Whore is Where the Heart Is

I thought the day would never end. There's nothing worse than a Valentine's Day at the office when you're the only single one in the place! An endless stream of flower deliveries, boxes of chocolates in various stages of being picked over, conversations in the elevator or the ladies room about whether tonight would be the night he would 'pop the question'. And I must admit, if I were involved with someone, I'd be enjoying the day just as much as the rest of them. But as it was, I found it sickening.

See, I'd been in a bit of a dry spell. After an ugly breakup about a year ago followed by a hot but ultimately unsuccessful rebound relationship, it had been at least six months since I'd had a date, or, well, let's just be blunt, since I'd gotten laid. And I was just coming to terms with that being OK, when the calendar turned to February, and before I knew it, here I was, suffering through Valentine's Day still alone, my giddy coworkers unwittingly rubbing my nose in their sea of red heart-shaped boxes, ribbons, and flower petals.

That morning as I'd gotten dressed for work, I tried to cheer myself up by putting on my sexiest matching red bra and panties. As I studied my form in the mirror, I couldn't help but admire how hot I looked. My fingers traced the edge of the red lace which cupped my large breasts - 36D on my otherwise slim, 5'8" frame. Naughty, I thought to myself as my hands continued their path downward, pausing to lightly stroke my clit through the lacy fabric of my panties. "Gee, Karen," I thought to myself with a chuckle, "just go to work."

And so my hot undergarments were promptly covered by my attractive, but conservatively professional work clothes - a white blouse and black skirt, with a colorful scarf around my shoulders, and sensibly low-heeled black pumps. I had a big presentation to give the next day, so hopefully my preparations for that would keep me busy and distracted. No such luck.

Try as I might to concentrate on my work, I wasn't lucky enough to have an office with a door, so was forced to sit in my cubicle in the middle of the office and hear every sappy phone call - "No, you hang up first!" - every flower delivery - "Is there a Pam Johnson? These are for you!" - and every comment on delicious chocolates from thoughtful boyfriends - "Ooh, have you tried this one? It's simply divine!"

So, back to where I started - I thought the day would never end. When it finally did, I dejectedly headed home, planning my evening as I drove. First, I'd stop at the video store, where I'd see what appealed to me for solitary viewing - would I give in and rent a romantic comedy, ending up a pitiful mess of tears and tissues? Or would I rent some horrible monster movie, and pretend it was Halloween rather than Valentine's Day? Either way, my next stop would be the grocery store, for a pint of ice cream.

Finding nothing that caught my fancy in either the romantic comedies or the horror flicks, I found myself in the documentary film aisle. Next to a very attractive man who I admit I deliberately bumped into. Not the smoothest move, I know, but it worked. I got his attention and we struck up a conversation. Just as he was telling me that his name was John and asking mine, I noticed his wedding ring. I had to laugh at my desperation as I realized that I was trying to pick up a married guy in the video store on Valentine's Day.

But before I had a chance to pull myself away and go home to wallow in self-pity, I realized that he was flirting with me. It had been a while, and I was a little rusty, but it was unmistakable. He was keeping the conversation going, he was glancing towards my bosom when he thought I wasn't looking, and he seemed not to care that he was doing this with his wedding ring on. I decided to play along, and before I knew it, we were leaving our videos behind and making our way to a restaurant down the street to have a drink.

As we started to chat over our glasses of wine, I learned that John was in town on business, just for the one night. He owned his own company, which had been doing quite well, but he found himself traveling more than he liked - when he had the opportunity to land a new client, even if it did mean being away from home on Valentine's Day, he couldn't turn it down. He did tell me more about his company, but frankly I can't remember much, as I was busy pretending to pay attention while I actually studied his body.

He was a bit older than I - I guessed 40-ish to my 30 - but in fabulous shape, as if he spent all his free time working out. He was about 6'2", with big strong hands (always a turn-on for me), wavy brown hair and deep brown eyes, and a chiseled jaw with a five-o-clock shadow.

Moving on to our second glass of wine, I realized he noticed my eyes on his body, and as I crossed and then re-crossed my legs on the barstool, my business skirt riding up higher and higher on my thigh, I knew he was checking me out as well. I kept listening to the little voice in my head, though, the one telling me not to make a move on a married guy. Somehow, the voice didn't say anything about responding if he acted first. Which he did.

At first, I thought he was starting to say that perhaps we should call it a night and go our separate ways. But no, he was suggesting we make a night of it, together.

"Karen, I really don't want to be alone tonight. And you're so incredibly hot, I haven't been able to think of anything but fucking you since we started talking. Would you like to come back to my hotel with me? No strings, since I'm leaving town in the morning - but tonight, I want you. That is, if you feel the same way..."

