Opportunity Knocks

Female Ejaculation

I was the new hire, the new Chief Information Officer for the firm. The position was new, but the owner had Big Plans for expansion. I was brought on to implement his vision by improving the hardware and software on which the company operated. As with all things business, you have to spend money to make money. The question was for how much money would I ask and then how much could I get and then how would they let me spend it.

That was why I was working on a weekend. I had done my initial survey of the facility, the existing hardware and infrastructure, as well as the current software. I had written up a spread-sheet with projections and now the Chief Financial Officer was going over the numbers with me. Things were not going smoothly. There were a couple reasons for this. One was just the natural tension between the person who controls the money and the person who wants to spend it. The other was that she was knock dead gorgeous and my decision to take the job was instantly made as soon as I had been introduced to her.

On that day she wore a flattering business suit, all in blue, including her hose. Her heart shaped face was framed perfectly by her black hair worn down. Her fingers were slender in my grip when we shook hands and I had to make an effort to not stare at her bee-stung lips when she smiled politely at me.

I was no kid, I had traveled. I had met Asian women before and had admired their doll-like beauty, their grace, the fashion sense which set them apart, but none had taken my breath away as did she. Yes, I interviewed for the job because I knew I could do it, but I took it because it gave me an opportunity to work with her. I knew jobs would come and go, but she was the unexpected polished gem in a stoney life.

We had interactions while I went about the initial stages of the task. I learned she was single but lived with her boyfriend, ten years my junior, her “people” were Korean and were still across the ocean, and incredibly intelligent. Each day was an exercise of frustration as I enforced self-discipline, tearing myself away from her presence to prevent her from seeing me as the creepy older guy as well as preventing the work-place gossip mill from grinding out new rumors.

We had agreed to meet at the office on this Saturday to avoid distractions and the interference that comes with other people demanding attention with smaller problems during the normal work day. This was the first time I would see her in casual clothes and was eager to see the direction of her transformation. Would her skirt go from conservative business knee length to high above the knee? Maybe a sundress! Shorts and t-shirt? I was dressed comfortably in Levi 501 button front jeans and a simple nonsense logo t-shirt, just as comfortable as I could make it. I had my fingers crossed that she wouldn’t keep to a casual Friday type outfit. That would probably make me cry.

She was standing at the door, keys in hand, when I pulled into the parking lot five minutes early. She smiled and waved as I slid into a parking slot next to her sensible, non-flashy car. She had opted for jeans and a button-down shirt, sleeves rolled part-way up. I waved back, grabbed a few notes I had made the night before, and left my truck behind, going to meet her.

That smile brightened as the distance lessened.

“Hey, Jason,” she said over her shoulder, sliding the key into the slot, “ready to go to work?”

“You have no idea,” I replied as I took the opportunity to check the fit of the jeans over her bottom while she was pushing the door open. “I’m raring to get started.”

She laughed, motioning me inside. Her fingers danced over the security key-pad, preventing our boss from getting a call from the local police about a break-in.

“I got that sense about you,” she said as the beeps gave us the all-clear.

“What’s that?”

She turned to face me, nailing me with the way her lips revealed small, white teeth.

“That you’re a doer, not a slacker.”

“Thanks, I got the same vibe about you, Monica.” I waved my hand toward our office space. “After you, m’lady.” I wanted her in my view a much as I could.

“That’s cuz I’m Asian, right?” she said as her slightly curled hair bounced with her walk. “Always pushing, always excelling, always succeeding! That’s us!”

“Is that what it is?” I said as we entered the conference room we had prepped at the end of the previous day. “I thought it was just because you are about the smartest woman I’ve ever met and amazingly competent.”

She paused for a fraction of a second and her face turned up to look at me, now somber.

“Some people think I’m a dragon-lady.” Her voice had lost its lightness.

“Ouch! bakırköy escort Bitten many people, have you?”

Her smile came back, but the voice regained only part of its earlier warmth.

“Not recently, no.”

