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“Nikki, can you type this up for me please?” Sandra asked as she approached my desk. I nearly hit the roof. My hands automatically did the alt-tab thing that you learn so fast when you do things at work on your PC that would be frowned upon if someone happened to see the screen.
“Er, sure Sandra,” I stammered.
“Are you okay?” she asked me.
“Oh yes,” I laughed, “I was just absorbed in what I was doing and didn’t notice you coming. You scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry about that,” she smiled. I loved that smile. I would do nearly anything to get her to smile at me like that. She passed me the letter she’d handwritten and I took it from her, wishing there was a way I could make our hands touch, but it would have been way too obvious, so I simply accepted the pages and stuck them on the copy holder next to my monitor.
I was always surprised that she handwrote stuff and got me to type it. Most people these days do their own typing, apart from a couple of the older guys who are just way too inefficient on a keyboard to even contemplate it. One of the younger guys tried it early on, but I think he just liked to come and talk to me. I didn’t mind that, but suggested that by the time he’d stood there talking to me, he probably could have typed it himself. I did tell him that I’d type anything over 5 pages for him, and I do.
When I asked Sandra about it (and I let her get away with it a lot longer before asking than I did anyone else) she told me that she felt that she thought better when she was writing with a pen and that she liked the results better. I let it go because it meant that she’d come to see me occasionally, and I liked that.
“How soon do you need it?” I asked her.
“By lunchtime?” she asked, her look somewhat apologetic. Lunch was, after all only half an hour away.
“Only because you asked nicely,” I joked. There was only a couple of minutes typing there for me and there was nothing urgent hanging over my head at the moment, so it wouldn’t be a big drama.
“Thanks, you’re too good to me,” she said, smiling again and turning to return to her office. I watched her walk away, her butt wiggling beautifully in a pair of tight, tailored pants. Sandra was older and as the receptionist/typist she was just one of the many people I did work for. She was also one of very few people that I’d seen at this place who got me stirred in a sexual sense. Almost every time she smiled at me, I turned to goo. I was only 19 and fairly new at the company. I’d had a couple of jobs since I left school, but this was the first one where I’d really felt at home.
Sandra was a goddess. She was 5’10” tall and didn’t appear to have an ounce of fat on her body. I knew for a fact that she worked out every day at the gym and her body certainly reflected the fact nicely. She wasn’t skinny, she was curvy, an Elle McPherson-like shape and in my mind could easily have made her way as a model. She had gorgeous auburn hair that spilled a couple of inches past her shoulders, and breasts that if I had to guess would have been in the c-cup range. Her eyes were a deep and mysterious brown that tended towards a smoky grey when she was excited, and then of course there was her smile. God I love that smile.
I on the other hand am a skinny little thing. I am only 5’6″ tall. My hair is brown and I have green eyes. And I wish that I had breasts. Well, I do have breasts, but I fit nicely into an A-cup. I haven’t ever wanted huge breasts mind you, but it would be nice to be a large B so that I could pull off a cleavage revealing dress now and then. Anyway, that’s not likely to happen without surgery and I’m not going there, so I make do.
I’d never had a thing for an older woman before, but from the first moment that I’d met Sandra, I’d wanted her. At 30, she was gorgeous. She was definitely a woman, not a girl. I didn’t tell her of course. Hell, I was way to new at this job and didn’t need those sorts of complications. Besides, there was nothing to indicate to me that she’d even be interested anyway.
I typed out the letter for her and emailed it to her to proofread. She replied that it was ok and asked me to print it out on letterhead for her to sign. I did so gladly and took it into her office.
“Thanks Nikki, you’re fab. I tell you what, this must be the tenth time that I’ve asked for something at the last minute, come out and I’ll buy you a sub to say thanks.”
I wanted to jump at the chance, to tell her I’d love to, but I just didn’t want to appear too eager. And besides, it was part of my job. And so that’s what I said, “Its ok, Sandra, I didn’t have anything more urgent to do and I don’t mind. You don’t have to buy me lunch.”
“Ok, I don’t have to, but I’d like to anyway. It’ll ease my guilty conscience?”