I just smiled, took his hand, and guided it up my inner thigh to my panties, letting the wetness between my legs speak for itself as my response. He gave me the name of his hotel and the room number, and we headed off, for the moment, going in separate directions. He would get a cab, and I would drive my car there, we had agreed. I'd give him a head start, and he'd leave the door to his room unlocked.

My heart was pounding in my chest in anticipation as I climbed into my car and drove slowly towards the hotel. Somehow, I felt no guilt about what I was about to do - the fact that he was married and virtually a stranger just seemed to turn me on even more. I had never done anything so naughty as what I was about to do tonight.

I let my hand rest on the doorknob for a few moments, taking a deep breath to calm myself before turning it and entering his room. Much to my delight, he had already stripped off his clothes and was lying, naked, on the bed. I followed suit, stripping and tossing my clothes aside so that I was down to my bra and panties by the time I reached the bed.

"Oh, god, Karen, you're so sexy in that red lace!"

I climbed onto the bed, kneeling above him and taking his still-flaccid cock into my hands. As I began to stroke him, his cell phone rang on the table next to the bed. He grabbed it, and I could tell by the quick look of guilt that flashed across his face, that it must be his wife. He didn't answer, responding instead as I took the tip of his cock into my mouth, still stroking his shaft and balls with my hands.

A minute later, his phone rang again. Pulling away from his cock for a moment, I hissed at him to answer it - I knew he wouldn't be able to enjoy himself with his phone ringing all night. I also had a strange thought that it might just be a turn-on for me, sucking him off while he talked.

"Hi, honey! Huh? Oh, sorry, I just got out of the shower, didn't know you called... What? Yeah, everything went fine, it was a good meeting. Did you have a good day? That's good."

As he struggled to maintain his composure on the phone, I went at him with more enthusiasm, ridiculously turned on by the naughtiness of what I was doing. He was now fully erect, and I was attempting to engulf his entire length.

"Hey, listen, honey, I'm really tired, I think I'm going to turn in now. But I'm glad you called. Happy Valentine's Day! OK. Love you too, I'll see you tomorrow."

He flipped his phone closed, tossed it across the room, and released the tension which had built up as he controlled his voice while talking with his wife. "Oh, god, Karen, yes, suck my cock!"

He wrapped his fingers around my cascading strawberry-blond curls, until he had pulled all of my hair into one ponytail and could use it to guide my motions on his cock. I forced myself to relax, and before long, he was bottoming out in the back of my throat, and thrusting faster and faster into me. "God, yes, that's it, I'm going to cummmmmmmmmm!"

He shot his load, more than I could swallow, and I was soon covered in his cum - it was dripping out of the corners of my mouth, landing on my tits. "That was incredible, Karen, the best blow job I've had in a long time. I think it's time I return the favor."

He sat up, flipped me over onto my back, and positioned himself on his knees above me. He began with my breasts, kneading them first through the fabric of my bra and then pulling that lacy fabric down so that my tits popped free. Obviously delighted at their size, he dove in, sucking first one nipple and then the other as one of his hands made its way to my panty-covered pussy.

My panties were soaked by this point, turned on as I was by our elicit encounter. He quickly shoved the fabric aside, and I let out a huge sigh as his fingers first touched my clit. Easily lubricated by my juices, he began stroking me quickly with two fingers. It wasn't long before he had to tear his attention away from my tits and focus entirely on my pussy, bucking and grinding beneath him as I was.

Scooting down on the bed so he could service me properly, he started by teasing me with a few quick licks to my clit. I couldn't stand the suspense, and grabbed his head, pushing his face against my sex. He responded quickly, beginning a slow and steady motion with his tongue on my clit, as a few fingers found their way into my pussy. I had my first small orgasm almost immediately, hungry as I was for a man to eat me out - it had been too long.

But he rode through that with me, continuing to lick and suck and finger me, until I was soon on the verge of a much more powerful orgasm. Just before I was ready to cum, he pulled away from me, flipped me over again so that I was on all fours in front of him, and prepared to enter me from behind.

Letting me come down from my heights of pleasure, and giving himself a chance to harden up, he held his cock in his hand, guiding it along my pussy lips. The right moment seemed to come at the same time for both of us, and he thrust his hard cock into me in one smooth motion. After we had established a steady rhythm, he reached around and took one of my tits into each of his hands, kneading them as he fucked me.

Since we had both cum already, we were able to fuck for what seemed like hours, building up almost to a climax before slowing down or changing positions for a new sensation. His long, hard cock filled me delightfully, and we took turns being the one to generate the motions.