“Then we better get started so I don’t give you a reason to take out a chunk out of me!”

We pulled up our chairs and sat facing each other across the corner of the conference table. Papers and charts not already in the computers were piled neatly between us. Eventually the back-and-forth across the table became comparison and collaboration when I moved to sit beside her. We had just finished a bargaining session regarding new billing software when I looked at the time display in the corner of the computer.

“Holy shit, Monica,” I laughed, “we’ve been at this for almost four hours!”

She leaned back in her chair, arching her back and stretching.

“Feels more like ten,” she groaned extending her arms behind her.

I didn’t reply because it was the first time I became fully aware of her breasts and was drinking in the vision of them pressed against the stiff cotton of her shirt. I could barely make out the pale bra beneath, supporting what had to be very respectable C cup sized breasts. They seemed larger, if that was possible, because of her slight frame. All told she was about five and a half feet tall and about one twenty with a rather willowy motion over-riding her admirable curves.

Pushing her arms behind caused her to lean forward and the shirt fell away enough for me to glimpse the white frilly garment and a bit of skin.

“You know what you need?” I said, standing.

“A vacation and raise,” she answered, now rolling her head with a sigh.

“That’s probably true,” I admitted, “but I can’t make that happen.”

I moved to stand behind her and she looked up at me quizzically.

“What I can make happen is this:” and placed my hands over her shoulders and pushed my thumbs into the base of her neck.

“Wha—” she began but finished with “Oooooo…” and another sigh.

“I didn’t put this in my resume,” I worked my thumbs up and down the line of her spine, “I hope you don’t consider it a being deceitful.”

“Normally,” she breathed, “this would be,” she moaned, ” a fireable offense,” she let her chin fall to give me more access to her neck. “But – right there -yessss.” She didn’t finish but I took it she was willing to overlook the omission.

“Slump forward more,” I instructed, still kneading the neck and top of her shoulders. She sighed again, and leaned forward. My hands moved down but the chair blocked me.

“This isn’t working,” I muttered. “How about,” I slipped my hands under her elbows and lifted. She looked at me in askance. “Go with it,” I said with a smile.

She rose from the chair and I gently pushed her to an uncluttered corner of the table.

“Up you go,” I said.

“What?”

“Just lay down on the table. This will work a whole lot better if you do.” I answered.

“n’kay,” she said sliding her jean encased butt over the table edge before pivoting her ass to swing her legs up and rolling onto her front, presenting her prone body to me.

“Yeah, baby,” I laughed, “now we’re talking!”

She laughed in return and cushioned her head with her hands, facing the table edge with closed eyes. I wasted no time in sliding my hands onto her mid-back and pulling out the tricks of massage I had learned while in Japan. I worked on her back, gaining an appreciative sigh and moan now and then, but I knew I could do better.

“This,” I said tugging at the material of her shirt, “has to go.” If starting the massage was iffy, this was massively over the line. I held my breath.

Her eyes opened, and she looked at me without lifting her head.

“Or we can go back to work,” I offered, mentally crossing my fingers.

“Not yet,” she said, sitting up.

We kept eye contact as her fingers worked the buttons of her shirt. Suddenly she was pulling the shirt-tails free and the shirt was draped over an adjacent chair.

“You’re pretty good at this,” she said while she lowered herself to the table top.

“Years of practice,” I said, rubbing my hands to generate some heat.

“Lucky girls,” she groaned as I resumed my work.

“Lucky me,” I said, putting real pressure into her muscles now that I didn’t have the friction of the shirt to scratch her skin.

“Meeee tooooo,” she sighed.

I felt myself harden as I touched her naked skin. I was amazed at this turn of events. People thought of this woman as a dragon-lady? I decided to play a hunch.

I slipped my fingers underneath the bra strap and beşiktaş escort rubbed, the upward along the shoulders, still under the strap. I pulled the straps so they no longer were draped over her shoulders, and sunk in my thumbs, running them back down again, moving in small circles under the back strap.

