of her. She slipped out of her blazer and unfastened her button down blouse.

As Rebecca shed her clothes, I eased over to my office door and closed it, as a safety precaution. When I turned around, Rebecca was totally naked and sprawled across my desk, on her back, her legs arched and spread. She stared silently up at the ceiling.

I unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it from my trousers. I slipped out of my shoes and socks and slid my trousers and my underwear off. It felt strangely weird, being almost naked in the office. My cock was fully erect, as I stepped over to my desk. Rebecca reached out and felt for my manhood, taking my cock, silently, into her hand.

I stepped behind my desk and pulled her into a seated position facing me, her legs hanging off the desk, straddling my hips. I put a hand on her shoulder and worked it up to her neck, as she looked off in the distance.

“Hello,” I whispered.

Rebecca looked at me. Our eyes locked on to each other.

“This is so not like me,” Rebecca whispered.

“Me either,” I whispered back, running my hand up her bare thigh and to her side.

I leaned in and placed a light kiss on to her cheek. Rebecca took my cock into her hand and lightly played with it, running her fingers along my shaft and cupping my balls in her hand. She moved forward to the edge of my desk. She placed the head of my cock at the entry to her pussy and rubbed it along the outer edges of her engorged pussy lips.

Her mouth was slightly open, as she rubbed my cock along the creases of her pussy. Our lips were practically touching. Her breath was hot and heavy. I slipped my lips on to hers and pushed my tongue into her mouth. She reciprocated, our tongues pushing deeper and deeper into each other’s soul.

I pushed my cock into her pussy. She shivered and trembled.

I put my hands on her hips and pushed my hips back and forth, my pelvis crashing into hers. I shoved my cock all the way into her. She gripped my shoulders, her finger nails digging into them.

After a few minutes of fast and furious fucking, I positioned Rebecca on my desk, face down, her ass facing me.

“Put it in my ass,” Rebecca called out, her brown star fish pointing at me. I had never put my cock into a woman’s ass and I wasn’t sure I should or could.

“I wanna feel it in my ass,” Rebecca begged.

I slipped the head of my cock up to her ass. It was going to be a tight fit, especially with no lubrication. She rubbed her pussy and spread some of her juices up to her ass. As I pushed my cock into the small opening, Rebecca took a deep breath and held on to the side of the desk, her knuckles turning white. I slowly forced my cock into her ass.

“Oh shit!” she exclaimed. “Fuck me! Hard!”

I couldn’t fit my cock fully into her asshole, no matter how hard I tried. So I slipped out and pushed myself back into her pussy. As I entered her from behind, she lifted her head up and exclaimed,

“Oh yesss! Do me, baby, fuck me hard!”

My pelvis slapped against her buttocks as I slammed my rod deep into her pussy.

“Oh fuck, yesss!” Rebecca screamed.

She gripped the side of the desk. Her hands were trembling. I couldn’t hold back and shot my load deep inside of her, while holding on to her hips. I filled her with so much cum that it ran down her leg and on to the floor. Rebecca shook and shook and shook, as orgasm after orgasm rocked her hard body.

Exhausted and spent, I pulled back and sat in my chair as Rebecca lie naked and motionless across my desk. After a few minutes, she looked back at me.

“That was freaking awesome!” she remarked. I had to agree.

Rebecca and I both dressed in silence. I couldn’t believe what had just transpired. I sat back in my office chair, as Rebecca dressed, and I looked out the window.

Looking across the divide between our office towers, I could see people milling about in the other office tower. On the windows of the office tower across the street were pieces of paper. I grabbed binoculars which I had stored in my desk drawer and surveyed the building across the street. To my surprise, I saw five sheets of paper taped to the windows, each with a number marked on it. There were three tens, a nine and one had a ten with two plus signs.

“What are you looking at?” Rebecca inquired. I handed her the binoculars.

“What the hell?” Rebecca remarked, surveying the score posted on the windows. “A frickin nine?”

I had to laugh.

“I think the plus signs override the lower score,” I remarked. As we watched, two guys walked up to the window. They saw us looking at them. They both gave us two thumbs up and then posted their rating.

“Two elevens,” and that is how Rebecca became nicked-named, “Two-eleven.”

Published 10 years ago

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