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Business Call

By: al_Ussa



At the age of 35, Catherine Roberts was the youngest employee to ever take on the role of Vice President of Marketing, and the first woman to do so. And why wouldn't she? Having graduated Harvard School of Business at the top of her class, almost everything in her professional life spoke of power and success. Ever since she had started working for the company, she had slowly risen to the top. Her record spoke for itself.

It didn't hurt any that Catherine was an extremely beautiful woman either. A tall, slender brunette, Catherine was blessed with very shapely legs and large breasts; traits that Catherine was completely aware of and dressed to emphasize. She habitually wore business suits that showed disproportionate amounts of cleavage, and short skirts that gave others a nice view of her legs.

One thing was for certain - Catherine definitely knew how to use her natural good looks to her advantage. A cold, wicked smile crossed her lips as she walked down the hall way, completely aware of the fact that every man in the office was ogling her. Not that Catherine minded. In fact, quite the opposite, she had long since learned how to use her sexuality to her advantage. With her rare combination of brains and beauty, Catherine had managed to climb her way to the top.

At the same time, she had made quite a few enemies, both amongst the other, equally talented women who had been passed up for promotion instead of her, and amongst the men whom she mercilessly teased. Everyone knew that she was going to fall from grace one day, and when she did, she was going to fall hard.

Once she had reached the end of the hallway, Catherine slowly opened the door and entered her office. She smiled, knowing that as soon as she left the room, her colleagues were going to talk about her. For a brief moment, she wondered what they might say, but such idle curiosity quickly passed when she entered her private office.

"Good morning Mrs. Roberts," chirped Lauren, her mousy, redheaded secretary, "How are you today."

"Just fine Lauren, just fine," Catherine sighed, "Did I get any messages while I was out?"

"No, just this package," Lauren replied, as she handed Mrs. Roberts a manila folder.

Catherine opened the parcel and thumbed through the papers inside, briefly glancing over them before looking back up at Lauren.

"Damnit," she exclaimed, "Corporate was supposed to send us these financial records last week! We're already behind!"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Roberts but..."

"I'm going in back," she said, heading into her office, "And I don't want anyone -- anyone -- disturbing me. Do you understand?"

"Yes Mrs. Roberts," her secretary said as Catherine slammed the door shut.

Catherine sat down and furled her brow. Lately, the stress of her work had been catching up with her. Although she was more than happy to manipulate those around her into doing some of her work for her, Catherine was always careful to make sure that she took credit in front of her bosses, and wasn't above pulling all-nighters to get her job done. Whatever negative, selfish traits she may have had, above all, Catherine had ambition. She wanted to get ahead in life, and was willing to sacrifice anything to get it -- friends, family, anything!

Unfortunately, she was doing just that! With her long hours and busy schedule, she rarely got to spend any time at home with her husband any more. Indeed, the few nights that she was at home, he was usually away on a business trip to London, or Calcutta, or God only knows where else! Catherine may have been the ultimate career woman, but she was quickly finding herself sexually frustrated.

To exacerbate matters, Catherine had recently found that getting angry made her hot. In fact, her sex drive went through the roof when she got mad. And she had certainly been angry lately. Without anyone around to satisfy her carnal lusts, Catherine had taken to frequently masturbating in order to relieve some of her sexual tension. It didn't help much, but at least it felt good. So good...

Sitting down at her desk, Catherine picked up the phone to call the corporate offices. There were several rings before some receptionist picked up.

"Welcome to corporate," she said in a rather nonchalant voice, "How may I help you?"

"Yes," Catherine said curtly, "This is Catherine Roberts from the Houston office and I wanted to talk to the manager."

"Of course," said the receptionist, "Let me put you on hold for a minute."

The stereotypical sounding elevator music came on.

'Damnit,' Catherine thought to herself as she put the phone down, 'How long am I going to have to wait.'

Frustrated, she leaned back in her office chair and absent-mindedly ran her fingers through her long auburn hair. The stress was starting to get to her. Already, Catherine's thoughts started to drift towards some way of pleasuring herself. Sticking her hand under her mini-skirt, Catherine began to rub the sensitive folds of her cunt through the thin, lacy fabric of her panties. It felt good too; really good, in fact.

Moaning softly in pleasure, Catherine spread out her shapely legs and put them up on top of her desk. Her high heels slammed down on the hard wood. Catherine looked up at the door, at first nervous that someone might have heard the noise, but nothing happened. Relieved, Catherine went back to pleasuring herself. In an attempt to get a better reach at her pussy, she hiked up her mini-skirt, revealing her long, shapely legs.