“Monica,” I said, feeling her relax beneath me.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“This too,” I said, lifting the back strap. She hesitated.

“Okay,” she replied, eyes still closed.

I undid the two hooks and flipped the ends away. She waited for me to resume.

“All the way, Monica,” I urged.

Again the hesitation, again agreement, “Okay.”

She arched her back and shrugged. The bra fell to the table where it lay as she slipped first one, then the other arm free. I tugged the offending garment free and laid it over the shirt.

“Oh!” she gasped. “Kinda cold.”

My cock surged at the thought of her nipples tightening in response to contacting the cold cherry wood. Top.

“It’ll be fine,” I reassured her, “just let it warm up.” My hands went to the small of her back and worked their way up, bit by bit working the muscles until I was again at her neck. Her sighs and moans were my bread and butter. I reversed course until my fingertips were at the waistband of her jeans. I pushed them a little past, feeling the edge of her panties.

“Monica…” I said.

She didn’t reply but her hands slid from under her face to disappear beneath her waist. I heard cloth move and a short zip. Her jeans became loose.

“Good girl,” I said and saw her smile before her hands became a pillow again.

By now I was throbbing. I played a hundred fantasies through my mind as I plied her flesh. I worked her shoulders, her neck, her mid back, the ribs, arrogantly touching the sides of her breasts as they were flattened under her, then to the small of her back and the tops of her buttocks.

She was like putty and every move I made brought another groan but the timbre changed from relief to something else. I was working on her neck again when I saw she had opened her eyes. She was watching my crotch, my erection obvious. Her lips were slightly parted and her breathing was in small pants.

“Close your eyes,” I told her.

She moaned in frustration but did as she was told.

I quickly popped the buttons of my jeans free. Unlike my colleague, I had gone commando so my cock broke free easily, pushing aside the material of my pants.

“Roll over,” I said.

Without hesitation, she did as I said. Her breasts were beautiful, and I felt my cock jerk in appreciation and need. I stroked myself twice as I looked down at her. She wore jewelry in her navel, something I didn’t expect hidden behind her conservative shell.

Her breath trembled just a bit as she waited.

I touched her jaw near her right ear, closest to the table edge. She gasped and her chin rose, lips gaping a fraction more. My finger traced the line of her jaw and she took a deep breath. I lifted my finger from her skin only to lower my hand again, this time placing my thumb at the center of her swollen lower lip. I saw the tip of her tongue come into view for a split second before hurrying back.

I moved my thumb along the edge of her lip, then the upper. They opened almost as if on their own and she moved, either in anticipation of my motion or an attempt to capture my teasing digit. I moved my hand away from me, to her left, and she turned her fact to follow. Her tongue touched my thumb, sliding over it.

I brought the thumb the other way, and she continued to follow it until she was facing up again. I lifted my thumb away. Her tongue extended, questing. I lowered my hand until she tasted my flesh, moving the tip to and fro.

I moved my hand toward the table edge, pulling her with me. When she was facing me, I pushed my thickness into her mouth where she eagerly surrounded it with a groan. She washed it with her tongue, swallowing around it until I slipped it from her oral embrace but not enough to break contact. Her tongue flicked at it and as I retreated more, she extended her neck to not lose it.

I stepped forward, bringing my leg to touch the table edge. My thumb touched the head of my hard cock, her tongue still teasing at it. I pulled my hand away and pushed forward with my hips.

Her tongue touched the softness of my mushroom head and she froze with a moan that seemed to come from the depths of her being. Abruptly her mouth opened and engulfed the helmet of my cock.

It was my turn to groan.

She bobbed her head and I leaned over her to give her more. My fingers slid into her hair, not beylikdüzü escort controlling her motion, but urging her on. I stroked her neck, her throat, the jaw as it stretched open to take me in. I panted, matching my breathing to her motions which were also causing her breasts to move.

I needed more.

I stepped back, breaking free from her mouth.

“Noooo,” she slurred, swallowing her saliva.

