Message-ID: <13215eli$9807211522@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/Year98/13215.txt>
From: rob4play@aol.com (Rob4Play)
Subject: Paula - Part 1
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-Id: <1998072100232000.UAA25018@ladder01.news.aol.com>
950802/951129 --- "Paula, The End of Her Lonely Day at a Roofing Company."
Originally created for AY, one of my first cyberpals ... maybe second. Other
stories: Return to the Alamo ... etc. ...... She really like these stories.
Personal preferences: everything, variety of men, SEX! Here, I fantasize about
being finally alone with her in the office at the end of the day. This is the
first time this has happened. After months and months of looking, drooling ...
never seeing enough cleavage .. imagining what it would be like to be fucking
her brains out, today we are alone. I can make it happen. And I did.
-------------------------------------------------
Paula ...
T H E E N D O F H E R L O N L E Y D A Y
A T A R O O F I N G C O M P A N Y
-------------------------------------------------
Larry, Moe, Charley, Ralph, and Dave had left for the day. That left Mike
and Me with Paula, the office manager of the roofing company that we work for.
I'm not 100% sure, but I think she's got the hots for me. Never says a
fucking thing though, not that I'd expect it. She kind of reminds me of a
librarian except for some of the outfits she wears; blouses which always seem
to give me a damn good view, scoop neck tops where when she leans over to go in
her lower draw let me see almost down to her navel. Red lace brassieres, black
silk ones. Transparent white blouses with no slip. Jesus! Sometimes I can
see the faint outline of her nipples underneath that white cloth.
Wonder if she seems me watching? Hasn't given any indication.....
The reason I think she has the hots for me is that when I fill out my
paperwork, I position myself so that I watch her in the mirror over on the
wall.
She's watching all right.
She's watching me right now.
"Hey, Bill, I'm all wrapped up." Mike said. "Meet us down at the Ramp room
for a cool one before going home?"
"Yeah, sure," I said, watching Paula looking at my profile in the mirror.
"Fucking job sheet doesn't work out, I'll be just a bit."
The job sheet didn't work out, but I could spot right away where the error
was. I was just stalling for time.
This was one of those rare occasions when I had absolutely nothing planned
for the night, a mistake HAD been made on the job sheet allowing me to outwait
the whole goddamn crew so I could have some free time with Paula.
The door slammed shut after Mike. The office fan hummed in the background.
I was alone with the librarian. I was getting a hard on already; not really
hard, but sure as fuck thinking about it.
"Paula, this job sheet just doesn't check out. The quantities are way the
hell out of line," I said, turning to look at her.
She said "Let me take a look at it, maybe I can see what's wrong and we can
both get out of this hot box."
I'll bet she had a hot box. Strange choice of words for her......
I shoved myself up from the desk and walked over to her desk, on her left
side. I handed her the paper-work.
She was wearing her brilliant red Mexican scoop neck shirt today, the one
with all the Aztec designs on it. I prayed that she'd lean over a bit or shrug
her shoulders forward.
On cue, she picked up the papers in her hand and put her elbows on the edge
of the desk in front of her. Swear to God, I saw her shoulders tense forward a
bit. Her shirt opened. Red brassiere on today. It was a back-hooker.
The sight of her flesh pressing into that silk red cloth was driving me
nuts.
"This quantity of shingles seems way out of whack for this job," she said.
She picked up a pencil and scribbled some figures. She calculated.
I watched every shift of her shirt line as I placed my right hand on the
desk and leaned over as if to offer assistance. I also was trying to conceal
my hard-on which had come to full attention in my blue jeans.
Christ! What a fucking dumb bell. She'll never be interested in a sweaty
guy like me. Probably has some steady guy that wears a suit and tie and goes
to church on Sunday.
As I leaned over, I could smell her perfume. I inhaled. Wonder if she
heard me.
Why don't you sit down while I work on this?" she said, breaking into my
sexual reveries.
The only chair was against the wall to my right. Handy, cuz I could still
stay on her side of the desk.
I pulled it over and sat down, shifting to hide my hard-on, covering it with
my hand and wrist.
She diddled with the stack of paper for a second.
Then she pulled out the lower right hand file drawer of her desk, turning
ninety degrees, directly towards me, Her short skirt was half way up her
thighs, her knees together precluding further view.
As she leaned forward over the drawer, the top of her blouse ballooned out.
