subhub174014
Member
Posts: 187644
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The company cafeteria had been re-arranged to serve as a
classroom. The long tables sat in rows with the seats placed on
one side facing a makeshift rostrum standing before a chalk
board.
My husband invited me along to hear the insurance man explain our
new medical and benefits plan. The group was mostly couples, but
singles were sprinkled throughout with many seats vacant. Half of
the expected crowd never showed up. They obviously had better
things to do on a beautiful Saturday morning, but not my
workaholic, ladder-climbing husband.
I was a bit annoyed at being there in the first place when a
large, casually-dressed man took the seat beside me when the seat
at the end of our row was vacant. Bob, my husband, seemed to
recognize the man, but they didn't openly acknowledge each other.
Most of the people came casually dressed, but the man on my left
was casual to the extreme. He wore loose shorts (thin and brief),
a muscle shirt, and flip flops. He had muscular, hairy legs with
bulging biceps, so he didn't look absurd, just overly comfortable
and terribly under-dressed.
I've got nothing against casual, especially for men in good
shape; it was mostly my over-dressed attire that made me feel
uncomfortable about sitting beside him. I wore a dress with heels
and was feeling ridiculous before Mr. Causal took a seat beside
me and made me look like a prom queen at a sand lot rugby game.
To make matters worse, when he took his seat, he moved his chair
even closer to mine, invading my personal space. I had to keep my
legs together and canted to the right to avoid our legs touching.
I would not have had to cant my legs if he hadn't sat with his
legs in a sprawl. He sat back in his chair to show off his
crotch. With his beefy arms folded over his barrel chest, he
looked arrogant and cocky.
I allowed my eyes to dart to his crotch and could then add vulgar
to cocky. He could not have been wearing underwear. With my eyes
still looking where they shouldn't, he boldly re-arranged
himself. I quickly looked to my right and into the accusing eyes
of my spouse. I blushed while trying to convey with a look, "I'm
sorry, but look how he's displaying himself."
Fortunately, no one could see what I was seeing, as we sat on the
far left at the last table. In our row, two other couples sat
together at the far right end, leaving eight empty chairs between
us.
Most of the men took notes as the speaker talked. A cute young
girl made continuous trips to the ends of each row, passing out material.
She was a picture of
innocence except for a precocious glint in her sparkling blue
eyes. I was eager to see if my nasty neighbor would hide his
obscene lap when she next came by, or her reaction if he didn't.
Her presence at the end of the table gave me an excuse to look
left. To my utter amazement, he not only remained in his vulgar
sprawl, but openly adjusted himself, played with himself was more
like it. He had her complete attention riveted to his lap as she
absent-mindedly and slowly counted out seven handouts.
I gave him a dirty look which he returned with a dirty-little-boy
smile. He would not slide our handouts down, ******* me to reach
across for them. His right thigh and my left touched in the
process. He, in fact, pressed his leg to mine. The girl caught
this and smiled before leaving. I knew we'd be seeing a lot more
of her.
With his leg still pressed against mine, I drew the papers over
and took one, passing the rest on to my husband. Bob was staring
at the man's leg still touching mine. I could not avoid the leg
without turning side saddle and sitting uncomfortably. I gave Bob
a look that said, "Don't just look. Say something."
Bob took the papers, kept one, then got up to deliver the other
four to the people at the far end. When he got up, a meaty hand
rested hard on my bare thigh between my hem and my knee. I turned
to glare at the rude man, but glared into a devilish smile as the
hand began massaging its way up my leg, pushing my skirt up as it
went.
I placed my left hand on his, but that only gave my left hand a
ride up my thigh. The man was solid muscle. His hand went clear
to my panties. While my husband made his delivery, the fingers of
that hand firmly and thoroughly felt the crotch. I was so
shocked, I was speechless and paralyzed. His hand slid back to my
knee as Bob made his way back. When Bob took his seat, only then
did the hand leave my leg.
Bob saw where the hand had been, because he saw where my skirt
remained, and he'd watched the hand leave the scene of the crime.
With my left leg laid bare to the crotch, and my right bare to
mid thigh, I glared at Bob. I left my skirt where it was to *****
Bob to act; after all, I didn't put it there. Meanwhile, the girl
came to stand at the rear on our side with a not-so-subtle view
of our laps. By the look she gave my lap, she obviously approved
my decision to leave the skirt alone.
Bob surprised me by ignoring what happened. He put his nose in
the handout. The presence of the girl would have ****** me to
cover myself, but the nasty gleam in her eye, still there from
her earlier trip, told me she'd like my skirt left where it was.