Quickly, Catherine yanked off her panties, exposing her moist, dripping cunt. She began to finger it, rubbing it until she started to feel that familiar pleasure that only masturbation could give her. The thrill of doing it in her own office -- where she risked being caught by her co-workers -- only added to the eroticism of the moment.

Catherine looked around her desk for something to use as an aid. Unfortunately, most of the objects on top of her desk were more suited for office work than self-pleasuring... there were paperclips, a stapler, a pencil sharpener, a calendar and several manila folders full of financial data. Finally, Catherine settled on the coffee mug where she kept her pens. She picked out a cheap plastic pen and rubbed it over her thick, full lips. Licking it, to give it some lubrication, Catherine took the pen and began to rub it against her vagina.

'Oh yeah,'Catherine thought to herself, 'That's the feeling! That's what I'm looking for!'

At first, she concentrated her work on the sensitive outer lips of her vagina. As she got more and more aroused, Catherine's vagina began to get wet, leaving ever so slight of a moist spot on her chair. Catherine either didn't notice, or more likely, didn't care. As she got more excited, Catherine began to probe the inner depths of her womanhood, sticking the pen deeper into her dripping wet cunt.

"Mmmmm," she moaned softly to herself, hoping that she wasn't loud enough to draw attention from her co-workers.

Unfortunately, although she could bring herself just to the point of ecstasy, she kept falling short of that familiar sense of relief. Realizing that such a meager piece of equipment was unlikely to satisfy her, Catherine tossed her pen aside. It landed flawlessly into her metal waste paper basket. Scanning her desk, she looked for something more phallic to use on herself.

'Damnit,' Catherine thought, 'If only I had a vibrator somewhere in here...'

Just then, a brilliant idea went off in her head. Catherine realized that she did have a vibrator of sorts on her after all! Reaching into her jacket pocket, she pulled out her cell phone. In one swift motion, she flipped it open. Scrolling down the phone's menu, she turned down the volume and set it on vibrate. The phone vibrated for a moment, as a demonstration, and then stopped.

'That was pretty strong,' she thought, 'I wonder if it will be strong enough, though. Only one way to find out I suppose...'

Catherine hesitated for a brief moment, looking up at the door and making sure that nobody was coming into her office. Then her base, animal instincts took over. Slowly but deliberately, she pushed the cell phone up into her vagina. She was already wet down there, so the phone slid in with little resistance. Once it was in as far as it would go, Catherine sat back and took a deep breath. Reaching over, she put her phone on line two.

'Here goes nothing,' she thought to herself.

Catherine dialed her cell phone and waited. Sure enough, a couple seconds later, her phone started to buzz. It was the most amazing thing that she had ever experienced. For such a small little device, her cell phone packed as much punch as any vibrator that Catherine had ever used in her lifetime. The vibrations of the phone sent wave after wave of pleasure through her entire body. Her legs spread out and went limp as she rode through the vibrations. Catherine was lost in an ecstatic reverie...

"Fuck yeah," she screamed out at the top of her lungs, "That feels so fucking good! Oh! YEAH! AHHHHH!!!!"

Catherine threw back her head and rode out the pleasure of her cell phone's vibrations. When she sat back up, Catherine was shocked to find her co-workers standing by her door. A large crowd had gathered by her office, curious to know what all of the commotion was about. They were shocked to find Catherine Roberts, V.P. of Marketing, with her legs spread out on top of her desk and her dripping wet cunt exposed to the world, the cell phone still sticking out obscenely. Laurie, her receptionist, had a wicked grin on her face.

"Seems like the stuck up bitch has been doing something inappropriate," said Lauren, "Now it's my turn Mrs. Roberts. We've got dirt on you, and if you don't want to get fired, you're going to do whatever we say. Looks like we have a new office slut boys!"

"Yeah," said one of the men, "I want to go first."

"Me next," said another, "I've wanted to nail that hot piece of ass for a while now!"

"Yeah," replied the first man, "She's always flaunted it around the office, teasing us. Well now it's our turn bitch!"

Realizing that she was caught, Catherine rolled her eyes. At least being the office slut was better than being fired. Especially in this economy! And besides, it might even give her a chance to vent some of her sexual frustration to boot. Now she would get to find out which of her co-workers had the stamina to fuck her all night long. Sitting back up, Catherine slid her mini-skirt down her well toned thighs and started to unbutton her blouse.

