There is a secretary at work that is somewhat of a ‘shared girl’, meaning that her secretarial services are split, or shared, between a couple of offices at my end of the building. She is probably almost 10 or 15 years older than me, making her to be about in her mid to late 50’s. Her name is Amy. Amy takes very good care of herself. She is always eating right, at least at work, and drinking water. She always talks about going to the gym before work at some insane hour like 4:30 or something of that nature. A time of day when any less fanatical person would be sawing logs, not putting in miles on an elliptical machine. Whatever her workout regimen was, it worked. She was smokin’. Amy always dressed conservatively, but the very well endowed features of her womanly physique shown through anyway. In fact, I am not so sure that she didn’t subtly dress in a way as to hint to the treasures she was allegedly covering with her clothing. Her hair was a faded type of brunette with a hint of silver poking through. Just enough to hint at her age and the fact that although she could be someone’s mother, she was definitely not a grandmother. Her full, buxom breasts always filled out whatever top she was wearing and they always seemed just a little too tightly confined in that lucky garment whose material was pulling just enough on the buttons. It was almost as if she was making a subtle show of them… Her legs were well toned and muscular enough to say she worked out; however, not so much as to scream Mrs. Olympia. She frequently wore skirts that were above the knee and wrapped her very nice legs in stockings. However, beneath her skirts, slacks, or whatever else she wore, was the feature that brought it all together. Her heart shaped ass. The kind of ass that firmly jiggled as she stepped down. the kind of jiggle that comes from well toned muscle. An erotic and sensual lure to just about any man that draws breath and stands upright. Not that Jell-O like wave that comes from too many desserts while watching TV and not enough activity. Finally, but definitely not lastly, was her face. Perfectly clear complexion, rosy hue and always alive with activity. Amy was a very pretty woman and all the pieces fit together very nicely. Completely and tightly like a well drafted and constructed project, Amy was very attractive for any age. Amy and I got to know each other very well over the years that she worked between the four offices in my area. We spent time chit-chatting at the copier and had split more than a few lunches at our desks while trying to complete some last minute projects. We talked enough that I knew her husband was a drunkard and showed very little physical interest in Amy and she knew that my wife and I kept our eyes open and our ‘heads up’ for anything coming down field. She also knew that we kept no secrets from each other and that we communicated openly about everything that we did. Her life was a complete contrast. Amy told me repeatedly how closed minded and self centered her husband was. She always had such grand plans during the week. She would talk about things she wanted to do, experiences she wanted to have, a place she wanted to go for dinner. Her banter grew more excited, more urgent as the weekend approached and Friday afternoon came. I would wish her luck, but I always knew what the result would be. Inevitably she came back to work on Monday, crestfallen. Sometimes the tell tale tracks of tears cut across her firm cheeks. Her plans dashed by her husband’s drinking, or some manufactured excuse for him to slip away from her. On those blue Mondays she always needed a shoulder to cry on. I was happy to oblige. You see, usually secretaries have their inner circle of people that they can confide in and usually they are other secretaries. People who can understand their lingo and experiences. It helps you get through the day. For Amy that circle did not exist. Partly because she was not in the main secretarial pool and assigned to specific offices so they looked at her as outside of their clique. Mostly, I believe, because even though she was their elder by a few years she did not give in to ‘secretary spread’ or any of the other diseases of complacency or aging that plagued her counterparts. She stood out. She was pretty, attractive, desirable and above all she was smart. That is why I found her interesting. More than once I had cut and spliced a mental pornography together featuring Amy in some contrived office scenario. The plots were admittedly thin, but, then again, how thick does the plot have to be? The little movies always got me hard and I took care of business. That was what was supposed to happen, right? Everything was humming along fine at work. My little movies were