The Samaritans’ office was two flights of stairs above a row of shops. As Sunita keyed in the security code, she was joined at the door by Brian, fresh from a cigarette break. Immediately her racing pulse brought a flush to her skin that was thankfully camouflaged by its coffee coloured hue. “After you,” smiled the fifty-something supervisor, the swish of his hand brushing her bum.
Sunita skipped three steps ahead, that luscious butt roughly at face height. With each stride the skirt rode up higher until no more than the very top of her thigh was covered. That she was wearing no panties could not have escaped Brian. As her arse cheeks wiggled seductively, a deep sigh of lust ejected forcibly from Brian’s lips, a rush of air warming her upper thighs and pussy. Over her shoulder she made small talk, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Brian’s replies came through gritted teeth at an unnaturally high pitch. Rounding the corner to the second flight, ‘inadvertently’ Sunita pulled up sharply. With his longer strides, Brian was unable to stop in time, a rear end collision unavoidable. Sunita felt an unmistakeable bulge brush her arse, amid flustered apologies. Uncoupling, Brian marched on ahead and into the office, leaving Sunita with an impish grin.
The first hour dragged by without event, punctuated by half a dozen calls of varying degree of unimportance. Anxious to keep the line clear for Paul, Sunita gave the callers short shrift. Brian was especially fidgety, using any excuse to pass her desk, all subtlety seemingly abandoned in the pursuit of primeval lust. Almost subconsciously, she’d rise to grab something from a high shelf, providing Brian with a lingering look over her long legs, the tension building like an overloaded pressure valve in his loins.
When Brian rose agitatedly from his seat, an erection clearly visible at his middle, Sunita decided it was time to step things up a notch. As he sashayed across the office like a man on a mission, she followed into the corridor at a safe distance. As he disappeared inside the toilet, she managed to catch the door before it swung shut, glancing around furtively before squeezing through. “Oh Jesus,” resonated the almost pained sigh from inside one of the cubicles.
Sunita grinned, the threat of being caught inside the men’s loo adding to the immense thrill. The jingle of coins as Brian’s trousers fell to pool around his ankles caused her pussy to throb uncontrollably. He had his cock out and it was all on her account. “Oh fuck, yesssssss,” groaned the closeted Brian, prompting Sunita to visualise a hand wrapped around his cock and starting to tug. “Oh yes, oh yesssssss, oh yes you dirty little fucking slut of a girl.”
A stream of abuse, peppered liberally with ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘fuck’ spilled from the cubicle and Sunita felt her face warm. In the months she’d worked for the Samaritans, Brian hadn’t even issued a minor expletive. Yet here he was calling her every name under the sun. Just like the cab driver who’d fallen totally under her spell, he must have been driven half-crazed with desire, illustrated when, on the twelth stroke of his cock, an enormous grunt of pleasure radiated through the cubicle door. Sunita pictured the wad of thick cum splashing the door, his fist milking each new deposit. It was hard to resist the urge to touch her pussy, yet that would be like opening one’s presents before Christmas Day. As Brian busily unravelled the paper to clean up his mess, Sunita made herself scarce.
Back at her desk, the phone kept Sunita busy for the next hour whilst Brian’s welcome bout of relief meant less ogling. A shame, for Sunita feasted on the attention, and vice versa. The assortment of middle aged married colleagues, devoutly religious types and do-gooders might have been blind for all the heed they paid to the exhibitionist in their midst. As the clock ticked over into the third hour, Sunita yearned for Paul to call. That damned guy had a lot to answer to for doing this to her.
Another barren hour passed before her cheery greeting of: “Hello Samaritans, Sunita speaking” was met with Paul’s sensuous baritone. Immediately Sunita felt her temperature rise and a hot tingle reverberate around her juice laden cunt. His filthy talk was like an addictive drug. “What are you doing, Paul?” she implored, a finger drawn magnetically to her swollen clit, rubbing in a circle. “Oh my,” she whispered, chewing her bottom lip.
“Hmm, not much at the moment,” came the somewhat anti-climatic response, prompting Sunita to slow her frigging. “Though earlier was fun.”
Sunita’s heart raced. “Oh gosh Paul, please tell me…tell me…”
His teasing pause induced more frustration, before finally he spoke. “First I want you to do something for me.”
“Yes, anything,” she replied, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.
She could tell from the way his breathing sounded that Paul was smiling. “I want you to tell me – and your colleagues – what you are.”
Sunita’s hesitation and flustered questioning was met with the command: “I want you to tell everyone that you’re a dirty little slut, Sunita.”
“Paul! No…”
“Do it Sunita, do it now or I’ll ring off.”
Sunita paused, confused. Yet she was too horny to resist, her mind controlled by this mysterious caller. “I’m a dirty little slut,” she mouthed into the receiver, almost inaudibly.
Paul tutted. “Oh come on Sunita, you can do better than that. Louder.”
“I’m a dirty little slut,” she repeated, the words spoken at normal conversational pitch.
Yet Paul was still far from satisfied. “LOUDER! Or I put the phone down.”