“Well, ok then, I won’t say no twice,” I laughed. She grabbed her bag and indicated that we should go right now. I told the admin manager that I was going on lunch and she indicated that antalya escort she’d cover for me. I picked up my purse and went out to the car park with Sandra. We hopped into her car and drove to the shopping centre to get a sandwich. We traveled most of the way in silence. I couldn’t believe how nervous I was. All I wanted to do was touch her and it paralysed me big time.
As we ate lunch, I managed to return to a more normal state and actually managed to have more of a conversation. She was telling me about the gym that she went to each day and I indicated that other than playing a bit of indoor netball, I really didn’t do much to look after myself.
“You should come to the gym with me,” she said. “Oh I don’t know, it’s pretty expensive and I just don’t know if I want to,” I admitted.
“Well there’s a special offer on for people to try it at the moment and since you live near me, I’ll pick you up and make sure you get there,” she offered.
I told her that I’d think about it and she told me that there was plenty of cute guys to perve on, which didn’t have the affect that she’d hoped for. In fact it disappointed me as it confirmed somewhat what I’d expected. She was straight. Not that I hadn’t indulged in a bit of cock now and then, it was just that right now, she was the one thing on my horizon that really really turned me on.
We got back to the office and I thanked Sandra for lunch, using the opportunity to give her a quick hug. I was only wearing a thin blouse today and I loved the feel of her breasts against me in that very brief embrace. It took an amazing amount of will power to not let my hands slide down over her arse and pull her in for a proper hug, but somehow I managed.
Two days later, Sandra asked me if I’d considered the gym offer and I told her that yes, I had and I’d love to go along and see what it was like for awhile. She seemed pleased. I rationalised that even if she was perving on the guys there, at least I’d get to see her hot and sweaty in her nice little gym outfits (which, in the fantasy of my mind consisted of little more than a g-string and bra). She told me that given there was no time like the present, she’d take me down there at lunch to join up and show me around and then we could start first thing in the morning. I groaned at her enthusiasm and she just laughed at me, turning to go to her office.
The next morning, my doorbell rang at the ungodly hour of 5:50am. I all but crawled my way to the front door, dressed in baggy track pants, a t-shirt and a windcheater. Sandra was at the door looking way to cheerful for the time of day.
“Are people really alive at this hour?” I asked her as I closed the door to my unit and followed her out to her car.
“Some of us are, but in your case, I can’t be entirely sure,” she laughed. “Believe me, it does get easier.” I contented myself with closing my eyes as she drove us to the gym.
When we arrived at the gym, I followed her inside, trying hard not to perve on her butt as she walked in front of me. She was wearing a pair of 3/4 leggings that hugged her legs in all the right ways. I couldn’t quite see her butt though because she was wearing a windcheater.
Sandra took me through to the cardio room and we hopped on the treadmills, walking to warm up. It wasn’t long before Sandra kicked the speed up on hers and started to run. I kept walking on mine as I didn’t want to overdo it. Sandra had told me that we’d do a circuit after the warm up so I really didn’t need to destroy myself in the first 10 minutes!
I contented myself with watching the TV at the front of the room and glancing at Sandra when I thought that I could get away with it. As I looked in her direction, she pulled her wind cheater off to reveal a midriff sports top that made my mouth water. Her belly was clearly taught and trim and I would have loved nothing more than to have run my tongue all over it.
“‘Bout time you sped that thing up a bit,” she said to me, “No more slacking for you, I’m going to turn you into an Amazon warrior!” I nearly fell off the treadmill at that point in time.
“Um, perhaps I should let you know that I’m not entirely disappointed with being the skinny little runt that I am. No need for Amazons here,” I laughed at her. But I sped the treadmill up anyway. I didn’t want her to give up on me entirely.
Just when I thought I’d had enough, Sandra killed her treadmill and told me that it was time for the circuit. I followed her example and then followed her butt into the circuit room. God that butt got me worked up as it wiggled its way in front of me, especially because I could just pick out the outline of her G-string through the material.
