Take a Letter…

Dear Avid Reader…

Been a little while and for that I apologise. I can blame numerous things but a lot is down to my mind. Or lack of control of it as I have so many ideas vying for attention. Well, anyway here is one that managed to wriggle its way out of my synapses. As ever I hope you enjoy and don’t mind the obvious cliche, after all what would a cliche be if it wasn’t overly used!!!

FtF

_____________________

“Would you come in here for a second Mrs Jones?”

Mrs Jones depressed the answer button on the intercom and replied “Certainly Mr Smith.” She saved the file she was working on and pushed her chair back before rising and entering her boss’s office.

Mr Smith was flicking through his address book as the older woman entered the corner office with a notebook in hand in case he wanted to issue numerous instructions to his assistant of the past two years. “Mrs Jones… would you please transcribe these couple of letters, I’m sorry but they will probably take you past ‘knocking-off’ time if that’s okay.” He indicated the small Dictaphone to his right.

“Not a problem, Mr Smith” she replied with a smile. Even though her boss was some twenty years her junior he was always polite, more in keeping with her own generation and never made the assumption that she didn’t have a home life of her own unlike some of her previous employers. Both of her children were away at university and her husband was quite capable of feeding himself and they didn’t have any plans for the Friday night. “I’ll get right on them and have the hard copies on your desk as soon as I’ve finished them for your once over.” She picked up the Dictaphone and the memory chip lying beside it.

Mr Smith looked up at is assistant with an small grin on his face, “The day that you make an error rather than improve my diction will be a long time in coming Mrs Jones!”

She felt herself blush and quickly turned away exiting the office. Occasionally when Mr Smith smiled at her she almost felt like a schoolgirl and tonight was one of those times. Her blush deepened as she sat down at her desk and searched her drawer for the earphones that fitted into the Dictaphone. He was quite cute she thought to herself and then admonished herself for the fact that he was only four years older than her eldest son. “As if…” she whispered.

She opened a fresh document on her computer and went to insert the memory chip into the small device only to find one already in there. She looked at the spare chip with the letters ‘T J’ written across the maker’s label. “T, J… Tracey Jones?” she grinned at the coincidence. She pressed the play button and began typing a letter to Mr Tennant of Halifax.

****

There had been two letters on the chip within the machine and had taken her right up to the work days’ end. All about her were shutting down their own computers and collecting their personal belongings ready for the journeys home. She ejected the first chip and slotted in the second one before pressing the play button.

She began typing-

Dear Mrs Jones

How many times have I thought of sending-

She looked at the words on the screen, her fingertips paused above the keyboard as Mr Smith’s soft voice continued to speak into her ears through the headphones. “No…” she muttered to herself and reached for the device and rewound the audio file.

“Dear Mrs Jones… How many times have I thought of sending this to you… I think this must be the tenth or eleventh time I’ve recorded a letter for you. Of course I never will. I imagine you think I’m just some youngster who has barely started shaving, barely out of puberty! You’ve no idea how many times I’ve watched you walk out of my office and I’ve wanted to call you back…” A smile spread across her lips as for the first time she heard Mr Smith laugh, “Watched that wonderful ass of yours, more like! Wondered what it would feel like beneath my hands, imagined slowly lifting your skirt… wondering if I’d find stockings or tights-”

“Tights I’m afraid…” she whispered.

“What’s that Tracey?” asked a voice.

Mrs Jones looked up and guiltily pressed the pause button. She pulled the headphones back from her ears and after a moment replied “Oh nothing Jane, just Mr Smith and his bad grammar… you have a good weekend now.”

“You too and don’t let that slave driver keep you too long! It’s Friday night after all! See you Monday” replied the twenty-something blonde from Admin.

“Bye” answered Tracey and looked down at the small recording device. Her thumb hovered over the ‘Play’ button as she looked about the office. Well over half the staff had already left and the rest were in the final stages of leaving.

Her eyes drifted back to the small machine and she watched as her thumb pressed the button almost of its own accord.

“-tights. I don’t really care as long as I could kneel behind you and caress that ass… run my hands over it… kiss it. You have no idea how many erections you have inspired… so many and yet so few that have been… well brought to fruition! Fruition? Funny word that, doesn’t really do things justice! The times I have taken myself to the toilets… my God you wouldn’t believe how hard and how powerfully I’ve come! The times I’ve sat in corporate meetings with you by my side and wanted to reach beneath the table and slide my hand along your thigh.

Wanted to trace my fingers along your slit, wanted to feel the dampness of your pussy, wanted to feel your fingers in my own lap, pressing against my hard-on! The amount of times I’ve lost track of the meeting and taken seconds to reply to a question, everybody thinks I’m just deliberating about my reply when I’m really trying to pull my mind away from your body… your pussy!”

