Fun Sex Story about Co-Workers
A Vanilla short story by Jack McAdams
It was hot and crowded in the Neon Wrangler that night, the air conditioner unable to keep up with the energy radiating from the dancers and drinkers. Diane went to the restroom. While still in the stall, she removed her panty hose, thought "why not," and also removed her black satin panties. She carefully rolled up the panty hose, stuffed them in her purse, folded the panties and left them on top of the panty hose. Her purse wouldn't close but it would be fine, she wasn't going to stay much longer.
Back at the booth, Diane placed her purse on the seat next to her. She finished her beer and caught her breath, talking to other people from work while happy hour wound down. A few minutes later Jim slid in next to Diane and her purse fell over onto his leg, her panties popped out and spread across his lap.
Blushing, she stared at them, speechless. Jim smiled, then stuffed them back into the purse and asked her to dance. The happy hour crowd faded away, and after dancing with a couple of other guys, Diane decided she had enough dancing for one night. She said her goodbyes and walked to her car, heels clicking on the worn sidewalk, the night air pleasant between her legs. Jim's pickup had already pulled out of the lot into traffic, the turn signal winking good night.
In her car, Diane opened her purse and searched for her keys. A napkin with dark, block writing fell out. It read: "Come alone or the panties get it," with what she suspected was Jim's address below. She looked in her purse, and although the pantyhose were there, her panties were missing.
"Oh great," she said to herself out-loud, started her car, and backed out into the parking lot. Diane stopped and considered which way to turn. North was home and safety. South was a big, good-looking guy almost twenty years younger than she, who had a pair of panties with her initials embroidered on them.
She hesitated, pushed the blinker down and turned south toward the lake.
Diane almost turned around twice. There was no good reason to do this, hormones and ego aside, and every reason not to. Showing up at a sexy, young guy's house in the middle of the night, especially one that she worked with, was not the brightest idea in the world. But she could see her panties, initials embroidered on them, thumb-tacked to the bulletin board by the coffee machine Monday morning. Things like that had happened before. She would go by his house, get her panties and leave.
She found the little clapboard house down by Town Lake with Jim's old pickup parked in front and the lights on inside the house. She shut off the engine, heart thudding in her chest, got out of the car and walked down the gravel drive, heels unsteady on the uneven surface.
Jim met her at the door, barefoot and shirtless, more muscular than Diane had imagined.
"Hey, come on in. I was afraid you weren't going to make it." He held out a beer for her, grinning. "Want some?"
Diane handed him the napkin. "Cute," she said.
"When they jumped in my lap, I figured they wanted to come home with me." Jim grinned. Blue eyes, blond hair, big muscles. No wonder the young women swooned over him.
Diane took the cold longneck- more to have something to do with her hands than because she wanted another beer.
"Nice place you've got, Jim," she said dryly. The place was furnished in early Salvation Army.
"Thanks," he replied, the sarcastic tone going over his head. "I love being on the water, listening to the bullfrogs at night and the fish jumping. I don't have air conditioning but there's always a nice breeze. Sometimes I catch a couple of little fish and cook 'em for supper. It's a shame, but they'll probably tear this down pretty soon and build some high dollar condos."
Diane nodded, needing to act before her resolve failed. "Could I have my underwear, please?"
"Oh sure. They're in here."
Diane followed Jim into the single bedroom, knowing that the longer she stayed, the greater the chance was of getting in deeper than she intended.
Jim pointed to the table beside the bed where her panties were neatly folded.
"You like the lights on or not?" He asked casually.
This was it: was her last chance to cut and run, get out of here and drive home. She could grab the panties, say thanks for the beer, walk out and be home in half an hour. Her heart pounded in her ears, time standing still. She knew what she should do, and she knew what she wanted to do.
"That lamp is fine," she sighed, sealing her fate. Diane stepped out of her shoes and sat on the bed next to Jim. She turned her head up and they kissed, gently at first, his hand cupping her breast, her arms sliding around his neck. She liked the feel of his big arms, the smooth cords of muscles as he took her beer, set it on the night table and laid her back on the bed.
"Wait," she said, sitting up. If she was going to do this, there was no reason to be coy about it. She stood, unbuttoned her blouse and skirt, removed and folded them neatly on a wooden chair. Jim moved behind her, expertly unsnapping her bra. She unbuttoned his jeans, watched as he stepped out of them, not wearing any underwear.