We entered the circuit room and a few people said hello to Sandra (and a few of them all but visibly drooled too). Sandra introduced me to a couple of girls (nowhere near as hot as Sandra, but nice enough) and then the instructor took the floor and started the punishment (or alanya escort workout I guess most people would call it). I realised in the next 45 minutes just how fit I wasn’t. About the only solace I took in that time was in watching Sandra as she went through the workout. Her tits bounced nicely, her butt squeezed and in the end it was only the perving that got me through it.
At least once that was over, we headed off to the showers. This was something about the workout that I thought that I should be able to handle.
“So how are you feeling?” she asked me as we entered the showers.
“Like I’ve been dragged around the room by a great big dog,” I laughed.
“Don’t worry, it does get better. It takes awhile, but it does.” As she was telling me this, she peeled her 3/4 pants down her legs, revealing a black cotton g-string. She was still talking to me, but I completely missed what she said, because she started to pull her top off. Just when I thought I was about to get an eyeful of her breasts, she stepped into the shower cubicle, shutting the door behind her. I quickly stepped into my own cubicle and removed my clothes before showering.
Finished in the shower, I pulled on my bra and blouse and then slipped on my knickers and a short black skirt.
“Damn, don’t you look sexy. Who would have thought that all those baggy clothes out there hid this gorgeous little thing,” Sandra teased me.
“Well, we can’t all have the boys cumming in the middle of their workout, now can we?” I teased back. Sandra laughed at me and then led me out of there. She was wearing a nicely tailored suit today with a satin blouse beneath it. Her hair was pulled up away from her neck and as always she looked gorgeous. How I would have liked to kiss her neck.
“So, are you going to come again tomorrow?” she asked me.
“I tell you what, I’ll go every second day for a week and if I am still alive after that, I might go every day”
“Sounds like a fair plan to me,” Sandra said as we pulled into the carpark.
Six weeks after that day, I was attending the gym with Sandra everyday. We took it in turns at driving, which meant more working hours for me (she was, after all one of the engineers at work and if I wanted a ride I had to work to suit her) but less petrol money which helped me afford the gym membership. I lived for the hours that we’d spend together each day. Riding in the car was cool because it gave us a chance to chat and to gossip, but the best bit was the workout. Each day I watched Sandra’s body as it moved and shook its way through the fitness circuit and often, after I’d get to see her in her underwear and once, I even saw her magnificent breasts.
That morning I’d stood in the shower touching myself, my fingers exploring my pussy as I dreamed of being in the adjacent stall doing the same thing to Sandra.
“Are you a prune yet?” She had called out. I had to rush out that day, embarrassed about having forgotten exactly where I was and what I was doing. Such was the power she had over me. And she had no idea.
Because of the extra hours that Sandra worked, I had taken to doing other things after I knocked off for the day. Things like reading magazines and books, surfing the net and then one day, writing erotica. I’d stumbled upon this website at home and had been reading some of the stories. They really got me horny. I’d always enjoyed writing when I’d been at school and decided that maybe I’d try my hand at it, see if perhaps I could write something that people would like and get horny over. Finding time was the problem.
Then Sandra and I started sharing the ride to work and I found myself with this extra time at the end of the day and so I took advantage and used that time to write a story. It was well received and also gave me a chance to write about some kinky stuff that I wouldn’t do myself, but that I liked to read about (like having sex with my sister).
This one particular afternoon, I was at my PC waiting for Sandra and had just finished adding to my latest story about a girl seducing her sister when she came out, ready to go. She was a bit early and I hurriedly alt-tabbed as she approached my desk.
“Ready? I’ve had enough for today,” she said. I stammered that I was but that I needed to go to the bathroom. (Little did she know that my panties were slimy because I’d been sitting with the heel of my foot crushed in against myself, rocking back and forth as I wrote and got hotter and hotter.
“You look a little flushed, are you ok?” Sandra asked me. I let her know that I was fine and started to close all the pc windows and stuff to shut down the computer. Sandra told me that she’d do it for me, to hurry up and go to the loo so that we could get moving. When I came back, Sandra was only just closing things down and I wondered what she’d been up to. I didn’t ask though and the screen cut out as I arrived at the desk.
