Linda and the Office Party

Previously...

"I'll pay you a visit in a few days," Lenny said. "Maybe in a week or two. Maybe more than once. I think we might even make it a regular thing."

"What?... Where?" I asked, quickly putting on the clothes he provided and stepping into the flip flops.

"Wherever I want, I suppose," he said. "Maybe the cab, or here. Maybe your office. Hell, maybe I'll come to your house and fuck you in your own bed, Slut. Think your hubby would appreciate that?"

"Please, don't!" I pleaded. "Can't I just blow you, now?" The way he was talking to me, in his deep voice... my pussy was practically gushing.

Another knock on the door.

"Housekeeping," a woman's voice called out.

Another knock, and the door opened. Luckily, I was dressed this time.

"I guess not," Lenny said. "I've got your number. See you soon, Slut."

I grabbed the plastic hotel laundry bag with my lingerie outfit, my purse, and then put both in the shopping bag Lenny had brought. I tried to look mad as I walked past Lenny. He made no effort to follow me.

The housekeeper quickly stepped out of my way.

I was smiling by the time I made it to the elevator.

I still had no idea what to say to my husband as I put my keys on the hook near the mud room door. I had managed to change into my previous day's work clothes on the way home, but it turned out to be unnecessary.

His car was in the garage, but he wasn't home. That usually meant he took an Uber to the airport.

Or, a taxi.

A folded note was waiting for me on the kitchen table.

"L, I was called late last night to go to a late-morning meeting in New York. I had to take the redeye flight, so I left before you got home. You know how it is. Hope you didn't drink too much. Tell me about it later. Love, H"

I took another shower, put on fresh work clothes, a touch of make-up, and made a cup of coffee before heading out the door. So far, the Preparation H was doing its job. As I threw away a napkin in the trash can, I caught a glimpse of a familiar looking business card mixed in with the trash. I rustled through my purse and pulled out a more worn, but otherwise identical business card.

A taxi service business card.

"Oh, shit," I said to myself. "I don't how or by how much, but I guess things are going to get complicated.

Fuck it," I said, and finished my coffee. "I'm a slut. I'll handle it."

And off to work I went.

..........

I don't know why I couldn't wait to tell Jean about the night before, but it was the first thing I did after grabbing a cup of coffee and getting settled in my desk, pretending to scour through work email.

I didn't bother calling Michael, as I was sure Terry told him all about it, and probably posted pictures and video on the Internet without my permission.

"Oh my!" Jean said over the phone. "It sounds like you really had a good time."

"I did," I said, "But, there's a complication."

"Are you addicted to big black dick, now?" Jean asked.

"They weren't all big, and no," I said, forgetting where I was for a moment. Ron seemed to stop what he was doing, as if trying to not make any noise and listen in on my conversation.

"Do you mind?" I asked Ron. He smirked, nodded, winked, and then pretended to go back to work.

I quietly told Jean about the taxi driver, Lenny, and how he not only rocked my world in the back of his taxi a few weeks prior, but he happened to be the driver that took my husband, Brian, to the airport last night.

"Coincidence?" Jean asked.

"Really?!?!" I responded.

"Well, how did you find out about the taxi driver in the first place?" Jean asked.

I had to think about that for a minute.

"It was either Michael or Terry," I said. "Probably Terry, as he arranged the party that night and had the taxi driver pick me up so I wouldn't have to take my car."

"You want me to ask him the story on this Lenny of yours?" Jean asked.

"I don't think it matters, at this point," I said. "He's hung like a horse, and fucks like one, too."

Ron rolled his chair away from his desk, "Talking about me?"

I rolled my eyes and walked to the break room.

"Well, what's the problem?" Jean asked. "If he's a good lay, just be smart about it and enjoy him. I'm sure Michael won't get upset, unless you think this Lenny is going to occupy a lot of your time."

"I don't know what this Lenny is going to do," I said. "That's just it. He's kinda creepy in that way. And what happens when he figures out that he took my husband to the airport?"

"I don't know," Jean said. "What would he gain by making trouble for you? I mean, he obviously likes you. And he obviously wants to keep fucking you. You want to keep fucking him, right?"

"I guess," I admitted. "He really knows how to fuck, Jean. I mean, Michael is gorgeous and there's nothing I wouldn't let him do to me... but this Lenny guy..."