"You don't wear underwear either? Are we starting a new fashion trend?"
He pointed to a basket of pink garments on the floor by the bed, "I washed my t-shirts and underwear with a red shirt and they faded. I'm not wearing pink underwear, no way. The guys from the machine shop would never let me live that down."
"Oh, but you would be so hot in pink."
Standing, they kissed again as she stroked his cock. Collapsing to her knees, Diane took him in her mouth, running her tongue around the sensitive underside, and over the smooth head with its peculiar helmet shape, feeling him swell and grow in her mouth.
He pulled her up, and kissed her, their tongues teasing each other. Then the kiss turned serious, their breath quickening, hands moving over each other's body. She bit his lower lip, pressed the softness of her tongue against his and was rewarded by a satisfying groan in response, his erection pressing hard against her stomach.
Diane scooted up on the bed, her back against the headboard, knees bent as Jim knee-walked up to her. He grabbed her ankles, and pulled her down flat, the way he wanted her. Lowering his head to her breasts, Jim used his tongue and teeth on her nipples, sucking on them until they stood out bluntly, leaving her breasts red and tingling. His hand moved between her legs, a finger trailing down the wetness of her slit, slipping a finger into her and then another. He used his thumb on her clitoris, moving it lightly from side to side but Diane was past that stage -- she'd been past it when she walked in the door.
"I want you inside me," she said, with a sudden need to feel him thrusting in her. Grasping his shaft she guided it to her wetness, positioning the head at the correct angle, and pulled it against her nether lips, wanting that hardness deep inside her. Kneeling, he thrust against her, the bulbous head slip-sliding into her, forcing her open as it went. She spread her legs, grasping his buttocks, excited by the clenching of his ass muscles as his cock cleaved her. Pulling down on his ass -- her red finger nails digging into his flesh, she wanted his full length in her. Jim grunted and thrust against her tightness until his cock, hard as granite, was in to the hilt, balls thumping against her ass.
Diane was exhilarated. For months, sitting at her desk at work, wiggling on her chair after he walked by, she'd wondered what would it be like to be with him. He was so much younger and so rugged looking, all the young women tried to catch his eye. She had wondered if he would even be attracted to her. She smiled to herself, he very definitely was.
Jim lifted her knees, pressing them back against her shoulders, his cock hard and smooth as she clenched herself around him. Diane pulled his head down, arms around his neck, kissing him, doing things with her tongue to make him crazy. His cock swelled and hardened as his strokes quickened, balls smacking against her ass. Diane knew how to do this, how to make a man so hot and so horny he couldn't get enough of her. She roamed his back with her finger tips, feeling the ropy muscles move under his skin and thought of the wires on a player piano. Rolling her hips, thrusting against him, Diane delighted as he thrust left, then right, rising to thrust straight down into her. She was good at this, she knew, squeezing her internal muscles around him like hot velvet. They moved like that for several minutes and Diane's first orgasm shuddered through her body, a whimper escaping from her mouth. He moved faster, until he couldn't hold off and then squirted into her, moaning into her mouth as they kissed.
Catching his breath, still hard, Jim asked if she was okay. Yes, she nodded, licking her dry lips. She loved the texture of his skin, the bulk of his broad shoulders, the strength of his arms. This is what she had wanted and needed -- a man to match her sexual appetite.
Then Jim surprised her.
Leaning back, a big, rough hand on each ankle, his biceps like grapefruits, Jim spread her legs as wide as they would go, and with his cock still inside her, he lifted her ass off the bed. She was stunned. At first she didn't realize what had happened, thinking he had just spread her legs, and then realized only the top of her back and shoulders were touching the bed. Her ass was suspended in air as Jim handled her like a rag doll. She grabbed the headboard behind her to have some control. She was helpless to do anything but take what he gave her, as open and vulnerable as a woman can be. An orgasm blossomed and bloomed, followed by another and another, her body twisting as the spasms hit her, his strong arms keeping her where he wanted her.