entertaining me and I was able to function as a human being. Until the day came that Amy showed up with the little red mark on her cheek. She had tried to conceal it and, in the end, that is what probably drew my attention to it. Maybe she used a little too much concealer on purpose. Maybe she let her eyes well up on purpose, maybe not. Whatever the reason, she caught my attention that Monday. I called her into my office on the pretense of taking some dictation (oh, the irony..). I had her sit down, her notebook in hand, her legs crossed very daintily as she sat in the chair before my desk. Her skirt and customary hosiery were perfect, maybe the skirt was even a little shorter than usual… Her white satin blouse had a slightly plunging neckline that revealed just the faintest hint of her plentiful cleavage. It was just enough to be seductive; to whisper sexy and not cross over the line and scream ‘whore’. The little choker style necklace she was wearing just added to the hint of the passions that burned beneath her clothes. Camouflaged but not completely hidden. A trick in the seductive arts that an experienced woman knows how to play. I told her that I had brought her in to talk to her privately, that I had noticed the little mouse swelling and redness on her cheek. I asked if everything was ok? The floodgates opened. She placed her face into her palms. Her silent sobbing just barely audible with the air conditioner fan humming away in the corner. The tick of the clock on the wall seemed interminable as she cried. What had I done? Amy was crying in my office. She sobbed silently. Her chest heaving, shoulders scrunched forward. If she could have reduced herself into a ball of lint and rolled under my desk I have no doubt she would have done so. I wanted to help her. I wanted to find out what was bothering her and help. Instead, I felt like a heel. I hadn’t been the one to strike her, but I was the one that made her cry. I did the only thing I could think to do. The natural thing that way down deep inside instinctually tells a man what he must do when he sees a woman crying and in pain. Perhaps it was what she was baiting me toward after all. I knelt beside her and placed my hands on her forearm. I comforted her, stroked her hair and told her that everything was going to be ok. She hiccupped a few more sobs and then dropped her hands. Her eyes crested over the tips of her fingers like the moonrise over snowcapped mountains. The eyeliner and mascara trailing faintly down her cheeks. Carried in the rivulets of her tears. More tears, waiting to breach over her eyelids and join their sisters working their way down her face to her neck, sat ready to go. At that moment, that precise moment, in her vulnerability I saw her at her most feminine. I saw her at her most beautiful. I could feel the stirring in my loins. Something about her vulnerability was sexually exciting to me. I took her hand and began to tell her everything was ok. I stroked the side of her face, wiping away her tears using my index finger like an impromptu squeegee. I cleared her short cut hair from her face and she cupped my hand in hers. I saw the look that set it all in motion. The look and the posturing of her head and neck that sent out the signal. The signal like the landing lights put on for the pilot flying in at twilight, guiding him in to home. The look that said ‘kiss me’. Before I could think about it I leaned in toward her lips. She accepted me as I lightly landed my lips on hers. She opened her mouth and I felt her tongue prodding inquisitively at my own lips. I parted them and our tongues met, swirling around each other as I held the back of her head in my hand and she placed her hand on the side of my face. Her kisses tasted like strawberry. Strawberry mingled with the saltiness of her tears. There was also the familiar hint of electricity you feel when that special connection is made. The connection that tells you all things are possible, if you dare to proceed. I dared and she lead me. Our kiss lingered several moments. Each of us taking the time to thoroughly explore one another. I broke the kiss and stood up, taking her hand in mine. We kissed again, this time wrapping our arms around each other and drawing ourselves closer. At that moment I was very aware that my cock was growing. It was stirring and there was no hiding it or stopping it. I was also aware that the most obvious sign of my sexual arousal was pressing against her leg. She drew me closer. This time she broke the kiss and looked up at me, her 5′ 1″ frame considerably below mine. “It seems as though you are excited. Does my misfortune excite you?” She looked me straight in the eye as her hand twirled around on my chest, playing seductively with