I could say I didn't care what she saw or thought; but the truth
was, her being a witness to this crude man's bold seduction was
turning me on. I had the feeling
that he was using me to get to her, and the technique was
working. I very quickly grew to support that goal. It was like I
was showing her by example how to cooperate with a ********. My
attitude took a radical turn at that point.
My husband's inexplicable attempt at ignoring the obvious turned
me on even more. Furthermore, Mr. Casual was no slouch. Although
twice my age, he looked fit and virile. In addition, the man was
hung, sporting a full blown erection that pushed the material of
his shorts over the waist band, totally exposing the biggest pair
of balls I'd ever seen as they hung in the open through the baggy
right leg hole of his shorts.
I knew he had big balls before he showed them. To make a play for
a man's wife, right in front of the husband, at work, in public,
took balls the likes of which I'd never
encountered in my twenty-two tender years.
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subhub174014
Member
Posts: 187644
|
I secretly love a cocky man if he's clean and can carry it off.
Mr. Casual was just such a man. In addition to rugged good looks,
he had manicured nails. He wore expensive jewelry to go with an
expensive watch. I suspected he normally wore a thousand dollar
suit, and I also suspected he was a big wig in the company,
perhaps the owner. I didn't know, but I knew Bob was intimidated
by more than his size.
Had he been unkept, with dirty fingernails, sporting a tattoo, I
would have gotten up and sat on my husband's other side. This man
was playing a role. Everything pointed to him being the owner.
Only the owner could be that cool and unconcerned, never looking
over his shoulder or seeming to care what anyone thought. Only
the owner would attend a benefits seminar and not take notes or
interest in what was being said. Only the owner would think he
could get away with such brash behavior.
I made a conscious decision to do nothing to discourage him. Any
man with my immediate future in the palm of his hand can
certainly place the palm of his hand where he damned well
pleased. If Bod didn't want me seduced, he'd have to stop it; but
if the hand did, indeed, belong to J. S. Bennington, I knew Bob
wouldn't say a word. That prospect thrilled me to my toes.
My dirty looks stopped after the hand left my knee and Bob
remained silent. After a minute, the hand returned and trailed
feather-light touches up and down my bare thigh. Bob immersed
himself in literature, even as a finger pressed my panties in the
wet groove of my sex.
With a finger pressed on my clit, I looked left and smiled. Mr.
Casual returned my smile. With my passive
acceptance, he managed to get my skirt completely off both legs
and exposed my powder blue panties above the mound. My vagina
became a cunt at this point, and my cunt insisted I relax my
legs. My left pressed against Mr. Casual and my right pressed
against Mr. Uptight. My cunt was pleased and poured out enough
slut slime to turn my powder blue crotch a darker shade of blue.
The girl had to be called away to get the next set
of handouts. When she returned, she saw the man's finger dig it's
way under my leg band to rummage in my slimy wetness, exposing
most of my shaved left labia lip as it did so. She counted out
papers with her big blue eyes fastened to my shameless cunt lip.
Mr. Casual, casually pushed my panty crotch off my cunt, then
stroked my naked pussy for her benefit. We watched his finger toy
with my excited clit. He had his right arm
resting on the back of my chair with his left in my lap. Everyone
could see that much, and I could see them speculating about what
was going on below the table. My blush only confirmed what they
were thinking, but my cunt insisted I sit still and let Bob
handle it.
Bob handled it by taking the new handout to the four people who
looked around him to see the hand in my crotch finger-fucking me.
The hand continued finger-fucking me, and they continued jockeying
for a view as my embarrassed husband made his way back. Again, my
steaming cunt insisted I let Bob handle it while the boss handled
it.
Bob handled it by trying to block their view when he retook his
seat. He effectively spoiled their view, but Mandy's view, when
she returned with another handout, was excellent. Her gaze,
alone, told the many faces peering back what was going on.
Bob buried his red face deeper in paper as the boss man buried fingers
deeper in my hot cunt.
The boss had my cunt dancing to his tune. I felt shameless.
Everyone knew, some saw, and very little speculation was still
going on. I saw husbands whispering to wives, wives smiling
knowingly, and single men wishing they were in his place.
I was now glad I'd taken the time to look my best. I knew I
looked great, sexy, even sultry. With my skirt in my lap, no
pantyhose, and my cunt in the open, I felt positively slutty. I
silently congratulated my bold decision to let the chips fall
where they may. I knew Bob would be pissed, hurt, angry, and
humiliated when we got home, but he could have stopped it.
