Andy cupped her ass.
Anna folded her arms around his neck.
Looking into each other's eyes, they began to fuck with a slow, steady, grinding rhythm.
Her cunt sucked on him, pulling and stroking as the interior muscles came into play.
His mighty dong surged into the depths of her belly, so huge and tight fitting that she thought he must be rearranging her internal organs. It was so fat that she thought he might disjoint her hipbones, and so long that she would not have been surprised – nor displeased – to find the huge cockhead coming out of her mouth from her gullet.
They began to fuck faster.
They were so well fitted and his huge cock was so perfectly suited to her large cunt that, although the kneeling position was a bit awkward, they were fucking fluidly and easily as they worked towards the mutual delights of climax.
Her ass rolled from side to side. Her thighs lifted, then lowered. Andy poured the pork into her with short, sharp thrusts that ran across her clit as they plowed up into the depths of her womb.
She began to sob with unbridled lust, then to cry out aloud with unrestrained and abandoned sensation.
Growling savagely, Andy shot his wad up into her cunt as it pushed down and the moment she felt his hot jism gush into her, like a catalyst, her pussy began to melt. Her creamy cunt juice blended with his steaming spunk. The mingled oils poured down her thighs and soaked his bloated balls.
Time was suspended.
Their simultaneous orgasm seemed to last forever.
Then, at last, they were drained. They clung together, dazed and dazzled by their release.
The floor beneath then was soaking with cunt juice and jism. It was slippery. Anna smiled contentedly.
Andy will have to mop that up, she thought.
He was, after all, a janitor.
CHAPTER FIVE
Reginald Harris was nibbling on her ear and blowing his hot breath into the little shell and squeezing her fat tits, and Jayne was getting distinctly uncomfortable.
She was embarrassed, for one thing. There were other people in the room and it was not really proper to get felt up in public.
But what was really making her feel so uncomfortable was the fact that she was enjoying it!
She hated to admit it, but it was true.
Harris was turning her on.
She was a little tipsy, she thought. That was the reason for it. Sober, she would certainly not have started to enjoy his sordid groping. But although it was a reason, it was hardly an excuse. She felt rather cheap.
But other couples were starting to grope and pant together. She was not alone in this.
No wonder the Benson Company office party was so eagerly awaited by the employees!
And what could she do? Harris was her boss – she didn't want to make him angry. And everyone was fooling around – she didn't want to be thought a prude.
As long as he didn't try to go any further…
That was the thing. A little harmless petting, a bit of playful groping – well, they were all sophisticated people. Those things were not out of line. It wasn't as if she were committing an act of infidelity, far from it. And it did feel good. It was nice physically, having this handsome man attend to her, and it was psychologically satisfying to know that she had turned him on to such an extent.
But she was afraid he might attempt to go further… and she wondered just how far she should go.
If he tried to take her into a dark office, should she go? She had no intention of fucking him, certainly – but if he wanted to feel her up in private, was that so wicked? Why, it wasn't really any worse than having him feel her up in public, not at all… it was more modest, if anything.
But would he be willing to settle for a simple feel if he got her alone?
How far could she safely let him go? There was a fine line between fooling around and actually doing something naughty – and also a fine line between angering hint and pleasing him – and she was not sure where she should draw that line. Should she let him put his hand inside her dress and feel her bare titty? Should she let him have a quick feel of pussy… or even let him go so far as to finger fuck her? It was difficult to decide. She was confused both by the morality of it, and by deciding how to make Harris happy without going any further than she had to. The more she let him do, the more excited he was going to get, that much was obvious. And if he got really horny – should she maybe give him a handjob?
That was certainly the most she would do, if that.
But her cunt was steaming now.
Jayne was frightened by her own passion.
She knew it would be better if she could terminate this little game right away.
Perhaps if she left him alone for a moment, he would lose interest without getting angry. He might start fooling around with some other woman.
She considered telling him that she had to go to the bathroom. But then she thought he might follow her in and it would be embarrassing to have to fend him off while she was sitting on the toilet seat, pretending to pee.
She had a better idea.
"What's the time?" she asked.
He told her.
"Oh! I have to phone my husband now," she said. "I promised him that I would. I'll be right back…"
Harris looked annoyed.
Thinking cleverly, she said, "I'm sorry, but if I don't phone him, he might decide to come to the office looking for me, and we wouldn't want that, would we?"
She managed to smile suggestively.
Harris nodded, agreeing that was not a situation that they would want.
"Use the phone in my office," he said.
Well, she had thought of using a phone somewhere more public, but how could she refuse that suggestion?
"I'll be right beck," she told him.
She walked away.
Harris watched her succulent ass shift around inside her clinging dress and smiled with happy expectations.
Jayne went into his private office and closed the door behind her. She took a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief at having escaped his immediate attentions. She went over to the desk but did not use the telephone right away. She was certainly in no hurry to return to the party – if she was away for awhile, Harris would probably start chatting up some other women. Nor did she know if it would be such a good idea to phone home.
She had not told Jonathon that she would and he might wonder why she had, might think she was feeling guilty, perhaps, or that she was drunker than she should be.
She perched on the edge of the desk.
The room was faintly illuminated from the window, the street light outside throwing soft light and shadow. Jayne grinned a bit ruefully as, shifting her ass on the edge of the desk, she became aware of how juicy her pussy had become. She didn't feel guilty about that, however. That was only natural when a girl, no matter how pure and chaste she was, received the devoted attention of a handsome man – especially when she had had quite a few drinks to begin with.
She figured she would wait there long enough for her cunt to cool off.
Then the door opened.
Reginald Harris walked in, grinning.
He closed the door behind him.
Oh-oh! she thought.
Realizing that she had not picked up the phone, and not wanting him to get suspicious, she said, "The line was busy. I'll try again in a few minutes… then I'll be right out."
"Why hurry?" he said.
He crossed the room and stood before her. He put his hand on her tit and her stiff nipple branded his palm as he squeezed.
"I'd better try again…" she said, reaching for the telephone.
"What's the hurry?" Harris whispered. His other hand touched bet thigh. She was perched on the edge of the desk and her skirt had ridden up her thighs. He began to caress the inside of her knee, then moved higher. His fingers touched the naked flesh above the top of her stocking. She took a deep breath. She didn't know if she should grab his wrist and pull his hand away and, if she did, whether she should do it teasingly or angrily. The situation was foreign to the girl. She was confused.