Working/offlnch
                                          Office Lunch, The
                  We had been seeing each other for some time now.  I should say,
                  literally, seeing, as it was as harmless as that.  I was deeply
                  and passionately in love with Sandy, but she, alas was married. 
                   Although she knew how I felt, for many months now we had just
                    been having casual lunches.  A while back we would go out to
                 various parks and have nice comfortable talks.  I enjoyed several
                 foot massages and some hand massaging to release tension.  Once I
                     even massaged her back.  And several time we shared a most
                 delightful, but chaste and platonic hug.  We both knew that there
                  was more to our feeling than these "encounters" and we each, in
                   our own way, hungered for more.  But we were loyal, at least,
                                         physically loyal.
                 The an unfortunate happenstance caused us to forgo our "outings." 
                  We were forced to limit ourselves to the local office grounds. 
                   But one day when we had a date planned, and we both needed it
                  very much (the mental alleviation we each felt at sharing these
                   few moments was monumentally heart-warming, it was nearly like
                    our physical frustrations and, well, to put it bluntly, our
                 horniness was partially slaked by these moments), it was raining. 
                  I wanted to return to "our park" for a rainy-day picnic, but her
                     superior will (not only was she strong willed, but she was
                    magnificently beautiful, a perfect and exquisite creature of
                   grace, charm and sensual charisma like none I have ever known)
                               prevailed and she suggested my office.
                       Now my office is small and cluttered.  The only really
                  recognizable features are the computer on a table beside my desk
                  and the "guest" chair is in front of my desk.  Sandy brought her
                  lunch and seductively settled her lovely self in the chair so I
                 could soak in her warmth and beauty.  It was so tempting to close
                    the door, even lock it, but the office wags would have had a
                   field day.  It was going to be bad enough with the occasional
                                  passerby, but we had no choice.
                  Lunch, itself, could have been uneventful, as sound would carry
                   so we had to keep our voices low whenever we spoke of relevant
                   things, like love and sex and the like; however, I found that
                 there was just enough room beneath the desk modesty shield for me
                  to read her feet.  A strategically placed box helped to cover up
                               the erotic fondling that was to occur.
                  During one particularly passionate, albeit, low-voiced exchange
                   about the charms of sexual intercourse, I accidentally bumped
                   into her foot with mine.  The result was not unexpected when a
                 humongous size 13 encounters a delicate, sensitive, feminine bare
                  foot.  Although it was not truly serious I felt really badly and
                  desired to rub it to ease the pain.  Sandy would not even allow
                   that to happen, but I decided to remove my shoes to prevent a
                                           recurrence.  
                   Why it took me so long to realize that I could stroke her feet
                 with mine I will never know.  Sandy readily accepted this because
                     no one could see.  So now as we talked of sweet nothings I
                 relieved my passions with gentle and erotic fondling of her feet. 
                 Oh, if the office only knew what was going on.  But they didn't! 
                   This went on for a good ten minutes.  I was having difficulty
                   making coverup conversation as the stimulation was enormous. 
                   Here I was virtually making mad, passionate love with the most
                  beautiful person in the world and I had to keep up the chitter-
                  chatter.  The desk covered up my erection well, whether my voice
                                   did or not is something else.
                   Then somehow the subject of computer programs came up.  It may
                    seem funny to be able to think of something like that on the
                  verge of an orgasm, but it did, thank goodness.  And why in the
                    hell do I say, "thank goodness?"  Well, my patient reader, I
                 decided that it was time to show her one of my new acquisitions. 
                   Now I could have showed her some of the X-rated texts I had or
                     some of the graphics that would justify the purchase on a
                  computer in the first place, but that seemed like a blaspheme. 
                   I picked an innocuous program and started it.  Sandy obviously
                  could not see from where she was sitting, so our mated feet were
                  torn apart so that the rest of us could be closer together.  She
                  glided over to my side and slowly and erotically turned towards
                     the screen and sort of snuggled up to me and my new friend
                            resting idly, but expectantly, in my lap.  
                   So let me describe the scene for you late comers.  Here I was
                  sitting at my desk looking a an innocuous video display with an
                  enormous hardon sort of hidden beneath the table.  (I must say,
                    parenthetically, that my erection was hidden from the casual
                   viewer, but Sandy was not a "casual viewer."  To her, nothing
                 about me was lost from her view, at least, I hoped.)  Now I am no
                 John Holmes, but with Sandy so close I sure felt I could give him
                  a decent run for his money or whatever.  The smile that crossed
                  Sandy's lovely full and passionate lips almost caused me to lose
                  my wad right then and there, as it said, "I like it that way."  
                    But let me continue before you the ever patient reader gets
                     bored.  And right, and I mean RIGHT, next to me stood the
                     luscious, delicious hunk of femininity, just dripping with
                    sensual passion.  Her hips were so close to my face I could
                 almost smell the aphrodisiac aroma from her genitals.  In my mind
                  I could and they drove me wild.  She slightly bent down to point
                     to the screen and rubbed her thigh seductively against my
                                             shoulder.
                 Expertly, we continued the idle chatter about computers and such. 
                  The occasional observer would not have noticed anything.  "Love
                   accomplished miracles," I always have said, and I sure was in
                   Love, deep, wonderful LOVE with this perfect creature.  It was
                   only natural to share my joy of being with her so I reached up
                   and put my arms around her hips.  This and subsequent actions
                     were, of course, carefully hidden from all who walked by. 
                 At first, Sandy hesitated and moved away, slightly.  Her instinct
                  was keep her distance, probably thinking that she had encouraged
                  something that shouldn't be encouraged.  Her "encouragement" was
                     not of her knowing.  Just because she was what she was, a
                   delightfully kind, gentle and sensitive mature woman in a most
                  attractive package.  All along I had been attracted to her even
                  before she knew I existed.  God surely had created some strange
                  things in this world and many beautiful ones.  But this time She
                 out did Herself.  (Some may think that only a male could conceive
                  of the perfect female, but I say that men wouldn't recognize the
                 "perfect female" if she were dropped in their lap.  All they want
                      is a good fuck.  Only a female could imagine all of the
                  delightful traits of her sex and wish to package just one.)  But
                                          I digress again.
                   In the past I would have dropped my arm and let her "win" her
                  battle of wills, but for some reason I was not going to allow it
                 this time.  My increasingly active lap-friend may have influenced
                  me.  Anyway, I tightened my grip on her hips and pulled her back
                  against my shoulder.  When I felt the resisting tension ease, I
                 eased my grip.  But my hand seemed to be detached.  It soon began
                 a slow monotonous "cruise" around Sandy's soft and lovely flank. 
                 Our hugs in the past had been waste-up now I was being treated to
                 another delightfully curvaceous part of this enchanting creature.
                   With each passage I detected less resistance.  Her right hand,
                 which had poised near mine a few moments ago, gradually fell back
                   to her side.  I felt a distinct softening ripple through her. 
                    Cautiously, my hand felt it was nearer to me, to attempt to
                  surmount the two exquisite mounds of passion.  Sandy's luscious
                 and sensuous bottom was one of her most outstanding features, and
                  that is from a leg-man, who had long admired the slim, trim turn
                    of her ankle.  This lady embodied perfection enough for all
                 normal fixations.  Now, as in my dreams so many, many times I was
                 softly caressing each contour of her posterior so cruelly trapped
                   in a dress and underwear.  This was a body that deserved to be
                   set free (and she had sent me into a frenzy once when she said
                   she loved to fish in the nude, I have still not recovered from
                   those mind-boggling scenes).