"I know the type, Linda," Jean said. "He's on the bad boy side, knows how to fuck hard, long, and has impressive equipment and knows how to use it. Let him fuck you wherever and whenever he wants. Eventually, when there's no more challenge to it, he'll move on to someone else."

"How long will that take?" I asked.

"I don't know," Jean said. "Depends on how busy he is. Weeks, months, maybe a year."

"Fuck!" I said. Kevin walked in on the outburst.

"Language, Linda!" Kevin said, taking a moment to look me up and down before pouring another cup of coffee and heading back to his office.

"Sorry," I whispered to Kevin.

"What do I tell Michael?" I asked Jean.

"Tell him what you told me," Jean said. "He'll either understand or he won't. But, I think he will. He's in love with your ass. I don't think he'll ever turn down a chance to ride your butt, no matter who you've been fucking."

It never felt normal talking to Jean about her son, Michael. She knew about us for a few months, and while the discovery was shocking for her, she accepted the fact that her late thirties co-worker and her twenty-something son were very close fuck buddies. An all-out orgy at her friend Marjorie's house seemed to normalize things for us, but not completely.

"Okay, I'll try that," I said. "I have to make good on a deal I made with Ron, too."

"Deal?" Jean asked. I really wish she hadn't gone on that business trip without me, but at least one of us had to go, and Terry set up that part the night before.

"For covering for me this morning," I said. "Turns out, nobody would have been home if work called, anyway."

"So, what's the deal?" Jean asked.

"He wants me to lick his butthole before deep-throating him," I said.

"So?" Jean asked. "It's not like you've never done that before, right?"

"He wants me to do that here, at work," I said.

"Oh," Jean said. There was a long pause. "Does he expect to collect today?"

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe. I'd rather just let him fuck me up the butt, but it kinda hurts, now."

"He's never done that to you?" Jean asked.

"No, just the regular stuff on business trips," I said. "Lots of blowjobs. I think I've blown him more than my husband."

"Oh," Jean said, followed by another long pause. "Wait until later in the afternoon. Offer him your butt at a later date, and if he says no, just take him in the bathroom after everyone else leaves. You said he doesn't last long, right?"

"Not usually," I said. "He's fine on a trip, but here... at the office?"

"Well, don't forget to brush your teeth afterward," Jean said with a chuckle. Even her laugh was sexy.

"I wish you were here," I said.

"I know," Jean said, before hanging up.

We were both falling behind in our work, so Kevin didn't question it when Ron and I said we were going to stay for another hour. After everyone else had left, I walked to Ron's cubicle.

"Long day?" I asked.

"You know it," Ron said, smiling and looking me over.

"About that favor..." I started.

Ron started to undo his belt. I put my hand on his growing bulge.

"Maybe you'd like something more?" I asked. "Maybe when we're both better rested?"

"Like what?" Ron said, placing his hand on mine and squeezing it over his throbbing sex.

"Oh, I don't know..." I said. "Like maybe doing me in the butt?"

His bulge throbbed and I felt it grow under my hand.

"Why not both?" Ron smiled, continuing to undo his pants.

"I'm really tired, though, Ron," I pleaded.

"Well, just tongue my asshole and deep-throat me, then," Ron said. "Right here."

"Here? At your desk?" I asked.

"Yep," Ron said. "Get under my desk. That's how I always pictured you."

"You sure you don't want to maybe do this in the bathroom?" I asked. "What if someone walks in?"

"Even better!" Ron said. He could be a jerk some times.

I helped him pull off his pants and underwear. To my surprise, his balls and butthole were completely shaved.

"When did you do that?" I asked. He normally trimmed himself - manscaped - for business trips when I let on that I was willing to fool around on a particular trip, but I'd never seen him go completely hairless down there. I wasn't sure if that's what made his dick look bigger, or if knowing that I was about to tongue his butthole had him extra excited. At least I wouldn't have to worry about pulling hairs from my teeth.

"A few weeks, now," Ron said, leaning back and giving his manhood a tug. I motioned for him to spread his legs so I could crawl under his desk. I've always lived up to my end of a deal, after all.

"No, no..." Ron said. "I need you to take all of your clothes off."

"Why?" I balked. "You won't even see me!"

"Doesn't matter," Ron quipped. "It turns me on knowing you're naked. Completely naked."