“Hush,” I intoned, moving to stand at her head. I hooked my fingers into her armpits and pulled her toward me. Losing the support of the table, her head fell, now draped over the table edge.

“Stay,” I demanded, taking my hard shaft in my hand. She nodded, mouth open.

I rubbed my the wet bulbous head against her cheeks, then over her chin, then back across her closed eyes. I slapped her gently with it, first on the side of her face, then directly against her mouth. I teased her as I did.

“Do you want it? Do you? Tell me, Monica, tell me you want my cock, come on, tell me,” I was sliding the head against her lips, her tongue was lashing it as I did. “Uh huh” was what I heard coming from her throat, but that wasn’t enough.

“No, no, you dirty girl,” I growled, “don’t grunt at me. Use your words. Use your mouth, tell me.”

I slapped the length of my shaft against her face.

“Tell me you want some cock to suck.” I slapped her again.

“Tell me you want MY cock to suck,” SLAP.

“YES!” she shouted, grabbing the edge of the table, bringing her head up. “Give it to me, Jason, give it to me.”

“To what, you nasty little bitch? To do what?”

“To suck, you fucker, to suck your dick!”

I shoved forward, pushing into her mouth before she could adjust, and I felt her gag as I touched the back of her throat, then pulled away. She gasped for air around me.

“Then suck me, Monica, suck me and make me cum,” I said, pushing back into her mouth.

She squealed when I finally put my hands on her tits, fingers going straight to the hard, protruding nipples and pulling. Her mouth was full when I lifted her breasts away from her ribs using her nipples but she moved her head with me as I face-fucked her. Her hands caught my wrists but instead of trying to pull me from her flesh, she merely gripped them tightly while I played.

The sounds coming from her mouth were wet and obscene. I glanced down to find her face shining with escaping saliva. Her chin and cheeks gleamed with it so I naturally had to pull my cock out of her mouth to rub it against her face to enjoy the slickness. Her mouth tried, in vain, to re-capture me until I surrendered to her hunger.

Her torso was long enough that I could tongue her belly ring and nibble on her abdomen while keeping myself socketed in her hot mouth. Keeping one hand moving from one breast to the other, I pushed the other under her panties. Her legs opened as I did until my hand cupped her furred vulva. She lifted her hips and groaned so I obliged her by spreading her wet lips apart and sinking a long finger into her passage.

“GOD!” I heard and felt said around my shaft.

“Suck!” I demanded and her mouth closed around me again.

I found her clit and rolled it with one finger, then pinched it with two. With every assault, she squealed and sometimes gasped around my hardness before going back to avidly having her face fucked.

I had two fingers sunk into her pussy, hooking them over her clit and hopefully scratching her G-spot when I felt my balls tighten. I pushed her jeans and panties down and barely had time to cover her pussy with my mouth, fingers still inside, when I shoved my hips forward and exploded.

She gave a small sound of surprise which became a gulping as I shot into her throat. I doubt she tasted any of my offering as deep as I was in her mouth, feeling her throat spasm with each swallow.

I pulled my fingers out and pushed my tongue onto her clit, slashing a vicious circle around it and I felt her hands grab my back to pull me tighter. Her hips came up and I felt like my face was trying to ride a bull at a rodeo. One of my teeth cut my lip, then abused the underside of my tongue as I rode the volcano her cunt had become, my gulping joining hers.

We pushed and strained at each other until we hand nothing left to give. My cock fell out of her mouth and I stood, woozy from the effort.

She lay on the table, mouth wide to breath, a hand wiping her face, hard nipples standing tall from wet breasts, pants pushed half-way down her thighs. Her eyes were open, staring at me as my chest heaved, pulling in gouts of air to feed my body’s demands. The flicked to my drooping member and her hand reached out to trace her nails along its length.

“This,” I gasped, “may take longer than anticipated.”

She nodded dumbly.

“I hope you are free tomorrow to continue,” I said between breaths.

“I don’t have any plans,” she whispered, sliding her hand to cradle my balls.

“Good, because I sure as hell do,” I replied.

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