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  Anyway, I continued this exotic
                  trip to never-never land until I thought I would physically wear
                 away her clothes.  The only noticeable reaction I could ascertain
                                     was a definite snuggling.
                   Gradually, my hand moved down and continued the caress on her
                  lovely seductively curved thigh and down and around to her knee,
                 the first touch of flesh, or near flesh, as her ever-present hose
                  prevented me from fully touching the natural her.  With ever so
                 much delicacy I began a very slow and, hopefully, sensuous return
                  trip up her leg.  A quick stiffening and the return of her right
                  hand stopped me about half way up her graceful thigh.  Her hand
                 rested gently on mine as if saying, "Hold up.  I sure enjoy this.
                                     but it shouldn't happen."
                  For a brief moment I paused.  With this pause, her body relaxed,
                                 but her delicate hand remained.  
                      A co-worker popped his head in my office.  We exchanged
                        pleasantries for a few minutes.  Her hand fell away.
                  Even before the interloper left I began once again the delicious
                     climb of the stairs to heaven.  This time I encountered no
                   resistance.  When I neared the summit of my climb, I slowed to
                 "smell the flowers along the way" and I would have given anything
                   to smell the wondrous aroma that surely must be radiating from
                  the grotto of love, so near.  Slowly, but surely, I continued my
                  trek along those exquisite inner thighs of this goddess.  Every
                  time I felt Sandy tense, I paused and circled around in delight
                 until this wondrous creature shared my delight.  Then I continued
                                       my marvelous voyage.  
                    When I encountered the apex and felt the multiple layers of
                     artificial coverings my fingers rested to peruse.  Further
                  ministrations would be ineffectual for both of us.  I considered
                   asking Sandy to excuse herself for an altering of attire, you
                     know, get "into" something more comfortable, but remotely
                    remembering the location I chucked that idea.  I was lost in
                                      thought and frustration.
                   Then a door appeared before me, a strange, but lovely door.  I
                  approached it in my mind and opened it.  Revealed before me was
                 the most beautiful and exotic garden anyone has ever beheld.  All
                    colors filled my eyes and a million lovely smells clouded my
                    senses.  What had caused this?  Well, my patient friend.  A
                   touch.  Yes!  A simple, genuine and honest touch.  No I hadn't
                   really seen a heavenly garden nor smelled one.  I had felt the
                     touch of Aphrodite, no it was more, it was the warm gentle
                  passionate touch of Sandy on my thigh.  The heat radiating from
                 that one simple act filled me with renewed yearning and fervor to
                  share my joy.  As I clumsily fought the fold under Sandy's dress
                  to strain to locate the tops of her hindering garments, the warm
                  hand on me squeezed its encouragement.  At last, success, I had
                   found the end.  Now the difficult task of lower this physical
                   barrier without destroying anything and without causing undue
                  disturbance that might cause an intruder to notice.  Slowly and
                     carefully I lowered her panties and panty hose in fits and
                   starts, first from one side and then the other.  Initially, a
                   fraction of an inch at a time and gradually gaining confidence
                 and experience I was able to move it a few inches at a time.  At 
                   long last I had slipped the encumbrances low enough so that my
                  delicious explore could continue.  I trembled with anticipation
                    and trepidation.  Would she really stand idle by and let me
                    continue?  I had to wait only a few moments for the answer.
                 With exceedingly slow and gentle strokes I followed my previously
                   traversed path back to the joining of those exquisite soft and
                    satiny limbs.  I could have simply followed the heat to the
                   source of my desire, but I had other ways of searching and the
                  probe itself, was not without elation.  But I was further aided
                  by the warm hand on my thigh.  As I approached the toasty source
                    the grip became stronger.  When I finally reached the love's
                  sacred sanctuary and just felt the moistness, the grip on me was
                                         of one possessed.
                   I just flirted with the holy grail, skirting its ripe lips in
                   search of Sandy's holy scepter.  The delight of the search was