Her entire chest became visible. Her breasts hung down into her red brassiere.
She may as well have had no fucking top on at all. I drank in all the
details. Time seemed to slow down.
My pulse quickened.
She pulled a file out of the drawer and sat back into her chair.
Her knees parted about twelve inches. I could see all the way up to where
her thighs pressed together.
As if relaxing, she scrunched forward on her chair. Her legs parted wider.
Was it the darkness of pubic hair, black panties, or what? My eyes probed.
As if detecting my gaze, she closed her legs again, bringing her knees
together.
"I think that they invoiced us for to many shingles. This other job shows
only 126 packs and it's the same kind of deal."
As my eyes flipped up, they met hers. She was looking directly at me.
Shit! She must have noticed where I was looking.
She had found the error I had seen before.
"Yeah," I said, "I used 115 and the invoice was for 200; there's 10 packs in
the garage.
"Well, that's it then, they just overbilled us. I can call them in the
morning."
"Yeah, a .... that'll be good.
She leaned forward again, bending over, breasts coming into view again. She
seemed to be fumbling with getting the file back into the Pendaflex folder.
While she fumbled, I mentally fondled her.
Shit, this excuse was just about over. Was going to end. Was going
nowhere.
Her head rose slightly and seemed to lock into position for a second. It
dropped back to its previous position and then bobbed down as if she herself
was looking down into her open blouse.
Suddenly her head swiveled upwards her eyes meeting mine, her tits in view
for a fraction of a second before I flicked my eyes up to meet hers.
Oh Fuck, both of my hands were gripping the arms of my chair. My cock must
be quite visible in my jeans.
"Were you having a good view Bill?" she asked.
"Ah, well ...... ah ......" I started to blunder out.
What's that in your pants Bill? You getting an erection over the office
manager?"
I glanced downwards to my crotch. No fucking doubt that there was a hard on
there. It ran straight down the inside of my tight blue jeans. Stood out as
if it was in neon.
"Yeah, you've given me an erection. Those godd.... outfits you wear
sometimes drive a married guy crazy." I said, honestly.
"Here, take another good look," she said, placing both hands on the open
file drawer, blouse opening for all the world to see.
I looked. I thought. I watched her eyes drop down towards the bulge in my
crotch and then back up again.
"Well," she said.
I looked into her eyes, saw her lick her lips through a slightly parted
mouth. I watched her breathe, her breasts rising and falling.
"Paula, you got a great looking set of breasts there. Someone should cast
them in plaster for posterity."
"Thank you," she replied.
She remained motionless
"Makes a guy feel like reaching right over with his hand and..."
"If you want to, you can Bill."
Time seemed to stop. The office sounds seemed louder.
I reached forward turning my hand upwards as it passed beneath her chin.
My fingers touched her flesh ever so lightly. I slid them forward, deeper
into her open shirt.
They met the edge of her brassiere and slid over letting the fullness of her
breast fill my cupped hand. I gently squeezed her left breast and rotated my
middle finger on to the top of her covered nipple, feeling it harden beneath my
touch.
"Oh Bill, you're so gentle," she said almost with a smile in her voice.
I looked into her eyes as I traced my fingertips between her breasts.
Upwards over the rim of silk. Downwards underneath the silk, cupping her warm
breast in my hand.
I felt her hand drop onto my right leg, just below my hard-on. As I kneaded
her breast, I could feel her hand inch upwards, feel it slide up on top of my
cock, sliding upwards, her palm sliding over the denim.
As her fingers reached my crotch, I felt her slide two fingers on either
side of my cock. They pressed in with purposeful firmness and slid down my
entire length, leaving my cock at the end and then returning to its tip,
pinching gently between thumb and forefinger, turning back and forth.
I gave my cock a purposeful twitch just to respond. She pinched back. My
hand slid over to her left breast.
"You still like the view Bill?"
"While I'm fondling you like this, I can't see a damn thing," I said giving
her a long slow squeeze in my hand.
"Let me know what you want me to do," she said.
"Take off your blouse," I said without removing my hand.
She reached to her side and pulled the blouse out of her skirt while I
fondled the top of her breasts above her brassiere now.
She reached behind her head and pulled her blouse upwards, over her head on
top of my hands.
--
+----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+
| <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> | <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> |
| Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>----<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/faq.html>