Finally, it was time. We returned to our original position, doggy style providing the best penetration, and he began thrusting hard and fast.

He placed his big, strong hands on my hips and used his grip to reach an even deeper level of penetration than we had found before. Once our rhythm was established, he moved one hand to my clit, and began flicking his fingers across it. "Are you ready to cum, Karen? I want us to cum together!"

"Oh, god yes, John - just keep doing what you're doing, I won't last much longer!"

"Aaaaahhhh, Karen, I'm cummmmmmming!"

Just as he shot his load into my pussy, my own orgasm overtook me with wave after wave of pleasure. I collapsed into the bed, and must have fallen asleep before I even realized it.

I hadn't necessarily planned to stay the whole night in a strange man's hotel room, but obviously our intense fucking session took its toll, so it was indeed morning before I woke up. After studying John's sleeping face on the pillow next to mine, and running my fingers over my own skin, remembering the pleasure of the night before, I remembered something else - my big presentation at work! And judging by the light coming through the windows, I was going to be late if I didn't get moving right away!

Looking at my watch, I realized I could still be on time, but it would mean going straight to work - with no chance to shower, or to go home and change. I hoped none of my coworkers would notice the fact that I was wearing the same clothes as the day before!

Once I was dressed and ready to go, I gave John a peck on the cheek (what a sound sleeper he was!) and left my business card on the pillow next to him, with a note scrawled on the back, something about calling me if he was ever in town again. And then I was on my way.

20 minutes later, I was at my desk, pulling together my papers for the presentation, when Julie, who had the desk next to mine, gave me an odd look and said, "Isn't that the same outfit you were wearing yesterday, Karen?"

"Um, well, yes, I guess it is! What do you know."

Smiling as I walked away towards the conference room, I realized I could take pleasure in the fact that my night of passion was likely substantially more hot than that of any of my committed co-workers. Maybe Valentine's Day wasn't so bad after all.

Halftime Show

The afternoon began innocently enough, with a gathering of friends, eating good food and looking forward to the game. And things ended with a great come-from-behind win by the underdog Giants, more food and drink, and friends parting ways again, wishing each other well until they met again. The middle was where things got interesting.

I should probably introduce myself before diving into this confession. My name's Jane, and I'm 26 and single. I've had a few short flings with 'Mr. Right Now' over the past few years, but still haven't found 'Mr. Right'. In place of that fulfillment, I tend to throw myself into my work. I also tend to have more guy friends than girl friends - you'll often see me at the bar with the guys after work, as I'd rather shoot the breeze with them than go shopping with the girls. And I generally enjoy my role as the girl who's considered 'one of the guys'.

And I'm a huge sports fan - which is how I came to be invited to my friend Steve's Super Bowl party, as the only unattached person there. Steve invited his friends Jim and Rob, and all three guys brought their girlfriends - Sarah, Michelle, and Kate, respectively. They were all nice, I'd met them before, but they definitely weren't football fans, and promptly congregated in the kitchen, where I was sure they'd stay and chat through most of the game.

So this is how the afternoon began, with me and the guys in the living room, getting a quick start on the beers in front of Steve's big-screen TV, and the girlfriends blabbering in the kitchen and occasionally bringing out a new platter of food. The first half was fairly uneventful, unless you were Tom Brady, in which case you found yourself quite busy being dropped by the Giants' defense.

At halftime, the girls piled into the room, each claiming a seat next to their respective boyfriend, and we chatted about the ads during the game and how much we each liked or hated Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. Today, after a few days to ponder my actions, I realize it was probably right about then that the sheer quantity of beer I had consumed overcame my better judgment.

As the guys made a playful attempt to raise the ire of their girlfriends by praising the hotness of the cheerleaders, I was overcome by the desire to prove to these guys that I could be just as sexy. While the other women in the room responded to the guys as you might expect, with playful mock punches in the shoulder or brief feminist lectures about the negative message cheerleading sends to young girls, I leapt off the couch, stood in front of the TV, and began a half-silly, half-sexy dance to the music of the halftime show.

Steve chuckled, and Kate even cheered me on, realizing I'd gotten the last laugh on the guys. Slowly, in time with the music, I unbuttoned a few buttons of my blouse, giving the guys the occasional glimpse of my 36C tits in a sexy black lacy bra. I had always been proud of my tits, and judging by the erections that began to grow for both Jim and Rob, I was right to be...

Wait - the guys were actually turned on watching me dance for them? As Sally and Michelle went back to the kitchen, obviously not able to stand the heat in the living room, I found myself reveling in the fact that I had made these guys hot with my little strip-tease. They actually found me sexy? Not just one of the guys to pal around with? I decided to see how far I could take this.