my tie. In that moment I knew that I had misread her all these years. Sure I had seen the confidence in her walk and the way she spoke, but I had always believed that she was proper. That she was classy, that there was no way she could be a temptress. I was about to learn how wrong I was about her. My wife is a very seductive woman. The kind that emits a sexual energy that draws you in, makes you want to be possessed by her. Very dominant and in control, her sexuality is overt and commanding. Amy was the flip side of the same coin. She oozed sexuality with her very feminine frame and mannerisms, but, unlike my wife, she was not the type of dominant personality that you wanted to take you. Amy had a submissive vibe that was alluring, a vibe that she obviously knew how to play. A vibe and an attraction that played the other side of the feminine seductress role. The kind that appeared vulnerable, luring you in. The kind that screamed out ‘take me’, making you feel like you were chasing her down like a cheetah on the Serengeti. All the while she was the one actually stalking you from the shadows, waiting to pounce while you were distracted by the lures she had put forth, shimmering to attract you. She knew how to play her cards well. She parted the top of her blouse slightly and drew my head forward to her bosom. As her top opened up I could see that she was wearing some style of support bra that held her breasts up and out while leaving her nipples uncovered. Her breasts were magnificent. Easily a firm and well cared for D cup. Her nipples and areoles were large and inviting, daring me to suck them. She kept bringing my head forward and I opened my mouth taking one of her large, inch long nipples into my mouth. I began sucking as I fondled the other breast with one hand. I grabbed her ass with my free hand and pulled her closer to me. She responded by grinding her hips into me, focusing her gyrations on my cock. She began moaning, “Oh, yes. Suck my tit. It has been so long, no one sucks my tits anymore.” She continued talking, “My husband never sucks my tits.” I was more than happy to do that for him. She cooed into my ear, sucking on it and sticking her tongue in it between her words, “I can feel your hard cock on my leg. Do you want to stick it in me? Do you want to fuck me? well, do you?” I did not voice an answer to her question. I let her tit fall from my mouth, still moist with my saliva. Her nipple distended even more from the force of the suction I had been applying. I spun her around, bent her forward at the waist. She instinctively placed her chest across my desk, assuming the perfect doggy style pose. She looked back at me and began to sway her ass back and forth, taunting me. Inviting me. Challenging me. My instincts to breed her, pushed on by her seduction, took over. I was on auto-pilot now. I raised her skirt slowly, rolling it up over her ass, gathering it up in a heap on the small of her back. I could see then that she was wearing a thong. A garter held up her stockings. Right in the center of my gaze was the sweet peach of her vagina. Her excitement evident from the soaking stain and the aroma of her musk. She spoke, softly and pleadingly, “Do you like what you see? Do you want what you see?” “It has been so long since anyone has fucked me… My husband drinks too much to bother with fucking anymore. Will you fuck me and make me cum? Please?” The tone of her voice and the sexual pleading in her doe eyes were killing me. The questions seemed all that much more naughty, sordid, with her bent over my desk looking back over her shoulder at me. Her eyes were burning with temptation, her ample tits pressed against my desk blotter. Her legs spread oh so slightly and her ass high and waving at me. All of it was too much for me to even pretend at being able to resist. I drew aside her panties to reveal a neatly trimmed bush, not shaved, but well taken care of. The lips of her pussy were swollen, opening like a new flower before the sun, the dew of her excitement gathering on the petals of her lips. I traced the edge of her pussy with my finger, a ghostly light touch, just enough for her to feel my presence at her threshold. “Oh, my god… That feels so nice! Play with my pussy, no one does anymore but me.” She hisses through her teeth, her breath slowly sucking in as she savors the long absent touch of a man on her engorged slit. I knelt at the altar of her sex, a pilgrim paying homage. I could feel the heat and smell the musk of her pussy as it was readying itself for mating. It was intoxicating. I blew lightly, stirring her pubes and raising slight goose bumps on her flesh as I continued to trace the outline of her lips with my finger. I kissed her softly. First on the cheeks