Someone was moaning, "Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod" like a mantra. Diane suspected it was her, but the physical sensation was so intense that her whole consciousness existed in the warm depths between her legs as Jim bored into her. He kept at it, pumping relentlessly. Her mouth was dry as a cotton puff and she gasped for air, the orgasms marching through her body like a conquering army, the next one starting just as the one before it completed. Jim lifted her ass higher, groaning with the effort, blue veins standing out on his biceps. Like a snapshot, Diane caught a glimpse of him in the dim light, arms quivering, a grimace on his reddened face as he was unable to prolong his orgasm any longer. He came, squirting into her, his shout punctuating her cries as orgasms surged through both their bodies, leaving her shuddering and both rasping for breath.
"Don't take it out! Move slow," she begged as his body sagged against her bent knees. She grabbed his wrists, the internal contractions as powerful as she had ever experienced. It took a minute, maybe twice that long until her spasms finally stopped.
Lying on their sides trying to catch their breath, Diane grabbed the beer off the bedside table and drank deeply. Then she passed the bottle to Jim who finished it off.
"I knew it the first time I watched you walk down the hall, how your hips moved, how great your ass looked in a tight skirt. I knew you'd be good in bed but not like this! Oh man, tonight is the best sex I've ever had!"
Diane smiled. "You're sweet." She patted his cheek, hoping he wouldn't ruin it by talking. She got out of bed and went to the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face and wiped smudged mascara from beneath her eyes. She found some mouthwash in the medicine cabinet and finger combed her damp hair, despairing at her disheveled appearance.
What do you expect -- she asked her self, you've just been fucked silly by a guy young enough to be your son.
Jim was still talking when she returned from the bathroom.
"A friend of mine told me that once a guy has sex with an older woman, he usually never wants to do it with someone younger again."
Diane laughed and said, "Oh yeah, right, Jim! That's why all those guys divorce their old wives and get young tootsies for trophy wives. Guys like what they think they can't have."
"And what do you want now?" he asked.
Diane smiled, smoothed her damp hair away from her face and said, "I want it from behind."
She knelt on the bed, watching their reflection in the dresser mirror as he came up behind her. She opened her self with her fingers, thighs slick with their mingled juices. In the mirror she saw his shaft slide full-length into her, causing her to cry out in surprise as his cock went so deep so quickly. Diane rested her head on the cool sheets, her ass in the air, fascinated by his cock lazily sliding in and out of her, hard and shiny like a newly machined tool. Then his eyes caught hers in the mirror and he smiled slightly, like a predator toying with his prey. He continued to move slowly, withdrawing until only the head of his cock was in, pausing and then slowly gliding deep into her. Diane wiggled her hips, pushing back towards him.
"You want it hard and fast?" he asked, his voice low.
"Yes."
It came out like a hiss. She watched the reflection as Jim's butt muscles clenched, his hips swiveling on roller bearings, thrusting into her, now moving faster. God that was hot! Her nipples ached as she pinched them, wishing for an eager mouth on each one. He gripped her hips, increasing the speed until he was slapping hard into her, making a wet sound as they came together. She met his rhythm pushing back against the headboard with her arms, pressing her ass toward him. She watched the mirror as they fucked, the most erotic video ever made.
Textures and sensations enveloped her -- the hard grip of his calloused hands on her hips -- their reflected movements in the mirror -- the pungent odor of their sweat, and just the sheer carnality of his cock driving deep into her. An orgasm flared so hotly Diane thought she would pass out, her hips bucking involuntarily as a second orgasm followed the first. She shouted this time, the pleasure too intense to contain.
Oh God, had anything ever been this erotic before, she wondered, and cried once again into the mattress as an orgasm struggled through her weary body. They moved like this for a long time, until sweat ran down her belly, and fatigue finally overwhelmed her. She was too tired and sore to climax again and her shaky legs collapsed under her as she fell sideways onto the bed, pulling away from Jim.
Diane laid on her side, breathing hard, her legs drawn up as Jim sat on his heels behind her.
"Wait," she gasped. "I'm getting sore Jim. I need to rest, let me catch my breath."
"You don't have to do anything but lay there. I'll do all the work." He opened the drawer in the bedside table and removed a condom which he rolled down his cock. Then, he squirted some gel from a tube into his hand.
"What are you doing," she struggled up on one elbow.
"Have you ever done it like this?" he smeared gel on her ass, sliding his finger gently into her other hole.
"No, Jim. Don't. I don't like that. I've tried it and it hurts." Her protests sounded feeble even to her.