Sunita took in a huge lungful of air before hollering: “I’M A DIRTY LITTLE SLUT!!”
The words caused several colleagues to glance up, odd looks, though assuming they must have misheard. Though she dared not look his way, Sunita could feel Brian’s eyes boring into her like red hot pokers. The effect on her clit was intense, the lips awash with musky scented juice as tentatively she probed. “Oh God, yes you are,” gulped Paul, the words accompanied by the swish of a zip. “You’re making me hard, you dirty little slut.”
“Oh Goddddddd…Now what happened earlier?” she implored breathlessly. “Tell me Paul, please…”
Paul paused, gathering his thoughts. “I was watching Lorna – that’s the goth one – in her room. The other two were out…”
As Sunita’s breathing reverberated in the mouthpiece, with a smile in his voice, Paul continued: “Then the doorbell rang and she returned to her room with a guy. He had his hands all over her tits and she couldn’t wait to get his cock out…”
Sunita licked her lips, easing the weight from her clit to avoid cumming too soon, instead concentrating upon the surface of each nipple through the top, rubbing eagerly and shamelessly, a quick glance over confirming she held Brian’s full attention. The material chafed in a sensuous manner, causing Sunita to suppress a gasp. “The thing is, continued Paul, “this guy with Lorna was Jo’s boyfriend, the one I told you about before. He’s been screwing them both.”
“Oh wow,” breathed Sunita, adoring the twist in the tale as a finger worked tentatively back inside her needy cunt. “Oh my…”
“Hold on a sec,” interrupted Paul, “I think someone’s at the door.”
Sunita grimaced at the interruption, extracting the embedded digit with a slurp of wet cunt. Evidently Paul’s phone had been placed face up on the side, the sound of the room hollow like a lofty church. Sunita drummed her fingers impatiently on the desk, instead of over her clit where they belonged, mentally imploring Paul to return. “Jo?” rang out Paul’s distant sounding voice.
“Oh Paul,” came the tearful reply, followed by a pause and then what sounded like a clench.
Sunita pursed her lips in frustration, exchanging a glance with Brian across the office. Visible only from the chest up, he looked back impassively. Sunita liked to hope that beneath the desk he had his cock in hand once more, stroking for her. The thought made her tingle. “What’s wrong, honey?” echoed Paul’s voice in her ear, compassionate sounding.
An outburst of tears was followed by Jo’s desperate voice. “Dave’s…Dave’s been screwing Lorna behind my back…”
Sunita’s jaw dropped as the drama unfolded on the other end of the line. Jo’s weeping was muted as if her face was buried in Paul’s chest. It was Paul that spoke, his words soothing: “It’s okay, honey…it’s okay.”
“The bastard…” whined the girl. “What has she got that I haven’t?”
Sunita imagined that the time he’d put into spying upon the pair, Paul could tell her exactly what both had, down to the last discreet tattoo and piercing. Such had been the recent obsession with the girls in his charge, shared intimately with Sunita, that both girls’ bodies surely held little mystery. “Nothing…you’re gorgeous,” he assured the sobbing girl.
“Am I?” echoed Jo’s tremulous voice, all girlie.
Sunita visualised the busty blonde standing before Paul, doe eyes appealing, lips pouting and using every feminine wile in the book. “Oh very much so,” gushed Paul. “I’ve always…”
Before the sentence could be completed, the unmistakeable sound of heightened breathing and smacking lips rang out, quickly followed by the impatient tearing off of clothes. Oh my, they’re going to fuck each other, though Sunita, plunging two fingers inside her gaping pussy. Visualising Paul pushing Jo back on the bed, falling on top of her and taking those massive mammories in hand, feeding each perky nipple into his mouth, Sunita pumped at her pussy. “Oh fuck I want you sooooooo bad, Jo,” drooled Paul between sucks.
“Fuck me hard,” ordered the girl, causing Sunita to sigh longingly. “Oh fuck, Paul, your cock is enormous…”
The phone glued to her ear, Sunita rubbed vigorously at her clit, toes digging the carpet. SHE wanted that enormous cock. The urgent slap of flesh and intense groaning suggested the coupling didn’t have long, Sunita’s own orgasm ranging in as she passed the point of no return. "Oh God, oh God, oh Goddddddd," moaned Sunita.
The double orgasm from the bedroom rang out like a thunderclap, quickly followed by Sunita’s, deliberately stifled and thus making it all the more intense. Eyes crammed tight, front teeth buried in her lip, cum gushed over her fingers, staining the front of her skirt. When her eyes opened, Brian was leering back. Quickly Sunita rushed to the toilet to clean up, glancing over at Brian. Sadly he stayed put, resisting the temptation.
The rest of the evening passed without event, the clock ticking round to eleven. Never alone with Brian, no opportunity arose to take things further. The skeleton nightshift arrived and it was time to go home. “Give you a lift anywhere, Sunita?” Brian enquired.
Oh my God, Sunita, she said to herself, accepting the offer with a blush.
“I know exactly where you want to go,” whispered Brian.
Sunita surveyed him quizzically, her pussy yearning.