of her ass, then at the shelf where her legs gave birth to her ass. I continued kissing along her inner thigh to the moist, warm target between her legs. I lightly kissed around her soaking pussy, tasting the her sweet juices for the first time. I sucked on the lips as my tongue dives deep, exploring new territory. Her juices flowing at an alarming rate, soaking my chin, lips and cheeks. All I can smell is her pungent aroma as I begin working in earnest on her clitoris. I lavish attention on the long abandoned center of her excitement. She reacts immediately to my ministrations. She begins to moan so loudly I am afraid someone might come knocking on my office door! She is also obviously aware of her lustful wails as she sticks her mouth in the crook of her elbow and lets forth a muffled scream, her face twisted with pleasure. Her body convulses on top of my desk, my day planner and assorted pens and pencils fall, scattering across the floor. Her legs stiffen as she arches her back and raises her head as if she is trying to howl like a wolf, but no noise escapes. Her body is all but frozen as her orgasm really takes hold, just some slight twitching of her muscles as I continue eating her pussy and sucking on her clitoris. “Wow! No one has ever done that to me before! I mean, my husband tried a few times when we first met, but…” She sounded crestfallen admitting that her husband could not please her, her voice trailing off to nowhere. “This isn’t about him, this is about us.” I tried my best to not sound judgmental as I marveled worked on her pussy. I released her clitoris and looked at her pussy as I insert first one finger, then another. Her vaginal entrance is very tight and resists the foreign digits. I feel her muscles relax slightly and my fingers ‘pop’ in. The suction of her underused organ is unbelievable, almost as if she was a woman in her late teens, unfamiliar with man-cock penetrating her. I work my fingers around, trying to stretch her a little to prepare her for my girth. “My God, Amy, your pussy is so fucking tight!” “I told you it has been a long time. I don’t even finger myself much anymore, I don’t want to get myself all worked up and not have anyone to help me out. Fingers can only satisfy so much for so long, you know.” She looked at me. Her look seemed to be a mix of regret and desire. “You know, if you are not comfortable with this we can stop…” I gave her an out as I stood up behind her. She rose from the desk and kneeled before me without uttering another word. She caressed my cock through my pants. She moved closer and began tracing the outline of my cock with her lips. I wondered whether she would leave any lipstick on my slacks. That might be tough to explain. Amy had a little bit of rust on her moves. I could tell that at one time she was very gifted, but she had fallen out of practice through no fault of her own. She was a little out of practice, but she was quickly getting her groove back. She drew down the fly of my pants with her teeth and then sat back as if contemplating her next move. She fished my hardened cock out from my boxers and regarded it. My cock was not the biggest in the room, only about 7 inches, but it was very thick. Thick and capped with a wide, blunt mushroom head. My cock would swell and seal the pussy of my lovers so well that my juices remained inside them until I withdrew. Nothing leaked out around the sides like those thinner cocks. Amy marveled at the girthy snake before her. She licked the head tentatively at first. One quick lick. Then she looked up at me. “I hope you don’t mind but it has been a while since I’ve done this. Probably about twenty years!” She giggled nervously, then lowered her head onto my cockhead. She had a little difficulty with the width at first, but soon enough she was rendering a world class blowjob unto my cock that would make any man happy. She was a fantastic cocksucker. She blew me for a few minutes; alternately working on the head, taking the whole organ into her mouth and sometimes just licking around the head, shaft and my swelling balls. Her soft mouth felt wonderful and I truly lack the words to describe how great she was. She stopped sucking my cock and stepped out of her underwear as she returned to her position draped over my desk. She rolled her skirt up over her ass and simply looked at me. The soft look of her eyes giving me all the permission I needed. She looked wonderful. My cock needed relief. I needed to be in her. I was going to fuck her and I was going to cum inside of her. I positioned myself behind her and began sliding my cock up and down along her eager slit. The lips of her pussy wrapping around the mushroom head of my cock, coating me with her juices. I continued to work