Growing Concern - Part 4

Honestly Jim didn't seem surprised.  He had noticed her.  Same as everyone else had.  I guess he figured it was only a matter of time before someone barged in to his office.  He seemed a little disappointed, as if he was hoping he could keep ogling guilt free for a few more days.  But he quickly acceded that he saw the problem, and that he would take care of it.  It was nice, to finally feel like I wasn't losing my mind.  To see that someone else agreed, even if it was grudgingly.

I left feeling better, until I got back to my desk, and felt her eyes on me again.

I went through the rest of the day that way.  On edge, feeling her staring at me, struggling to focus on my work.  Trying not to wonder when the call was coming.  When she would get called in.  In hindsight I really should have kept my smirk off my face better when her phone finally rang.  And I probably shouldn't have waved to her as she got up.  And I definitely shouldn't have made a joke to Anne across the wall as she went by.  In hindsight I'm not really surprised that she did what she did.

She stopped at my desk, leaning way over.  I tried to look up at her face, but my eyes were just pulled into that cleavage, staring me right in the face.  A dark chasm that felt like it was about to swallow me whole.  She pulled me close, to whisper in my ear, my face almost touching those soft swells in front of me.  "We both know you don't really want me to cover up" she said.  "What you really want is for me to take more off.  So while I'm in there dealing with your bullshit, you can just spend your time rubbing yourself silly, wishing for just one glance of how amazing these feel without the sweater in the way."  I would like to say I tried to pull away, or tried to struggle.  Or that I didn't moan when I felt her breath on my ear, or that I didn't shudder and press my nails into my palm as her breast brushed my cheek as she walked away.

I would especially like to say that I didn't suddenly feel wetter than I had ever been.  I would certainly like to say that I didn't excuse myself before she even closed Jim' office door behind her, that I didn't run to the bathroom, that I didn't lock myself in a stall, that I didn't struggle not to scream with my panties around my ankles with one hand buried in my pussy and another savagely groping my all too inadequate breasts.  And I would definitely like to say that I was not imagining the pen, slowly stroking her cleavage, the feel of her breasts in my hand, or the soft feathery touch of it on my cheek, as I frantically rubbed myself to three shuddering, gasping orgasms in a tiny bathroom stall on the third floor of a low rent office building.

I would like to say all that.  But I can't.

It was four pm when she went to see Jim.  The office usually starts to close around then, it's likely why he waited till then to talk to her, to keep it quieter.  The die hards and stragglers start to filter out around five-thirty, with leaving it mostly empty by six.

It was nearly seven when I dragged myself out of the bathroom, to a dark and deserted office building.

The lights were out.  Just the backup generator powered safety lights were whirring away with their dull illumination.  Except for a light coming from down the hall.  Down in my wing.

I made my way back there, and started packing up my things.  Ashamed.  Trying not to think about what I had felt, thought, done.  And I saw the light coming from Jim's office.

I almost left.

I should have left.

But I needed some closure.  Wanted to know how it had gone.

It was against policy for him to talk to me about it of course.  But we were old friends.  I was sure I could get it out of him.

I should have left.

But I went to his office anyway.

I figured he was working late.  Dealing with whatever the aftermath of his conversation with Sarah was. I was right of course, but not in the way I thought.

I stopped at the half open door, looking in and not believing what I saw.  His pants were around his ankles.  She was topless.  And her breasts.. No, her tits.. Were wrapped around his throbbing, pulsing cock.  He was laid out in his chair, gasping, moaning, as she slowly worked herself up and down his twitching shaft, whispering unheard somethings to him, murmuring something I couldn't quite hear as she stroked him with those soft full mounds.

I was stunned.  I was mortified.  I was.. Aroused..  I couldn't look away.  I couldn't tear my eyes off those perfect, incredible, amazing tits that Jim had wrapped around what looked to be an incredibly hard and painful erection.  Married Jim.  Happily married with two kids who didn't even look twice at the secretaries Jim.  Might as well be a eunuch it was so hard to get a rise out of him Jim.  Was gibbering like an idiot, gasping as his cock was stroked and tugged by those gorgeous, monumental tits.

I was so busy staring at them.  At those perfect pillows of pleasure that were milking poor Jim, that I didn't even notice the woman attached to them had seen me.  Was looking at me.  Was smiling at me.

I couldn't think.  Couldn't breathe.  Couldn't move.  I couldn't begin to wrap my head around what was happening in front of me.  And, after a moment, I didn't try.

I just closed the door behind me.