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A wife's oral sex fantasy.

Someone might notice, someone no me, and it would be very embarrassing for you."

I nodded my head.

"Now get to work Mr. Robb."

I exited the room with a hard on.

Over the next few weeks I held my eyes in check, evading Mrs. Crowley's swaying as much as I could. I didn't know what to make of our little meeting. I think it was merely a warning for me to be careful and not become known as someone who is constantly stalking or voyeuring a person of the female persuasion. There are policies against such things, as you can imagine.

Still, I loved to sneak glances when I could at the women. I particularly liked it when she wore a flared tartan skirt with stockings. It was a modest skirt, to her knees, but it accentuated her ass and I loved the way it flowed from side to side when she swayed down the hallway. I wondered if she wore pantyhose or thigh high stockings.

My imagination, late at night in bed, had her in a garter belt and stockings and wanting me to inspect and kiss her ass before bending her over her office desk and taking her hard and fast. That's how my orgasm came, hard and fast from thinking of her in such situations.

Almost two months to the day I was moping around work. My wife had gone to visit her mother for a week, and I was bacheloring around and a bit lonely. Sitting at my desk late one night I attempted to finish up some things for the next day when I was startled by a sound from down the hall.

It was Mrs. Crowley, and she was swearing.

Hurrying down to her office, I asked if I could help.

"It's this damn printer. Jammed again. I need this report first think in the morning and, well, shit ..."

I examined the faulty machine, trying everything I knew. Nothing seemed to work until I pulled apart one piece of the overhang and shut it. Voila, it worked!

"You are a lifesaver, Mr. Robb! Thank you."

It was at this time I noticed the woman was simply lovely. She must have come back to the office after having gone home and changed, because she was in a stunning black cocktail dress that featured a plunging neckline which accentuated her breasts. She was adorable.

"You are staring again, Mr. Robb, I thought I talked to you about that."

"I can't help myself, you look so beautiful."

The woman shook her head. "You are incorrigible."

Sometimes the stars are aligned, sometimes lightening strikes. Who knows why?

On this night the planets were in perfect order, I rolled seven sevens in a row. I hit the lottery and a jackpot at the same time.

"My husband said I was fat."

"My wife said I will never amount to anything."

We looked at each other and laughed. "He's so wrong," I said. "So is she," said Mrs. Crowley.

My co-worker, an executive of the firm, looked at me for a minute, and then said quietly, "I need a hug."

What's a guy to do? I hugged her.

That hug lasted a minute, at which time my hands started slowly down her back. I felt like a kid in high school in the basement with a girl for the first time. Slowly my hands crept down her back, waiting to be stopped. Waiting for her to push me away. Waiting for her to remind me we were married and that while a hug was nothing, that wandering hands was really something.

Mrs. Crowley began pulling away. She looked into my eyes, smiled that smile and then moved toward me again. I kissed her, locking lips, exchanging tongue lashes while my hands began their downward travels. Soon I was cupping her ass while passionately kissing the woman I had been dreaming about.

We kissed for a few minutes while I explored her ass with my hands. It was incredible, firm yet soft. I remember wondering what kind of panties she had on under the dress. Soon, though, she broke the kiss.

"We shouldn't be doing this."

"I know."

"But I have been thinking of you, your staring at my ass," said the woman.

"Mrs. Crowley..."



"Close the door."

I walked over to the door, looked around, closed and locked the door to her office.

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