I sat back down on the couch next to Steve. He and I chatted for a few minutes as we watched the show, and then he headed into the kitchen to start the burgers - the girls had done all the rest of the cooking, but when it came to good old-fashioned meat like burgers or steaks, Steve always insisted on being in charge.

With him gone, I decided it was time to see whether Jim or Rob would actually follow through on what their cocks had started. I got up and made a rather obvious point of the fact that I was headed for the game room. Steve had a great pool table, as well as a couple of vintage arcade games. Once in the room, I took one more risk - if anyone did follow me here, it could only be for one reason, so I proceeded to take off my jeans and leave them on the edge of the pool table.

I picked up a pool cue and racked up the balls, and then proceeded to break, leaning over the table wearing just my unbuttoned blouse and matching black lace bra and panties. After a few more shots (jeez, I'm a lousy pool player, especially after several beers!) I heard footsteps approaching in the hallway. Who would it be? At this point, I was so turned on I would have fucked anyone who walked through that door - even one of the girls - but I have to admit I was particularly pleased to see Jim.

He had a sexy, athletic build, about 6'2" with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes. He was obviously pleased with what he saw as he entered the room, as he quickly approached me and pulled me into an embrace. "I was admiring these," he said as he took my tits in his hands, "wondering how good they'd feel."

"And?" I asked, rubbing his cock through his jeans.

"Just as good as I'd hoped. My god, Jane, I never realized how hot you were!"

One hand now left my breasts and shifted to my leg, stroking first my inner thigh, then rubbing my panty-covered clit. As I enjoyed his touch, I let his cock go just long enough to unfasten his belt and unbutton his fly. As soon as I had his bulging cock free of his boxers, I went down to my knees and took him into my mouth.

Inspired by the risk of being caught to work quickly and quietly, I bobbed up and down on his length in long, smooth strokes. He wrapped his fingers around my long red hair, gathering it into two ponytails, and gently guided my motions until I was taking his entire shaft into my mouth, gagging slightly as he pressed into my throat.

Once I got used to having his whole length pressing into my throat, I began to fondle his balls as well, and he quickened his pace, thrusting in and out of my mouth much faster than before. I had always loved to suck cock, and I was thoroughly enjoying sucking Jim's, but I also wanted him inside of me. I wanted him to press me against the pool table and enter me from behind, and then fuck my brains out. Would he agree?

Pulling away from his cock, I looked up, still on my knees, and asked, "Should I stop here, so you have something left to fuck my tight little pussy?"

He responded by pulling me up off my knees, hoisting me up onto the edge of the pool table, and rubbing his cock against my panty-covered clit. I couldn't wait any longer, and pushed my panties to one side, guiding his cock into my waiting pussy. I wrapped my legs around him as he began thrusting into me, one hand working my clit as well.

"Oh, god yes, Jim, that's so good. I want you to fill me, give me your cock! I want you to fuck me from behind too, and fill my pussy with your cum. Do you understand?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Hey," said a new voice, "What are you two up to in here, anyway?"

Just as quickly as Jim and I had found a rhythm, we froze in place, his cock buried inside of me, as we both turned to see Rob standing in the doorway.

Before either Jim or I knew what to say or do, Rob spoke again, "Don't worry, I won't tell, as long as you let me join in the fun and festivities!"

As Rob quickly unzipped his jeans and stepped out of them and his boxers, Jim hoisted me back down off the pool table. Rob leaned against the table, and I started to get down on my knees to suck him, but Jim caught my arm, keeping me on my feet. As he came up behind me, I spread my legs and bent down at the waist to take Rob's cock in my mouth. Jim gave his cock a rest and began pleasuring me with his fingers, lubricating them easily with my juices, and then finger-fucking me fast and hard as I bobbed up and down on his friend's cock.

Once Rob was fully hard, I straightened up again and we changed positions. Jim climbed onto the pool table and knelt in front of me as I took him into my mouth, spreading my legs so that Rob could slowly press into me from behind. I could hardly believe that I was in this situation, fucking and sucking two guys at once, and found it to be an incredible turn-on. I had my first orgasm in this position, with Rob pounding me from behind and reaching around to stroke my clit as Jim forced his cock deep into my throat.

After coming down from my first release, I decided it was time to make the most of the situation and live out a long-time fantasy of mine: double penetration. I tried to come up with a clever football-related way of asking whether they'd be into such a scenario, but finally gave up and just came out with the question.

"So, guys, I'm feeling really slutty, and would love to have you both fucking me at the same time. Would you be up for something like that?"