"Mrs. Roberts," came a voice from over the phone, "Are you still there? Are you all right? We heard screaming..."

'Oh well,' she thought to herself, 'I suppose I'll have to finish that call later...'

Business Casual



There was a woman named Alison, who was a TV producer. I was assisting her in some research for a program she was producing, and she had come by my office several times, for some useful discussions. She was friendly and charming, but always stopped short of being flirtatious. She may have seen my wedding ring, which was hard to miss. But none the less, I did indulge in a little private speculation about her. She seemed like she could be hot in a librarian-sexy sort of way -- tightly laced, repressed sexuality that might suddenly boil over without warning.

That evening she showed up unannounced, just around the time everyone else was leaving. I showed her to the conference room, and we began to discuss the project.

She was wearing fishnet stockings. They seemed very out of place; she cultivated sort of a scruffy liberal image, studious looking, short hair that was a bit messy. But she was wearing fishnet stockings tonight. I put it out of my mind, and engaged her in a serious intellectual discussion.

But the thought came back -- why the stockings? Was she trying to get me interested? She knew I was married, and I knew that she was engaged. We kept talking.

Her skirt was too short. She kept adjusting her legs, moving them around. I was determined to keep focussed, because she was asking intelligent, important questions. Her legs were moving. Her outfit was so plain; the stockings seemed out of place. We kept talking, until at a certain point she just stopped, and stared at me with a slightly goofy smile on her face.

"You know," she said, "I have a confession to make." I looked at her expectantly, and she blushed. But then she bravely soldiered on. "I don't know what it is about you, but you make me feel very naughty."

"I do?" I replied. I was genuinely surprised, because I had been a perfect gentleman. "What did I do?"

"Oh, you didn't do anything," she said with a reassuring smile. "But for some reason, I'm doing things."

"Well, could you give me an example?"

"OK." She blushed deep scarlet now, but seemed determined to proceed. "After the first time I came here to meet with you, every time I've come back, I haven't worn any panties." She paused, and looked contrite for a moment. "I don't normally do that sort of thing." 

She studied my face, gauging my response. I didn't know what to say, but I was suddenly aware of something. I could smell her arousal. It was strong and sweet, and it robbed me of my self-control. I was as hard as a rock.

Alison was talking again. "It was exciting to go without panties, but no one knew but me. I figured I probably shouldn't say anything to you, because we're both involved with other people. But tonight I had the urge to wear these stockings. And for some reason, now I'm telling you these things." She paused. "I hope you're not offended."

"No, I'm not offended," I admitted.

"You don't mind me talking about it?" she asked hopefully.

"No, go ahead," I said, and pulled my chair closer to hers as a gesture of encouragement.

She smiled. "Do you like the stockings?" she asked.

I was trying to concentrate on our conversation, but I found the aroma of her excitement to be intoxicating. The air seemed thick with it. I dropped to my knees and took her right foot in my hands, and began to unfasten the strap of her shoe. As I did so, I kept my gaze fixed upward on her face, because I knew that if I looked straight ahead at eye level I would probably be looking at something that I didn't feel quite ready to see. "Yes, the stockings are gorgeous," I said. I sat back up, still holding her foot, and began to massage it through her stocking.

She said nothing, but I could hear her breathing. After a minute she said, "I just melt when you do that."

It was exciting to feel her fishnet-covered foot in my hands. I was past the point of being in control of myself. "Really?" I said. "Which part of you is melting?"

Once again she blushed scarlet, but her expression was increasingly one of wanton abandon. "Should I show you?" she asked.

"Would you like to?" I replied.

She swallowed. "Yes, I would." She moved her hips forward; her skirt rode up, exposing the tops of her stockings, rolled up around her upper thighs. I heard her breathing. Then she slowly and deliberately seized the hem of her skirt and pulled it up around her waist.

Her abundant, fine-textured pubic hair was soggy and matted. She must have been very wet for a while. Her pussy lips were puffy and rose-colored, and significantly parted. I fell to my knees before her once again to have a closer look.

I began to gently kiss her thighs, just above the stockings. I was dizzy from the smell of her arousal. I heard her breathing, more loudly and sharply.