Wanting to get it over with, I looked around the office to make sure we were still the only ones on the floor, and slowly undressed. His manhood really did look bigger than I remembered.

"You're lucky I like sucking your dick, Ron," I said, completely naked and standing between his legs.

I pushed his chair back and started to squat down, backing under the desk when he stopped me.

"When did you pierce your nipples?" Ron said in amazement.

"A few months ago," I said, tugging at my perpetually hard nipples and making them stand out even farther. "My clit, too. Do you like it?"

Ron nodded his head slowly, and his dick bobbed slightly as if agreeing.

"What's that?" Ron asked, pointing to a red mark under my belly button. The temporary tattoo of the Spade and letter Q left a welt, raised and slightly red in the same shape.

"Oh, nothing," I said, moving his hands to his sides and quickly moving my face to his groin.

Ron sat so his butt was barely on the edge of his office chair. He pulled his legs back and I gently caressed his soft ballsack. I lifted his balls out of the way, and kissed around his dark hole.

I let his balls rest on my nose while my tongue darted in and out of his butthole. I reached up and gently stroked his respectable cock, eager to take him in my mouth and get it over with.

"Uh-uh," Ron said, "Not yet." He held my head and pushed my nose harder into his ballsack. I licked more fervently, and he relaxed pressure on my head.

"That's it," Ron said. "Lick my asshole. Deeper, you dirty slut."

I guess I should have been thankful that he hadn't recently taken a shit. I wasn't sure how much more butt licking he wanted, but if his butthole was a pussy, it would have been ready for dick as wet as I'd made it.

Satisfied, he finally pushed me back and lowered his legs.

"Now, I want to watch you take it all the way down your throat, Linda," Ron said. "And don't swallow. When I come, I want it to be on your face."

"Come on, Ron," I said. "You know I can't go home like that."

"On your face, tits, and in your hair," Ron added.

I doubted he could actually come that much, but I decided not to argue.

I took him in my mouth slowly, licking the head and covering it with my saliva before working my way down his shaft. My spit covered his hairless balls and I worked my way back up his shaft before taking the head in my mouth and opening wide.

I bobbed on his dick a few times, easing a little more down my throat each time, and then pulled back to take a breath.

I looked up to see Ron smiling at me, and holding his phone.

"You're going to get us both in trouble, Ron," I whimpered, but I didn't stop. I took him back in my mouth and this time took his full length down my throat, not stopping until my nose was pressed against his pubic bone. I moved up and down ever so slightly, and then backed off completely, letting strings of saliva drip from my mouth and his slick cock. My fingers found their way to my pussy, and of course, I was more than a little wet.

I took him back in my mouth, and again took his full length down my throat. This time, I pulled back without letting him pop out and then took him all the way down again. I did that about ten more times and I could feel the tears and snot start leaking from my face.

"Oh, yeah!" Ron said. "You're such a slut, Linda. Suck that cock, you dirty little slut!"

I did.

I stopped long enough to take a breath, and then, hoping he was close to coming, rubbed his wet dick all over my face.

"Do you want to come in my pussy, Ron?" I asked, before taking him back in my mouth. I let him pop out and rubbed his manhood on my face, again. "I'm soooo wet."

He answered with a warm stream of come across my face, in my eyes, and in my hair. I put him back in my mouth and sucked hard, once again taking his full length down my throat. He wasn't expecting that, and he responded with a deep grunt. The sound made my sex throb. I needed a dick inside my pussy. I really didn't care whose dick, either.

I let him pop out of my mouth, and to my delight, he was still hard.

"Please fuck my pussy, Ron," I said. "I'm so close. Sucking your cock really turned me on, baby, and I'm not getting any at home."

"Really?" Ron asked, pulling me up to my feet and pretending to believe me.

"Really," I said.

"Weren't you out whoring last night? Isn't that why you were late this morning?" Ron asked, sounding mean, but not meaning to.

"I was at a girlfriend's house, drowning my sorrows," I lied. "I'm so tired of using dildos. I need the real thing, Ron."

"I don't have any condoms," Ron said, remembering I always made him use condoms on business trips.

"I think I'll be okay just this once," I lied, again. He was low risk for disease being married to a mousy wife, and I was at no risk of getting pregnant as I had my tubes tied years ago. He didn't know that, though.

I turned my back to him, leaned over his computer, and arched my butt upward. On our business trips, he liked to fuck me doggy style, but that was usually on a bed. Given the space, I didn't think he'd mind fucking me while standing.