"Isn't that what we're doing now?" Jim asked.

"No, I don't mean fucking my mouth..."

Jim seemed a little shocked, but Rob quickly replied, "Oh, yeah, Jane, anything you want. I'd love to fuck your tight little asshole until I cum. Jim, you're more old-fashioned, you can have her pussy."

While Jim watched, Rob again pushed me down, my hands and forearms on the pool table, and spread my legs further apart. He lubricated two fingers in my pussy juices and began pressing them against my asshole. After I relaxed enough to allow him in, he quickly shifted from his fingers to his cock, very slowly pressing into me, inch by inch. I had to quite literally bite my tongue to keep from crying out in a combination of pain and pleasure.

Once he was buried inside of my ass, he gradually pulled me into a standing position and I lifted my foot up to the edge of the pool table, changing the angle and sensations in my ass, and giving Jim better access to enter my pussy. Jim had climbed down off the table and was stroking himself as he watched us, and was now obviously quite ready. Kneading my tits as he did so, he pressed into me slowly, letting me catch up with the sensations of two cocks inside me at once.

I couldn't believe the incredible feeling of tightness, of fullness. A moment's pain was quickly replaced with an incredible wave of sensations as they began taking turns moving inside of me. Rob moved very little, instead circling my waist with his arms, holding me upright as I began to lose control.

Jim, originally shocked at this scenario, was now thrusting hard and fast into my wet pussy. I started talking dirty to him to spur him on. "Do you like fucking a dirty little slut like me with your girlfriend right in the next room? I want you to make me cum, do you hear me? Fuck me harder, and fill me with your cum!"

Rob was the first to cum, his cock overwhelmed by the combination of my tight ass and the feel of Jim's cock also inside of me. After shooting his load, he remained inside of me, maintaining my incredible sensations as I experienced one of the most powerful orgasms of my life.

As I bucked uncontrollably on both men's cocks, Jim finally came as well, filling my pussy with more cum than it could handle, leaving streaks dripping down my inner thighs as he pulled out of me. The three of us gradually pulled apart and collapsed against the edge of the pool table, recovering from the incredible fucking session.

Once we remembered where we were and that we should probably rejoin the group in the living room - one at a time - we got dressed and came up with our subtle living room re-entry plan.

In spite of our sneaky return - Rob went first, Jim then pretended to be coming from the bathroom, while I waited a few extra minutes - I was sure the others in the room would notice my flushed cheeks, would smell the sex on my skin as I sat down next to them.

But before long, the game got exciting - that great fourth quarter with the Giants' comeback, complete with the spectacular pass by Eli and equally incredible catch by... that's right, David Tyree. The girls - seemingly oblivious to my sexual exploits with two of their boyfriends - actually seemed to enjoy the end of the game. Everyone had a bit more to eat, and then we were on our separate ways.

A few different thoughts raced through my head as I arrived home that evening. Would I be able to reprise my role as 'one of the guys'? Just how many beers had I actually had, and how much of a headache would I have the next morning? And maybe I should go to Steve's Oscar party this year after all?

Confessions of an Office Slut Ch.2

Hey guys, I'm back! I hope you'll forgive me, it's been a few weeks since my last confession; that was my first, when I admitted to being an office slut.

Fortunately for all those who've written me, asking for more stories, my behavior hasn't improved - I'm still the same cum-hungry, cock-sucking slut you met last time around. Still the coworker thought by most to be a goody-goody workaholic, but known to one as a naughty little whore who will drop everything for a few moments of pleasure. And I thought it was about time I shared another confession, another true story of my naughty behavior at work.

A few years back, I was given a promotion, complete with my own office, with a door that locked and a window with shades. For the most part my door was wide open and my window uncovered. Occasionally, though, I took advantage of the privacy to indulge my sexual desires, or more importantly those of my coworker and his stiff cock, right in the middle of the work day.

Sometimes it was a phone call that caused me to close my door. A phone call from the owner of that cock. He would ask me to talk dirty to him, and I would oblige, slipping into a naughty tone as soon as my door latched, and telling him how much I wanted to suck his big, hard cock. As always, he loved to push me to my limit, drawing out of me coarser and dirtier language until I surprised myself with the words that came out of my own mouth. But I was never shocked or embarrassed - instead, just that much more turned on. As the thrill of my own naughtiness combined with the sound of his voice to get me all hot and bothered, I would slip one hand under my skirt, reaching a finger or two into my panties to stroke my clit.

