Thursday, July 15, 2004

Contributing to the delinquency of a (hot) minor

Everything has been going so well, for so long, that I had forgotten what an asshole I turn into when I can't get laid.

I was starting to lose my patience with people in the office. I never yell, but I do give nasty looks. Yesterday, Bonnie, one of our older receptionists, stuck her head in the door to tell me that we were doing a birthday cake in the conference room for one of our employees.

I wheel around in my chair and just glare at her, my brow furrowed, chewing my bottom lip.

"Ohhh, I'm very sorry Steve," she says, running away.

Lila has been in lockdown for weeks, and I am tired of sneaking around. I am not one to sit around lamenting my lot in life; when things go wrong, I devise a plan....

What if I "hire" Lila to clean my house, or my garage, or my frenulum (look it up), or whatever I want, for about 5-10 hours per week, and pay her $100 bucks a week or so for it?

It's perfect! Lila gets some extra cash (she already makes enough for a car payment, but if she is looking to move out, a little more would help), her mother would probably approve, knowing that she is in the mature and capable hands of her boss Steve (chortle, chortle) and that she is working, not socializing. And we wouldn't have to sneak around! Suddenly, there would be a perfectly acceptable explanation as to why I am driving Lila back and forth to her house.

[cue maniacal laughter]

I call Lila into my office and tell her about the idea.

"Oh YEAH! Of COURSE!!" She says. "This is PERFECT! But..."


"Do I really have to clean?"

"Lila. Come on! My house is friggin spotless! Maybe I'll have you fold my laundry or empty the dishwasher. The rest of the time, we can hang out!"

"And we don't have to sneak around," she says.




"Do you know how long it's been?" she asks.

"Since we've had sex?"

"Six days, 20 hours," she says.

"I'm going nuts too," I say.

She looks at the door, then back at me. Is she thinking what I think she is thinking?

I've always wanted to do it in my office. Always. I have a dead bolt on my office door, and the only one who would dare interrupt me if it were closed is Ross, and he is out of the office for the rest of the week...

I buzz Bonnie. "Bonnie, Lila and I will be on a conference call for the next half hour. Can you cover her desk?"

"Sure, Steve."

Lila gets up and closes the door, then turns the dead bolt. She is wearing a pink and white 3/4 sleeve blouse. She pulls it up over her head.

She is wearing a cream colored satin bra. There is something bizarre about seeing her in her underwear in my place of business. It's unusual, and fascinating, and totally fucking hot at the same time.

She steps out of her clogs, unhooks her denim skirt and slides it down her legs in that sexy way she has. She is wearing pink panties.

Hey, you didn't borrow those from a chick named Kelly by any chance, did ya?

She stops and looks at me, smirking.


"Are you getting undressed, or what??" She says.

Oh, shit!

I pull off my polo shirt (we have a business casual dress code) and unhook my belt. I take my pants off, gingerly and quietly. I hope my keys don't jingle too loudly, I think.

She sits in my lap on my high-back leather office chair. Her hair almost completely covers my face. The green-apple smell envelops me; it's intoxicating.

I can feel her skin, warm and smooth, against mine. She reaches back and grabs my hands in hers, stretching our arms out to either side.

Ok, what is this? Office sex aerobics?

I kiss her neck. She turns her head towards me and puts her lips against mine, slipping her tongue into my mouth.

I always envisioned sex in my office as a quickie. But, now that I am finally doing it, everything is happening with exquisite slowness, every detail amplified and magnified.

I open my eyes while Lila and I are kissing. Her eyes are closed, her long eyelashes resting against her cheeks. The angle of her nose, the tight, round slope of her chin, the slight hollowness of her cheeks: They are all flawless.

Why me? I think. What makes me so deserving of her? What does a girl like this want with me? I am almost twice her age! Yeah, I have confidence. I like myself. But she could have....anyone....



"Baby, is everything ok?" she asks.

"Lila, why do you say you love me so much?"

"Because I do!"


OK, am I turning into a girl? Again?

She turns around and faces me, one foot on the floor.