“Right?” I asked. alanya rus escort
“Mmmm,” she replied somewhat quietly. We drove home rather quietly compared to normal. I assumed that she just had work on her mind and let it go at that. But after some thinking, I decided that maybe she’d read my story before shutting my computer down. That freaked me out. What must she think if she’d been reading something I’d written about a couple of incestuous sisters? God she probably didn’t even know I liked chicks and I was writing about sisters! Oh well, there was nothing I could do about it, so I just waited to see how things would be tomorrow.
The next day, Sandra seemed fine and we went to the gym as always, enjoyed our workout and then moved on to work. I was relieved (though I had made something of an effort at the gym not to stare at her cute butt as much as I normally would have). Things were normal for some time after that and after a couple of weeks of not writing such things at work, or at least being very very careful not to leave things in a state where someone could read them, I slipped up again.
I was sitting in my chair, horny as buggery one afternoon and opened up my latest story (this time a fantasy about seducing Sandra) and started to write. It wasn’t long before my panties were damp from the images that I tried to capture from my mind and transform into arousing words on a page. I kept thinking about Sandra in a g-string, Sandra topless, Sandra naked and of course, Sandra under the attentions of my hands and tongue. I let my shoes slip from my feet and tucked my heel up so that it rubbed against my pussy as I rocked back and forth, typing.
Unfortunately, I was lost in my own little world and didn’t notice Sandra approaching me. She came up to my desk and dropped a letter on it, asking if I could type it for her. I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Sorry, Nikki, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said as I relaxed back in my chair, my heart racing.
“That’s ok, I was just lost in my own little wonderland,” I laughed.
“Well it must have been good, because you look as if you’re been having a nice little roll in the hay with some lad.”
“Oh, sometimes the a/c out here isn’t quite right,” I said, trying to think desperately of an excuse for my state of excitement. I lowered my leg, feeling the movement in my wet pussy, wishing that I could just tell her how I felt and drag her off somewhere to have sex. “Anyway, when did you need this letter?” I asked.
“By about 3, thanks. Don’t go losing yourself in that dream world now, we need you here.”
“Very funny, I’ll bring this in for you later.” I put the letter aside so that I could finish something else that I’d let slip whilst I was typing my story. Just before I was due for lunch, I started on Sandra’s letter. I hadn’t quite finished when it was lunch time and so saved the letter and took off. I asked Sandra if she was ready for lunch, but she told me that she was working through.
When I came back from lunch, I went into word and opened up the last file that had been opened on the recently used file list. I expected the letter to pop up, but instead it was my story. I thought that was weird and checked the list. Of course, the story was number one and the letter was now number two. I panicked a bit, but decided there was nothing to do but just keep working, and to hope that no one had actually been checking my PC whilst I was out at lunch and found the story.
Fortunately the day finished and I wasn’t accosted or threatened by anyone and I quickly forgot about it, the mind telling you what you want to believe, of course.
That Saturday night, Sandra asked me if I wanted to go out dancing with her. I said yes, of course, besides, I had no other plans.
Saturday night came around and I was struggling with what to wear. In the end I settled for a short black skirt with a red top and little black boots. And underwear of course! A hot little red g-string and matching bra that I had picked up just in case I wanted to spice things up one day.
I answered the door in response to Sandra’s knock and opened it, almost dripping with anticipation, curious as to what she might be wearing tonight. I wasn’t disappointed. She was wearing a pair of tight jeans that I knew would accentuate her perfect arse beautifully when I got to see her from behind and a blue top that clung to her marvelous breasts but left her stomach bare. She stepped into the flat and gave me a hug, telling me that I looked fantastic. I echoed her compliment, reveling in the hug and the crush of her breasts against me.
We had a drink and chatted whilst waiting for a cab and then took that into town to dance away at a night club.
We were a hit on the dance floor, I for one not caring about anyone else there. Sandra was eyeing one of the guys but claimed that there wasn’t really anyone there that took her fancy. We danced and bumped and ground and I took advantage of the close press of people to keep nicely in and around Sandra’s body. She didn’t seem to mind which simply made me push the limits a bit further each time, my hands touching hers, grabbing her hips, crushing my pelvis into her arse from behind with my hands on her tummy.
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