Sometimes, he'd give me instructions to meet him somewhere for one of our elicit encounters. Sometimes, when I mentioned that my boss had gone home early, he would stop by. There was There was always some pretense of real work, just in case another coworker happened to come to my office, but I knew why he was really there.

On one particular occasion, a few months back, he came into my office, sat in the chair across from my desk, and asked if I was ready. Ready to get him hard in my mouth, ready for him to bend me over my desk and fuck me from behind, and ready to suck him off when he was ready to cum. As I eagerly replied that I was more than ready to do whatever he asked, he closed and locked my door, and I reached for the shades on my window.

He sat down in my office chair and I knelt in front of him as he unfastened his belt, unzipped his slacks, and pulled out his half-hard cock. "No hands" was his simple instruction, meaning that I was to use only my mouth. This was easy at this stage, when I could take his entire length into my mouth with little effort. But after a few moments of stroking his cock with my tongue, he began to grow longer and harder, and his thick member was soon more than I could handle without letting some of the length slip out of my mouth.

Again pushing me just to my limit, he gathered my long blonde hair in his fingers, scooping it into a ponytail and using it to force me down onto his bulging cock until I gagged as he entered my throat. He held me there, then slowly began fucking my mouth, giving me room to breathe. I took his balls in one hand, gently rolling them in my fingers, and wrapped the fingers of my other hand around the base of his shaft, squeezing as my mouth continued to accept his thrusts.

He now reached down, forced his hands inside my blouse, and took one of my nipples in each hand, squeezing hard. As I gasped at this painful pleasure - he knew I enjoyed his firm touch - he slowed his fucking to long, deep thrusts. I could feel the wetness grow between my legs as I remembered the scenario he had suggested to me - it couldn't be much longer before we shifted positions and he took me from behind.

As soon as this thought crossed my mind, he pulled out of my mouth and stood up, lifting me up off my knees as he did so. Spinning me around so that I faced my desk, he told me to put my forearms down on the desk and arch my back. He hiked my skirt up to my waist, pushed my panties aside, and I instinctively spread my legs as he found my clit with his strong fingers. Finding me already completely wet, he thrust his hard cock into me with one fast stroke, and I couldn't help but moan as he filled me.

Pausing each time to enjoy the feeling of my tight pussy, he made several thrusts, holding me by the hips and forcing my weight back towards him with each stroke. I wanted to cry out in pleasure, but had to control myself, the occasional footsteps and voices outside my door reminding me of my surroundings. We were walking a delightful tightrope - the thrill of getting caught raised our level of pleasure - but the reality of getting caught wasn't anything either of us actually wanted to experience.

I pulled myself up so that just my hands were still touching the desk, and he whispered in my ear, asking if I was ready to taste my own juices, to lick his cock clean before finally sucking him off. I hissed back towards him with an enthusiastic yes, and he pulled out of me, once again spun me around, and I returned to my knees. This time, though, he was standing, his cock jutting straight out from his body.

Using just my tongue, I took a few inches of his length into my mouth, looking up at him with pure lust in my big blue eyes as I tasted my own juices, both sweet and salty. Clearly, though, he was in no mood for gentle touches, and he again grabbed my hair and pushed much more of his length into my mouth. "Relax," he whispered, as he found himself fighting my clenched throat. Letting go of my hair and putting one hand on each of my shoulders, he massaged the tension away, allowing more and more of his length to penetrate my mouth, until he bottomed out, his balls hitting my chin and the tip of his cock well into my throat.

"God, that feels so good," he moaned as he maintained that position for what felt like an eternity before again pulling out and beginning to fuck my mouth in long, smooth strokes. I could feel my own juices trickling out of my exposed pussy and down my inner thigh, my clit longing for attention as I sucked his cock. But both of my hands were soon busy with the task at hand - bringing him to orgasm - as I again cupped his balls and jacked off the base of his cock as he fucked me faster and faster.

"Are you going to let me cum in your mouth? Are you going to swallow every drop for me?"

"Hmmmmmm," was all I could answer, his cock was now thrusting in and out of my mouth so quickly. As his motions and hushed breathing became more uneven, it was all I could do to keep hold of his cock and keep it in my mouth. But I was such a cum-hungry slut, I would do anything at this point to make him cum and swallow every drop.

"Oh, god, yes, that's it! Uhhh, uhhhhhhhhhh," he whispered as he shot his load, an overwhelming amount of cum, some of it trickling out of the corners of my mouth as I tried to swallow it all. He remained in my mouth for a few moments more, and I gently traced my tongue around his cock, causing it to twitch and jerk inside my mouth as he enjoyed the last sensations of his orgasm.

