Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Constructive comments welcome at orchidblooming67@yahoo.com.

   We are sitting in the large conference room, at a long walnut table that
seats 22.  I am seated at the head, the investigator is to my left, and you
are to my right.  The room is empty except for us, and silent except for
the scratching of the investigator's pen.  Sunlight filters through the
blinds of the tall windows behind you, on the exposed brick wall.  She
wanted you to sign a sworn statement, but I declined, so she is scribbling
notes instead, trying to keep up as you speak.  I am wearing a short,
sleeveless black dress with a black jacket over it.  Conservative enough,
as long as the jacket stays on.  The dress hits mid-thigh when I'm standing
up, but rides up high enough to see the full length of my legs when I sit.
I manage to hold your eyes until I cross my legs.  You look down as I let
the shoe fall off my right heel and dangle from my toes.  The black
slingbacks have a slim line, with a narrow stiletto heel, and the toe of
the shoe curves across the front to show the tops of my toes.  The angle
accentuates my high arch and shows off the profile of my muscular calf, and
I know you are aching to touch me.  I slide my chair up to the table and
lay my notepad down on the top.  If she were paying attention, she would
know that something is wrong because a lawyer would never take notes in
view.  But she is engrossed with her own documents, so I take a chance.  I
let the shoe drop off my toes to the floor, and slide my foot up between
your legs.  She looks up and asks you the next question.  I take a perverse
pleasure in watching you try to concentrate while my bare toes find the
outline of your cock through the fabric of your pants.  You are hard, and I
can feel the shape of it as I slide my foot up and down, caressing it.  You
casually let one hand fall to your lap, and you grab my foot.  As you
stroke my instep with your thumb, you glance down to see my toes wiggling
in your lap, with their red-painted toenails, and you just can't take the
teasing any more.  She is speaking again, but you can't follow her, so you
interrupt, "Counselor, may we take a short break?" I ask the investigator
to excuse us, and I stand up, sliding my foot back into my shoe -- "Mr. 
Kinsey, will you please join me in my office for a moment?"

   You follow me out of the conference room double doors and down the hall
towards my office.  As we walk by my secretary's desk, she looks up at us,
but I don't see the questioning look that she gives you as we pass.  I am
preoccupied thinking about being alone with you, and you are absorbed in
watching my legs as I walk down the hall in front of you.  I shut the door
behind you after you follow me into my office.  I turn towards you and grab
your tie, pulling you down to me.  Our tongues meet and the passion is
explosive.  I reach down and start to unzip your pants, but you pull back
and say, "No, you first." You take my hand and pull me around behind my
desk, and push me down by the shoulders into my blue leather chair.  You
kneel down on the floor in front of me, and spread my thighs with your
hands.  My legs are muscular and smooth, silk over steel.  The contrast is
irresistible, and you are intensely aroused -- you pause for a moment to
admire the line of my legs, down my calves to the heels still on my feet.
Adding to the excitement is the thought of my secretary sitting at her desk
just outside the door, knowing that we could be discovered any moment.  You
hook a finger under my black lace thong and pull it out of the way.  You
flick your tongue quickly over my clit, teasing, paying me back for what I
did to you in the conference room, knowing that you aren't giving me
enough. I whisper an anguished plea, and in answer you sink your finger
deeply into my wet hole while you stroke my clit with your tongue.  It only
takes a moment and I begin to shudder and moan, until your other hand
clamps down on my mouth to silence me.  The release is exquisite, and I am
lost in bliss until you whisper sternly in my ear, "My turn." You pull me
up onto shaking legs and spin me around, grabbing me roughly by the neck,
and push me face down on the desk.  You pull my thong down to my knees
while you unzip your pants and pull your cock out of your pants.  You slide
my dress up over my hips and grab me hard with your left hand, your fingers
sinking into my flesh.  Risking the noise, you smack my ass sharply, hard
enough to leave a handprint.  A small cry escapes me, and you lean over and
whisper in my ear again, "That's for being a tease." I can't see you, so I
gasp as I feel your rock-hard cock slide deeply into me, in one deep
stroke. I moan again, more loudly than before -- I know that you will
punish me for this later as well, but I can't help it, the sensation is
overwhelming.  You pump in and out of me with long strokes -- my thighs
burn and I feel your thumbs digging into my hips, pulling me back into you
in time, my ass smacking hard into your lower belly with each stroke.  You
can't control it and I already feel your balls tighten as you explode
inside of me.  Just then the intercom buzzes and Cynthia says, "Rachel, the
investigator is waiting in the conference room." I tell her that we will be
right there, and as we pull ourselves together I hope that you will be able
to concentrate better now....