He should have stopped things at the first indecent touch. He
missed a window of opportunity, because I'm sure the man gave him
that option and would have behaved himself had he been rebuked.
Bob remained silent too long. The damage was done, and I sensed
that the man was not going to be discouraged by dirty looks or
hurt feelings after getting his fingers wet and discovering what
a cute and tight pussy I had between my sexy legs. I think he put
the other girl out of his mind and decided I was the choicest choice.
As Boss crudely worked the panties off my legs, Bob did, in fact,
give him a dirty look which was ignored. He gave me one when I
raised my ass from the seat, but that was ignored as well. The
panties wouldn't come off unless I raised up, and they had to
come off. My cunt insisted.
The bold seducer placed my wet panties on the table for all to
see, and they all saw. Poor Bob whispered while staring in my lap
under the paper he held, "For God's sake, Jenny, stop this."
My cunt, if it could speak, would have said, "Fuck you. If you
want it stopped, you stop it." I sat back and allowed my left leg
to be placed over the man's thighs. He also pushed my dress to my
middle. Mandy returned with more paper and smiled her approval.
The four people to our right also smiled their approval when Bob
had to get up.
Since Boss had me naked from the waist down and was showing off
my cunt, I decided that turn-about was fair play and exposed his
rampant cock. I took that meaty love engine in my hand and had
room for two more hands. I pumped on that magnificent fuck stick
with my cunt screaming for me to sit on his lap.
I tried to tell my dumb cunt that I couldn't do that unless he
placed me on his lap. When Bob returned, the Boss pulled me onto
his lap. I went easily. Bob sat and buried his face in his hands
as his boss buried his rod in one soupy receptive and happy cunt.
That big rod slid in me like a hot poker going in a tub of warm
lard. Every eye watched me slowly settle, but Mandy actually
watched the dick slide in.
He didn't fuck me. He simply impaled me on his cock, then soaked
in my pussy. I relaxed in his embrace, slumped against his chest
with my legs outside his legs, his hands cupping my breasts,
stuck like a bug. My repose suggested total surrender.
He could have fucked me. He could have stripped me naked, laid me
on the table, and fucked me to his heart's content. I was putty.
He was making a point or showing off. I didn't care which. I got
the point, and I was impressed. So was Mandy.
Bob was impressed when he saw the man's hands reach under my
bunched dress to slide up my bare torso to my tits. He unhooked
the center clasp of my bra and took my titties in his hands. I
sat with my bare midriff showing above the table top. They were
all looking, and I'm sure they caught glimpses of bare breast
flesh being molded in manly hands. I languished on a huge cock
and let my breasts show off.
Boss had me squirming on his cock, and I squirmed so good, I made
him cum. Feeling this man's sperm flood my womb with forty sets
of eyes watching made me moan. I came when he brought my turgid
nipples out and rolled them in his fingers to amuse the lookie
loos.
After I came, I relaxed in decadent wonder, letting my womb soak
up adulterous seed. Bob glanced frequently to the mess oozing
from my stuffed beaver, a mess I was now showing off to my
aggitated spouse.
The speaker said, "I think this would be a good time to take a break.
Take fifteen minutes."
Boss man lifted me free of his cock, then got up and left. I
pulled my dress into place as the grinning people filed past. Bob
waited until everyone left, then turned to me and said, "Jenny,
how could you?"
I looked to Bob and innocently said, "How could I what?"
"That was shameless, vulgar. You looked like a slut and acted
like a bitch in heat."
I remained unaffected by these inflamatory words. I smoothed my
skirt and said, "Sorry. Who was that man, anyway?"
He said. "My boss, the owner."
"Well, then I guess I made a good impression. Why are you upset?"
Bob just stared with his mouth open. I prompted a response by
saying, "Well, didn't I?"
"You did, but couldn't you have been more descrete?"
"I could have, but I might not have impressed him if I had. He
obviously likes to show off."
"He does. You could at least put your panties back on."
"He might come back."
"At least, put them away."
"He might not approve. If he returns, I'll ask him if I can put
them in my purse. Will that do?"
"Suit yourself. You obviously enjoy being slutty. I wouldn't want
to spoil your fun."
"That's good, because I'm going to be fucking your boss whenever
he snaps his fingers."
"I gathered that, and so did everyone else. I understand he does
a great deal of snapping when he gets himself a new whore."
"Well, he has a new one with a keen ear for snapping fingers."
"Damn! I'd better get a fucking raise out of this."
"I'll see what I can do."
The End
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