"Thank you, that was nice," he said with a smile as I pulled myself up from my slightly tired knees and stood before him, adjusting my panties and pulling down my skirt. "Now," he said with authority as he zipped up and buckled his belt, "time for you to get back to work."

With a whimper - I had loved sucking him off, but was still frustrated myself - I agreed, and he moved towards the door. Not quite ready to see him leave, I positioned myself between him and the door, and he responded by grabbing my nipples firmly. "Do you need some discipline?"

"Well, I have been a very naughty little slut," I whispered huskily into his ear.

"Yes, indeed, you've been a very dirty girl. Which is exactly why you need to get back to work. You might have to take matters into your own hands later, but for now, I want to see you accomplish something."

"OK," I grinned back at him, loving this little game we played.

And with that, he opened the door and stepped back into the hallway, launching into the middle of a work-related sentence as if we were finishing up a meeting - for the benefit of anyone who might have been listening. Once he was out of sight, I did indeed go back to work, hard as it was for me to concentrate with my pussy still dripping and my clit still pulsing. There would be time for that later, I told myself - I had a few nice toys waiting for me at home.

Wine Tasting

My name's Bianca, and I'm a 21-year-old future vintner. Yes, as bizarre as most of my friends and family back home thought it was, I had always wanted to make wine. A few years back, I had packed up, left home (the midwest), and moved out to California, where I was now studying. My studies were twofold. I was enrolled in a viticulture program at the university, earning some credentials, and also had a job at a small winery, earning some experience.

My job at the winery included anything and everything that the owners needed - which sometimes meant actually working with with the grapes, but other times, like today, just keeping the tasting room and shop going. These were my least favorite days. The endless stream of young couples from the city, who knew nothing about wine, except that it was supposed to be romantic to take your date out wine-tasting. The occasional wine snob who would treat me like I knew nothing and talk my ear off about the biz. The tourists who stopped just to use the restroom or ask for directions.

But I'd always sigh, suck it up, and put on my helpful customer service face, knowing that this was all good experience that would serve me in the future, when I someday owned my own winery! So anyway, today was one of those days. 78 and sunny, a peaceful breeze, and a steady stream of customers. By about four in the afternoon, with a couple of hours to go before I could close, I was getting hot and weary of the rush of ignorant people. And I had only sold two bottles of wine, in spite of the innumerable bottles I'd opened for tasting.

And then he came in. I recognized him immediately, even though he had aged a bit from his press picture that I was so familiar with. See, he was a bit of a celebrity in the world of wine, a writer who had made a name for himself as a knowledgeable connoisseur who was interested in making good wine more accessible to the masses. He had recently written a best-selling book which aimed to explain the world of wine - from the difference between red and white to the finer points of tasting and food-matching - to the average man on the street.

And because I was such a wine geek, I had read the book cover to cover, and was so impressed that I also had been following his blog online and his occasional features in newspapers or magazines. As I read his work, I always found myself thinking that he was the kind of man I wanted to be with, in spite of the fact that he was at least 20 years older than I was. He was educated, cultured, sophisticated - but also down-to-earth, not afraid to go all-out when it really counts. Most men I found, it seemed, offered one but not the other.

Still in my world of daydreams as he approached me, I'm sure I blushed as he introduced himself.

"Hello there, my name is Jeff..."

"Yes, sir, I know who you are! I'm familiar with all your work. What an honor to have you here in the shop!" I knew I was babbling like an idiot, but couldn't seem to stop myself. "My name is Bianca. See, my parents met during a production of 'Othello' and couldn't help but give me a Shakespearean name. But, I'm sorry, you probably don't care about that, what brings you to California?"

Smiling, obviously charmed rather than irritated by my babbling, he replied, "Bianca? Well, it could have been worse. They could have named you Desdemona, and that really would have been a curse, don't you think?"

I couldn't help but giggle, and then blushed again as I caught myself checking him out as he talked to me.

"But anyway, what brings me to California is that I'm putting together another book. After the success of my first, which you're obviously familiar with, I thought I'd attack another project, this time about white wines in California."

"Oh, what a great idea! I was so inspired by your column last year about sauvignon blanc - I never used to drink whites myself, but after what you wrote about pairing the blanc with seafood, especially when served with garlic and parsley, I'm hooked!"

Pulling myself back from gawking schoolgirl to winery professional for a moment, I asked if he'd like to try our blanc, which was really quite good.

He agreed, and as he began sampling a few of the winery's selections, I babbled at him again. "I've actually made use of your book for my work here. When I have a particularly clueless customer, I use your advice about how to taste to make them feel more at home."