                 exhilarating.  There it is!  I had found the verge of Femininity,
                  Femininity incarnate in this lush, magnificent and flawless body
                    of Sandy.  Three things happened at once: The shock of first
                    contact shot electricity through my hand, Sandy stiffened in
                 rapture and her hand moved and closed on my rigid penis, striving
                              to free itself from its earthly bonds.  
                    For a brief instant we were both frozen in time.  Any casual
                     passer would have just seen two ordinary people watching a
                 computer display.  Only if they had heard the virtually inaudible
                 groan of delight simultaneously spill from their lips would there
                     have been the slightest suspicion.  Fortunately, none did.
                    Their brief pause in their urgent endeavor was passed as my
                   fingers gently caressed this enchanted tip.  As I cuddled and
                 embraced its firm outline a steady ecstatic moan could be heard. 
                 Without missing a single fond stroke, I slipped my unused fingers
                   down lower to the chalice I so dearly craved to sip from.  (If
                   only,...., but that was not to be.)  Her response was only the
                   imperceptible whisper, "Please, please don't stop.  Don't stop
                     for anything.  It is wonderful, so, very, very wonderful."
                     Needless to say, I was not going to discontinue my joyous
                  petting, whether it gave Sandy pleasure or not and she knew it. 
                    Because all of this time she had courageously encouraged my
                  erection by expertly stroking it in time with my ministrations. 
                  Her only pause was to quickly unzip my fly and release my steel-
                  hard penis to be freely exercised by her delicate and sensitive
                     fingers.  On and on we went, our minds lost in each others
                  finger-tip embraces.  The only change was the steady increase in
                        intensity as we approached our long-sought climaxes
                          simultaneously.  This was all we could share.  
                   The enchantment my fingers encountered was indescribable.  The
                  hot moist chamber was so soft and inviting, inviting to more of
                 me than was possible at that time.  My poor surrogate-penis could
                  only wonder at what might have been.  The sensitive finger tips
                  probed for more contact, deeper and deeper, but they could only
                  proceed so far before my contact with Sandy's deserving clitoris
                      would be lost.  In they would slide delighting in their
                    surroundings, the silky and pliable grotto made slippery and
                   slidey by a delicious mixture of oozing secretions I longed to
                    sip.  The treasure-trove at the end of this exquisite tunnel
                 could never be surpassed by the path itself.  But the long search
                     for the Love-prize, the mother-lode, was about to end with
                                            fulfillment.
                  Neither was Sandy's hand a substitute for her delightful vagina,
                   but she sure tried.  Not only was the stroking in harmony with
                    our inner souls, but her finger tips continuously played the
                 field, so to speak.  No one part of my bloated stiff protuberance
                  was free of her investigative touch.  The sensations she caused
                                          were exquisite.
                  When I could no longer hold back I whispered, "We have arrived,
                  Sandy.  Come with me to Nirvana, enter Elysium with me."  And we
                      both shook in ecstacy and we climaxed exactly together.
                     As my seed flowed all over some papers on the floor, Sandy
                                     collapsed to her knees.  
                  For many minutes we stayed still, basking in the brilliant, but
                 soft, glow of joyous spiritual Love made tangible by our bodies. 
                    Then after the glow had abated somewhat we both realized our
                 predicament.  Our unabashedly Loving smiles to each other quickly
                       faded as we struggled to pick up the loose pieces.  In
                  surprisingly short time all appeared normal.  The floor had been
                 cleaned up, the clothes replaced, as needed, and our countenances
                                     restored to near normal.  
                 "What's new?"  Sam said as he bustled in unannounced.  In unison,
                    we replied, "Nothing, what's new with you?"  And laughed the
                  relaxed laughed of truly at ease and satisfied with themselves,
                                    which they happened to be. 
                                                 --
                                                  
                                                   
                                                  


 



 
                                                  

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