"You said you were getting sore. Let's try this. I promise I'll stop if you tell me to. If you just relax, it won't hurt."
He pressed his cock against her ass and Diane laid her head down, too tired to resist. She'd have to be dead to relax any more. Slowly, his cock pressed into her ass, opening her. She moaned and grabbed his arm.
"Wait. Go slow -- let me get used to this before you go any deeper."
"Is that okay? Does it hurt?"
"Just go slow."
She sighed, forcing herself to relax, watching Jim in the mirror as his cock slid deeper into her ass. The pressure expanded her, but the pain wasn't like she expected.
Again she watched in the mirror, this time as he fucked her in the ass.
"Does that turn you on, watching us?"
She nodded. "I like to watch your hips move."
Gradually he pressed forward until he was fully inside her, making short strokes at first. Diane was again powerless to do anything but lie on her side and watch Jim pump into her, still shocked at what she was letting him do. It was so decadent and forbidden. When she could stand it no more, she raised her leg, still watching the mirror, and her hand moved gently to her swollen lips. With a single bright red nail she gently caressed her engorged clit, teasing herself -- a sizzling fuse ready to ignite. As he moved faster, her finger kept pace -- the red nails a bright flash of color in the mirror.
She watched his hips, the strong muscles bulging and contracting, and his rough hands on her thighs. Then she was spiraling down the bunny hole, bright lights behind her eyes, chasing one, final elusive orgasm that she was too tired to catch. When she was sure she would pass out, the orgasm was finally there, a last flash of warm sensation spread through her pelvis and out to the far ends of her body. She touched Jim's outer thigh, his movements now slow and deliberate as he struggled with his final climax. Thankfully, he came with a groan and rolled onto his side.
They lay on the tangled bed, too spent to talk. The room smelled of sex and perspiration. Sweat beaded on their bodies as a light breeze, soft and humid, sighed through the open windows. Diane smiled sleepily, thinking it had been a long time since she had gotten this crazy, pleased she still could. They dozed until she startled awake and saw the clock -- she needed to get home.
In the shower, Jim, entirely sated, slumped against the tile wall as Diane soaped both of their bodies. She stood under the sprinkler nozzle, the warm water reviving her. Impulsively, she dropped to her knees on the hard tile, water cascading down her face. She took his limp cock in her mouth, cupping his balls with her hands. And he had thought he was through for the night.
Her tongue traced the curved ridge at the head of his shaft and then down the underside. She continued stroking him with her hand, sucking more of the length into her mouth, taking it in further as it grew harder and wider. She relaxed her throat, wanting to see if she could still do it, deep throat - they used to call it. She felt the head move past her tongue, pressing deep into her throat now. She talked to her self, you're doing fine, she thought, relax, breath through your nose, you won't choke. She ignored the desire to gag, taking it deeper until she felt his pubic hair against her lips, wondering how this felt to Jim. She was triumphant, she'd done it!
Now she was in control. She moved on his shaft, holding his hips as he had held hers, fucking him with her mouth as he had fucked her with his cock, sliding out and back, her teeth grazing against his skin, his hands tangled in her wet hair. She spread the cheeks of his ass apart wide enough for a single, slender finger to find the clenched opening. He moaned, resisted, and she pressed her nailed finger through the passage. She probed deeper, found the bump of his prostate and massaged it. That did it for Jim; he groaned like a wounded bear, his cock swelled and jerked, spurting in her mouth, on her cheek and her breast. The thick come dripped off her nipple for a moment and then the water cascading down her body washed it away. Wobble kneeled, Jim braced himself against the tile walls.
Diane pushed herself to her feet, smiling. She still had it.
She dressed, slipping into her shoes, stepping into her panties. She picked something up out of the basket by the bed and put it in her purse.
Jim came of the bathroom, a towel around his shoulders. "I've never experienced anything like that blow job in the shower."
"Not bad for an old broad, huh?" Diane laughed -- men were so easy to satisfy, especially horny ones. She kissed Jim goodbye, and walked on shaky legs to her car and drove home. She smiled all the way.
Monday morning, Diane was already at her desk when people started filtering in, stopping at the coffee machine to laugh. Thumb-tacked to the bulletin board was a pair of Jockey's, faded pink, bearing the initials JPM in magic marker.
Originally Published March 2007: Getting Lucky