He didn't.

He lifted my right leg and plowed into my pussy without warning. It hurt and felt incredible at the same time. I wasn't sure where he acquired this new-found stamina, but Ron fucked me hard like that for almost ten minutes. I looked down and noticed he had kept his phone camera on, on the floor between us, capturing his cock pounding my bald pussy for all it was worth. I met his thrusts and bucked back against him, causing my buttcheeks to slap hard against his thighs.

"Oh yeah!" I cried out. "Fuck me, baby!" I probably sounded like a porn actress, but I really was enjoying it.

Ron let go of my right leg and I slowly lowered it to the carpeted floor, making sure to keep my legs spread wide enough so his phone could still get a clear view of his dick slamming into me. Then, he really started fucking me the way I liked... no, the way I needed to be fucked.

Hard.

And fast.

Ron didn't hold back. And neither did I.

I braced myself with one hand on his desk, while the other feverishly rubbed my clit.

"Oh fuck, Ron," I said. "I'm close!"

"Come on my dick, cunt!" Ron grunted, uncharacteristically. "Come on it, you fucking slut!"

That was all I needed to hear to send me over the edge.

My legs shook uncontrollably and my pussy tightened hard around his shaft. I couldn't remember coming that hard with him before. I was sure I wouldn't forget this one.

Ron continued to fuck me through the first and second wave of my orgasm. I wondered when he was going to come, or if he already had, and I just didn't feel him unload inside me.

Unexpectedly, Ron pulled out of my pussy, grabbed my wrist, and twisted it in a way that brought me to my knees. He grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked back hard while shoving his dick in my mouth.

I grunted, as I wasn't ready to take him down my throat, and gasped for air. He pulled out long enough for me to catch my breath and then shoved his dick in my mouth again.

I reached down and felt around the floor for his phone while he face-fucked me, found it, and then held it out at arms length. I made sure it was still on the video setting, and took a selfie video of him pulling out of my mouth just in time to shoot his come all over my face, neck, and tits.

Just like he wanted.

That was the actual deal.

Ron took the phone out of my hand, and pushed his dick back into my mouth.

"Okay, now you can swallow, Linda," Ron said quietly as he moved the phone closer to my face.

He didn't put the phone away until I had licked his cock, balls, and asshole clean.

"Happy?" I asked, putting on my clothes while Ron pulled on his pants.

"I'll cover for you anytime, Linda," Ron said with a smile. "As long as you do that every time."

"If I knew you could fuck like that, you wouldn't have to cover for me," I said with a grin. I really could have cared less about Ron fucking me again. I let him have his fun, but fucking in the office was not conducive to continued employment at the marketing firm.

My husband, Brian, was held over for another day in New York, so I used the opportunity to pamper myself and finally get a good night's sleep.

I woke up feeling one hundred percent better. My legs felt a little tight from the workout they received the afternoon before, but everything else felt back to normal. Including my butt. I had altered my work wardrobe to be a little more provocative in recent months, but only made the effort to look sexy when I knew we had new client meetings, or if I was feeling particularly good about myself. This day was the latter. The conversation with Brian the night before went well, and my vague account of my all-nighter seemed to satiate his mild curiosity.

In all actuality, he probably didn't care. I could have sworn I heard the shower running in the background, and he never leaves the shower running while he's on the phone. I didn't call him out, though. Good for him.

Just a happily married couple.

My day took a turn when I reached the office. The floor was unusually quiet as I worked my way to my cubicle, getting sideways glances as I walked past some of my fellow coworkers. I barely had time to put down my purse when Kevin called me into his office.

I knew something was wrong when he told me to close the door behind me.

The corner office had huge glass panels. I knew anyone looking would be able to tell the nature of our conversation by our body language, so I tried to look as relaxed as possible.

Kevin, for his part, couldn't contain himself. He was obviously upset, which was rare.

"Get a lot of work done, yesterday, Linda?" Kevin asked.

"Not as much as would have liked, but getting caught up," I answered.

The long pause that followed let me know something bad was coming.

Like Ron, Kevin had been a designated fuck-buddy on business trips when I first started at the marketing firm. The two didn't seem to like each other very much personally, but professionally, they knew each other's place, and actually got work done. I doubted they talked about me, even though I alternated between the two almost every other trip.