"Because, Steve, you amaze me! You are so smart, and so funny, and so confident. I love learning from you and hearing what you have to say. And you're always right! People look up to you! Even people older than you-"

I kiss her. "MMMMMMMMMMMMMM," she says.

"You're so sweet, baby," I say. I reach behind her back and unhook her, with one hand. Like I said, it's a rare skill. But here is how you do it:

Reach behind her back and slip your middle finger under the part where the two straps meet. Pull UP with your middle finger, so that the clasp is sticking straight out. Pinch one strap between your thumb and middle finger, and pull on the other strap with your index finger. It takes practice, but you'll get it. If you live with your wife or girlfriend, get ahold of one of her bras when she is not home, hook it around a chair, and practice.

She pulls her panties down. I can still see her, even now, bent over at the waist, her porcelain skin hugging every angle and curve of her body tightly and firmly.

She flips her hair over her right shoulder and straddles me, her knees on the seat cushion. I enter her.

I let out a sigh. It's a huge relief for me, actually being able to have sex again. It's THIS moment, THIS feeling, that explains why masturbation doesn't come close to the real thing.

I suck her nipple while she rides me. I lean back and watch her hips as she grinds them rhythmically against mine. She leans her head back; I feel her hair brush against my legs. She moans quietly.

Her hands are on the arm rests. She is pumping me more urgently, now.

"Ohhhhhhhh," she says. She stops fucking.

"Ohh, oh my godohmygodohmygoooooood," she whispers. I feel her clamp down on me, her body shuddering with orgasm.

I like watching Lila come. And usually, if she has come, it means I have not yet, so there's always an awkward 2-3 minute period after her orgasm where I'm trying to get off before she totally dries up and loses interest.

I shouldn't have worried. Lila reaches down and starts to rub me, with me still inside her. She knows just how I like it, slow and steady, not too hard. I grab her hand and stop it, near the base of my cock. I squeeze her fingers a bit.

The contractions start from inside me. Suddenly, I am gushing into her, filling her full of jizz.

Lila is kissing my neck. "Baby, that was soooo good...I [kiss] love you [kiss]..." Now she is kissing my chest, softly and gently, the way you kiss a new baby. "[kiss] love you so much [kiss]..." Her pouty lips are forming a big letter "O". She is bending over to kiss my chest. I pull her to me and kiss her. Her lips engulf my mouth, her tongue is licking me; the smacking sounds are driving me insane.

I am hard again.

Lila turns around. Her round, firm ass is against my throbbing cock. She rubs it, up and down, against me. I HAVE to fuck her again.

I open my desk drawer. Shit, do I have lube in the office? I don't think so. Maybe I'll find something.

Altoids. Cough drops. business cards. Office keys. Sugar packets.

Fuck. FUCK! Come ON, man!!

AHA!! Vaseline lip therapy! Not ideal. But close enough.

The tube is half full. "Lip therapy" is the same as regular Vaseline; only the packaging is different. I squeeze a glob of it on the head of my cock. Then more on the index and middle fingers on my right hand. The tube is almost empty.

I rub the Vaseline around her tight little asshole. It is spotlessly clean: You'd never guess shit comes out of there!

I press the head against her ass, slowly. I push it with my fingers, just a bit, and hold it there. I can feel her hole opening.

It takes a while, but now my head is inside her. I work it, slowly, gently, in and out, until suddenly I am almost all the way in her. She sits up straight and starts to ride me. She inhales sharply through her teeth.

I reach around and find her clit and touch it, press my fingers against it, then hold it in place.

I grab Lila's hips and hold them with my other hand. I am all the way inside her. I reach up and grab her tit. Now I am exploding in her again, grunting and moaning with ecstasy.

Just curious: Do I still have to give Lila a coffee break today? Maybe I should check with HR...

I pull out of her; she leans back against me, our faces side by side. She sighs. I kiss her. "I just wanna fall asleep in your arms," she says.

Luckily, I have paper towels in my office. There was, um, a LOT to clean up. But we did, and got dressed faster than I thought possible.

I keep thinking back to when I asked her why she says she loves me. Why did I need to know that? Why is it on my mind? Am I just curious? Or am I really falling for her?