Tracey realised her hands were resting in front of the keyboard curled into fists and that her thighs were tightly clenched together, her pussy was hot and damp as she forced herself to raise her hand and wave goodbye to Muriel from accounting.

“Oh God… What does that pussy of yours feel like? What does it taste like? I’m sitting here with an erection that longs to slide into your… cunt!” Tracey felt her practical underwear dampen, “Do you like that word? Do you use that word? When Mr Jones fucks you, do you beg him to fill your cunt? You wouldn’t have to beg me! Oh fuck! I want you so bad… I want to bend you over my desk and eat you out till you beg to be fucked! I want to drive my hard cock into your soaking wet cunt again and again and again!”

Tracey looked around the open plan office once again. Only Sarah who worked for Mr Stewart remained and she was focused on her computer screen probably unaware that everybody else had left. Slowly and carefully Tracey reached down with her left hand and pulled her skirt up over her knees beneath her desk. As her fingers slid up her thigh she cursed the fact that she was wearing tights but gasped quietly as she found the crotch was soaking wet.

“The amount of times I have gone home and fucked Lucy as soon as I’ve got the chance and imagined it was you beneath me, your lips wrapped around my cock…”

Tracey felt a surge of guilt at the thought of Mr Smith’s girlfriend quickly followed by a feeling of envy and then a shiver ran through her body as her fingernail scratched across her clit.

“My hands wrapped in her auburn hair, wishing it was your brown hair, watching your mouth slide down my cock… your eyes looking up at me as I feel my cock-head press against the back of your mouth… oh fuccckkk! I’m so hard… so close to coming! I should be working and all I can think of is you! I should be dealing with the Halifax account and all I can think of is you lying naked across my desk… your breasts… your ass… your cunt!”

“Cunt!” whispered Tracey as her fingers struggled beneath the elastic waistband of her tights and down beneath her soaking panties. She groaned aloud as her forefinger slid along her lips, my cunt lips she thought as her eyes fixed on Muriel to see if she was aware of her co-workers turmoil. The woman remained oblivious as Tracey pushed her finger into her soaking slit and felt a wave of warmth radiate throughout her body.

“There’s nothing else for it! I’m going to have to go now… I need to come… oh how I wish…”

Tracey shivered as her finger curled up inside herself and found her G-spot. Muriel went out of focus as she breathed heavily and felt a small orgasm cause her pussy to tighten around her finger. The audio file ended with three sharp bleeps.

****

Mr Smith was talking on the phone as Mrs Jones knocked and entered the office just after six. He nodded to her as she approached his desk and laid a sheaf of typed papers in front of him. She waited patiently to the side of the desk as he talked to the person on the other end of the phone.

Tracey stood there aware of the juices from her pussy, from her cunt, slowly running down her now bare legs.

****

Tights and knickers had come off when she had visited the Ladies toilet and thrust two fingers all the way in to her greedy slit. Her orgasm had been total and almost instantaneous.

When she had returned to her desk Muriel was nowhere t be seen and if any of the other ‘bosses’ were still in the office all of their doors were closed. She sat at her desk and wondered.

****

Mr Smith finished his phone call and looked up at Mrs Jones, “As I said, since when do I have to check your work?”

“Best to be sure Mr Smith, if there is anything amiss I’m still here to put it right” she replied with a determination.

“There won’t be” assured Mr Smith as he picked up the first letter and perused its contents. A slight shake of his head was the only tell-tale sign that his checking of his assistant’s work was unnecessary as he put it o one side and began to examine the next letter. Mrs Jones remained standing even though she wanted to rest her hands upon the desk as she felt her juices cool the further down her leg they ran. She stifled a groan of desperation as her boss eventually finished the second letter and picked up the third.

She watched as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped open. His eyes glanced up at his assistant and then lowered to her hand as it dropped the innocuous memory chip onto the blotter in front of him.  Mrs Jones moved around the desk and placing her hands on the arms of Mr Smith’s chair pushed it back from the desk. She moved in front of him and turned to place her hands on the desk. Looking over her shoulder into h is eyes she asked “Will there be anything else Mr Smith?”

His cheeks reddened deeply as the ‘letter’ fell from his hands to the floor, he watched as his assistant reached back with her right hand and pulled her skirt all the way up from her knees and over her back to expose her bare legs and ass. Mr Smith groaned as his eyes dropped to view the dark, obviously sodden dark bush of hair between her spread legs.

“Perhaps a little cunt, Mr Smith?” offered Mrs Jones as he pushed her hips backwards and moaned deeply as she felt the young man’s hand grasp her ass and his tongue slide into the folds of her pussy. Her elbows dropped to the blotter as her fingers grasped her breasts through her conservative blouse and bra. “Ohhh… fuck… maybe… make me beg for… mmmm… make me beg for your hard cock… Mr Smith!”

A mumbled reply issued from her crotch.

The End

~ by ftfagos on April 2, 2012.

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