Her hips moved again. I kept kissing her thighs, and I felt her hands in my hair, pulling me closer. I resisted the pressure, rubbing my cheeks against the smooth skin of her thighs.

She pulled harder. My face was an inch from her pussy. She smelled so good. I ran my tongue around the very outside of her pussy lips, and then I dipped it between them, just slightly. She tasted like paradise. She pulled harder; I resisted. I gently sucked one of her pussy lips into my mouth. 

Then she pulled harder, and I plunged my face into her cunt, revelling in it. I dipped my tongue in deep, and slowly dragged it up across her clit. "Yes, that's it," she said. "That's what I wanted. I wanted it so bad." I did it again. She groaned. "Do you like the way my cunt tastes?" she asked. I didn't answer; I just opened my mouth as wide as I could and sucked her vulva, while swirling my tongue all around it.

Then she stood up. Our eyes did not meet. She took off her skirt, and walked about the room, naked from her waist to the tops of her fishnet stockings. She let me see her fingers playing slowly up and down her pussy lips, and occasionally venturing between them. She turned away, and then showed me more. She was teasing me. I stayed where I was, kneeling in the middle of the floor. Finally she stopped in front of me, with her pussy only a foot or so from my face, and slowly inserted two fingers, bringing them slowly back out to smear pussy juice around her clit. 

I seized her other hand with mine and laid down on my back, and she took the hint. She slowly straddled my face. She rubbed the stockings against me, and then planted her pussy full upon my mouth. She began to cry out in rhythm with the probing and licking of my tongue, and then suddenly she was cumming. She came continuously and copiously for several minutes. Then she stopped, and I heard only her ragged breathing.

Suddenly she got up on her knees and turned around, and began feverishly unfastening my belt buckle. I raised my ass to make it easier. Then, hastily and awkwardly, she managed to pull my pants down to my knees. She moaned at the sight of my erect cock, and then she took took it full into her mouth, swallowing it to the hilt. The sensation was thrilling. Within a minute she had me to the brink of cumming, but I stopped her. "Wait a minute," I said. I sat up and removed my shirt and pants. Then I took hold of her sweater and said, "I want to see what you look like without this."

Alison lifted her arms over her head and allowed me to take off her sweater. Then I helped her to her feet and contemplated her brassiere. It was lacy and scarlet and very attractive. I looked up into her eyes. She smiled, and I stepped forward to kiss her. As our tongues lazily entwined, I could feel the hardness of her nipples against my chest, with only a thin layer of satin between. I kissed her more aggressively as my hands moved to her back, to unclasp the bra. Then I stepped back to slowly remove it. Surprisingly, she blushed again as her breasts came into view. They were small but nice, and the nipples were taut and looking like they ached to be sucked. I stooped to take one, and then the other into my mouth.

Finally I heard her say, breathlessly, "May I keep the stockings on?" "Of course," I replied. She stepped toward me to kiss me again, and brought one leg around mine, letting her stockinged leg rest behind my calf. I seized her ass, lifting her upwards, and she wrapped her other leg around my other leg, while her hands guided my cock to the entrance of her pussy. There was some initial resistance; she writhed impatiently until my cock slid all the way in, deep inside her. She groaned with pleasure, and began to kiss me more lasciviously, opening her mouth wide. Her fishnet-clad legs were locked around mine, and I began to move her ass up and down, feeling her cunt contract deliciously around my cock. 

Alison tried to pick up the pace, but I wouldn't let her; I moved her slowly up and down my shaft, feeling her clit rub against me. She giggled deep in her throat, and kissed me some more, sucking my tongue. "I can taste my pussy on your mouth," she said, and began waggling her ass from side to side as we moved together. It felt so hot that I couldn't help moving a little faster. "Oh god," she whispered in my ear, "I love your cock."

At this point, it was impossible to stay slow. We began to accellerate, and each time her pussy descended on my cock, it seem to send me deeper inside her. She arched her back, offering her breasts to my mouth. I sucked hard on one nipple after the other as she thrust her pussy to meet my cock. "I want you to cum," she said through clenched teeth. "I'm going to cum... I'm going to cum..." And at that point I could no longer restrain myself, and I began to spurt copiously into her wonderful cunt. She began to wail, and I could feel her pussy spasm. 

When our orgasm subsided, we continued to stand there for a few minutes. Every now and then I could feel her pussy give my cock a little involuntary squeeze. Finally she whispered in my ear, "I'm going to wear these stockings to our next appointment."