the doorway to her center, teasing her with my size. She looked back at me, took hold of the edge of the desk and ordered me, “Put your cock inside me!” I began pushing forward slowly entering her. I could feel the seldom used muscles of her vagina stretching to accommodate me, gripping me as tightly as if her own hand was down there squeezing my shaft tightly. The heat of her pussy was immense, volcanic and, yet, softer than imaginable. She rolled her hips up to meet me, opening herself up even more to allow me in as far as possible. I reached bottom, the head of my cock rubbing against her cervix. The taught grip of her pussy, the warm moist heat and the heavenly smoothness made me want to just ram myself in and out of her. I wanted to fuck her so hard she would be screaming. I wanted to show her how good fucking could be, what she had been missing. What she had been needing and longing for. I knew I couldn’t fuck her with reckless abandon. Not here. Not this time. So I decided to take her on a slow, grinding, forceful journey back to a familiar land. Or, in her case, to a strange new land driven by my wide cock plunging steadily into her, pushing her to another orgasm. I took hold of her hips and began to work myself in a circular motion, keeping my cock as deep in her as possible. I kept the pressure forward, my hips trying to drive through her as I rolled my cock around inside of her like I was some sort of deviant churning butter. The pressure of my wide cock in her practically virgin canal was intense. I would semi-withdraw from her and I could see the lips of her pussy clinging to my cock, following it as if begging it not to go. I would force my cock forward again, banging into her cervix, resuming the constant forward pressure. She widened her legs more, rolled her head around on my desk and bit her lower lip. She was constantly moaning, groaning a low growl of pleasure as I fucked the shit out of her. Her knuckles were white from the grip she was putting onto my desk. I withdrew a little again and slammed forward as hard as I dared while also trying to be as quiet as possible. Her ass jiggled. I gave her a light slap on the ass. I asked her, “Whose pussy is this now?” She didn’t answer at first, just continued her low sex- growl as her orgasm approached. Her body starting to stiffen, her head raising off the desk, her back arching. The silent wolf was returning. I gave her one good, hard slap on the ass. The clap of my hand striking her ass was unmistakable. “Whose fucking pussy is this now??” I asked as loud as I dared. I could hear people outside the office door on their way to lunch, no doubt. Well, go ahead mother-fuckers, I am getting laid right here. Go eat your fucking tuna salad. “Y-Yours!” She moan-sighed as she came. Her pussy clamping down on my cock. She stiffened her whole body… Do you have any idea how hard it was trying to fuck against her well toned muscles? Her body was locked into a state of pleasure. I kept forcing myself forward into her, churning my cock around inside of her, winding her up. I continued fucking her as she came down from her peak. The seed in my balls boiling forward and up into my cock. I could feel the head swelling against her love tunnel, the shaft expanding to provide a rocket groove for my cum as it would soon be launching forth in ropy strands into her belly. She sensed my impending release. “Cum inside me, please?.” That did it. I had never really had any one ask me like that before, in THAT tone. I would not disappoint her. It was AWESOME. I could feel every seed, every sperm cell, as they spilled forth into her womb. I came and came and came. Her extra tight newly fucked pussy milking every drop from my balls. I swear she must have worked every ounce of my essence up the shaft of my throbbing cock and into her under seeded womb. It was as if her pussy was sating its desire and thirst for the nectar it had been missing. After I had delivered my cum into her my cock would not fall out. She was still so tight and my head so swollen it was as if we were locked together. I pulled back and drew myself out. An audible ‘pop’ echoed in my office as my cock escaped the suction of her pussy. A torrent of our mingled juices followed, running down her thighs toward her shoes. She quickly took some Kleenex from the desk, wiped the juices off her thigh and pulled up her panties. She then took my cock in her mouth and cleaned me thoroughly. My member began to harden again. “Oh my! Again?! Really? My husband never…” She laughed and stroked my cock as she looked at me. I tucked myself back in, “Maybe we will save that for later.” She turned to leave my office, stopped and turned, “Lunch? Tomorrow? A friend of mine has a place down the street…”