"Ah, you mean the simple steps - color, aroma, taste, finish." His piercing blue eyes met mine as he spoke, methodically tasting, sipping in between each phrase. He was really quite handsome - a bit more gray hair than his picture, which only served to add distinction to his remarkably fit, well-dressed mid-40s persona.

I watched his expressive hands as he continued to taste and share his comments about the wines, and could feel myself blushing again. I was imagining those hands covering my body, tracing the line of my breasts, working up my inner thigh. Just as I caught myself, brought myself back to the here and now, I realized he was on the same page.

"So, tasting always begins with studying the color of the wine. Judging by your color right now, you find me attractive and you're having trouble focusing on the wine."

As I blushed even hotter at his remark, he walked a few steps towards me, pulling in close and looking down into my face as he continued, "And then we take in the wine's aroma. Yours tells me that you're already wet and ready for action."

Before he could go on, I put a finger to his lips, signaling that I could take it from there. Quoting from his book, but in a sexy new context, I said to him, "Next, there's a real difference between just swallowing and actually tasting - it's all in the technique.

Dropping to my knees in front of him as he unzipped his pants, I slowly took his cock into my mouth. Applying his theories of successful wine-tasting to my cock-sucking technique, I aimed to please. I began slowly, taking my time and making sure that I explored every inch of his length with every part of my tongue. As he put it in his book, the inside of the mouth and throat can each detect different aspects of the wine... or cock...

As soon as I had taken his entire length into my mouth, and bottomed out with his cock was deep in my throat, he gently took hold of my long blond hair, formed it into a ponytail, and began moving my head back and forth as he fucked my mouth. Technique quickly went out the window as I succumbed to his control, and his thrusts came faster and harder. I cupped his balls in my hands, rolling them gently in contrast to his quick fucking, and this seemed to bring him even closer to the brink of ecstasy.

Before long, he began bucking his hips more wildly, and I knew he was close to cumming. Committed to the sexiness of the wine-tasting scenario, I was determined to swallow every drop of his cum. He cried out - jeez, we were lucky that no other customers had entered the store! - and shot his load, and I did indeed manage to keep it all in my mouth, savoring the flavor before swallowing.

I stood up, and with the most serious look I could manage, said "Quite an outstanding blend of sweet and salty flavors, obviously a very good vintage!"

He smiled, reached down, and pulled my sundress up and over my head, leaving me in just my bra and panties. Just in case anyone did come into the shop, I took his hand and led him through a door into the office, shut the door, and promptly slithered out of my panties while he unhooked my bra and began kneading my tits.

I pulled in closer to him, took his half-hard cock in my hands, and stroked it against my pussy lips. In case this wasn't a strong enough hint, I hissed at him, "I want you to fuck me, right here, right now!"

Jeff responded instantly, lifting me up in a smooth easy motion, and lowering me down onto his cock. As I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist, he began pushing into me slowly and gently. Adding to the wonderful feeling of weightlessness, he took one of my tits into his mouth and began sucking my nipple as he fucked me - a delightful combination of sensations that soon had me moaning with pleasure.

Before long, though, we both longed for deeper penetration and more intensity. He lowered me down to the floor, and I walked across the room to the big desk, a computer on one side and a few bottles of wine on the other. I shoved aside a few papers, put my forearms down on the desk, and spread my legs for him, looking back over my shoulder invitingly.

He reached me in just a few quick strides, and thrust powerfully into my tight pussy with one smooth motion. Once there, filling me completely, he began a fast and furious fucking, reaching both hands around my torso to play, alternately, with my clit and my tits. Once this became more effort than he could manage as he approached another orgasm, he simply grabbed my hair again and used it to drive my motions back and forth on his pulsing cock.

"Are you ready, Bianca? I want to cum with you, so I need you to tell me when you're ready, OK?"

"I'm almost there, Jeff. Oh, god yes, I love your cock inside me. Fuck me harder, and stroke my clit again!"

He quickly responded, bringing one hand around to massage my clit with one finger as he pounded into me from behind, doggy style. After just a few moments, I was ready. "Yes, Jeff, that's it, I'm going to cummmmmm!!!"

"Oh, god, Bianca, I'm cumming too. Yes, yes, yesssssssss!"

He collapsed on top of me, both of us panting, spent with sexual exertion. We gradually recovered ourselves, found our clothes and dressed, and made our way back to the main room of the shop. I looked up at the clock and realized that it was late enough for me to close. Seeing me do this, he asked, "So, this isn't usually the order of events, but would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

"I'd love to! Perhaps some seafood with sauvignon blanc?"

"Well, after that workout, I think I'm more in the mood for a steak and a hearty cabernet. Hell, maybe even a beer."