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It was a warm sunny day. In fact, the weather had been wonderful for several days. The sun poured through the slats of the Venetian blinds across the polished teak desk in Joanne’s outer office, where she was sitting reading the screen of her computer. The sales office was quiet. It was lunch-time and most of the staff were out, or closeted in their office with a sandwich and cup of tea. Joanne had been expecting her boss to arrive for lunch time, but a phone call had explained that he was delayed in London and likely to be an hour late.
Joanne had always kept herself to herself. Well, certainly at work, which was encouraged by her boss, the Financial Director, to avoid office tittle-tattle with other staff. In any case, she was a self-confessed snob, and had very little in common with the others. At 188 lbs, she was quite a big girl – though by no means fat. Just well-built. She carried her wide hips, large shapely bottom and considerable breasts with style and elegance, having been properly ‘finished’ in Switzerland. She knew how to present herself to make the most of her figure.
Whilst not exactly beautiful in the accepted sense, she had strikingly attractive features. She reminded those who remembered her films, of the French Actress Simone Signoret , with her sultry looks and wide sensual mouth with full lips. Her brown eyes were set rather more apart than was considered perfect, with a straight, rather wide nose.
Joanne was the only daughter of a local land owner, Ernest Forsythe, with a string of race horses. He was the local Master of Hounds, and his old friend and ‘best man’ at his wedding, Arthur Gifford-Smith, happened to be the Financial Director of a multi-national company. He had persuaded Ernest to allow Joanne to become his secretary, partly because of her breeding, but also because he admired her figure. It would be nice to have her around the office. And Joanne thought it might be rather fun, besides earning extra cash, always welcome spending money. So she accepted.
As it turned out, it was far from being fun. It was uninteresting and dull, though the generous salary made it worth the effort of getting to the office each day. Her boss was rarely in there, and she had the impression that she herself was just window-dressing, boosting his image of importance in the company. With little to do, she read a lot!
Joanne had known for a while that her husband flirted with other ladies, but didn’t really mind, providing she got the benefit of his stimulation later in bed. She watched him at parties, trying to feel up the young slim girls, whilst she herself fended off advances from unwanted older stallions. Their marriage had been one of convenience for their families, really, and, though she got on reasonably well with her husband, sex had never topped their list of priorities. Perhaps he even had one-night stands whilst away on business. But providing he brought no nasty disease home with him, she wasn’t too worried.
Her ‘society wedding’ with Rodney in the local cathedral, had been exciting for her. She looked magnificent in her expensive wedding dress. The marriage, however, had soon became fairly open between the couple, after Rodney had agreed for Joanne to have a reasonable amount of financial freedom in exchange for her turning a blind eye to his amorous excursions. He was discreet about it, thank goodness. And so was she. Joanne had some expensive clothes to show for her understanding, and still got the sex she needed from him, shared with a personal dildo which actually gave her more satisfaction than he did.
That was how she came to be sitting at her desk at midday on a lovely warm Friday, with the skirt of her light white cotton summer dress draped over her lap, fingers playing casually with the crotch of her panties, whilst reading a rather erotic story on the Literotica website – about how a middle-age married couple went dogging. The wife had persuaded her husband to allow a stranger to fuck her in their car, whilst he watched – to add more fire to her imagination. And his for that matter. As she read, Joanne imagined herself in the same situation, casually rubbing herself over her knickers. She was leaking.
The telephone ringing brought her back to reality. The receptionist told her that Mrs Gifford-Smith was on her way to her husband’s office. Quickly lowering the hem of her dress and switching her laptop to the iGoogle home page, she stood to cross to the door to welcome her boss’s wife. Quite unprepared for her initial reaction to the woman approaching her, Joanne’s mouth went dry. She felt a sudden wrench in her belly. Oh my goodness! What on earth…? Joanne had heard of attractions at first sight, but assumed such things were between man and woman. But here was no man, but another woman. A wonderful, elegant, beautiful woman. She closed her mouth and gulped with embarrassment.
‘Good morning Mrs Gifford-Smith,’ she welcomed with a warm smile and some confusion. ‘I’m afraid your husband has been delayed for an hour or so.’
‘Oh shit! Excuse the language!’ Ginette antalya escort was unaware of the younger woman’s reaction to her appearance.
‘No problem! I have already phoned the restaurant to delay the booking. Can I get you a coffee or anything, or would you rather do a little shopping perhaps, and come back later?’
‘I’ll hang on here.’
As Joanne led the way into the inner private office, her boss’s sanctum, she was impressed by Ginette. The lady was very imposing. Almost as well-built as Joanne, with perfectly groomed chestnut-coloured hair, looking as though she had just come from the hair stylist – which she had – and an expensive tailored two-piece calf-length suit of cream tussore silk and mohair, hiding a white lace silk bouse with a cut-away collar. Her handbag, Joanne noticed, was a Mulberry, whilst her hat was a Whiteley’s fascinator. Mmm – class! Expensive! Joanne knew all about these things!
‘That’s most kind. Sorry! You must be Joanne. Or is it Jo for short? Arthur has often spoken about you.’ She gave Joanne an appraising look with a wide smile. ‘And I must say I’m not surprised.’ Pretending not to have noticed the slight blush spreading over Joanne’s cheeks, she continued. ‘Or anything would be nice. Arthur’s private fridge probably has a Martini and ice. Join me?’
‘Oh, thank you Mrs Gifford-Smith …’
‘Ginny, please. You father is Ernest Forsythe, is he not?’
‘Yes. I remember you at the wedding.’Joanne lied. As she turned to open the fridge, Ginny was appraising Jo’s figure. It was an automatic reaction for her. She was always interested in studying other women. Not in what they were wearing necessarily, though expensive clothes helped, but admiring their contours and speculating about the shape of their breasts and the contours of their inner thighs. Although a highly respected lady of the local community, Ginette had recently developed a preference for other women when it came to sex. She had always been bi-sexual, since being introduced to sex with other young ladies at private boarding school, but that was overtaken when she met Arthur.
Now, since their marriage twenty-three years ago, the inevitable loss of interest her husband showed in having sufficient sex with her, well, sufficient for her anyway, had led to a reawakening of Ginny’s interest in her own sex. She had been fortunate enough to find a like-minded lady in the Lord-Lieutenant’s wife, Juliet. Or rather, be found by her, for Juliet was the hunter. And the absolute soul of discretion. She had recognised the signs in Ginette, and pursued her with eventual success. It takes one to know one, as they say.
Just occasionally, Ginny had a fling with less prestigious ladies on impulse, but always ones who were married to well-connected and well-respected professional husbands. These wives were reliable and prudent, and hungry for sex to replace what they had lost. And right now, studying the woman before her, she found herself curiously attracted to this somewhat younger lady, daughter of The Hon Ernest Forsythe, no less, and her husband’s secretary. Rumour had it, in her closed circle of friends, that Joanne’s husband was not as discreet as the thought, in his extra-marital affairs. Chose unwisely she had heard. As the ice tinkled into the glasses, she wondered if Joanne was aware of her husband’s indiscretions.
As she was considering this question, Joanne turned with two glasses of dry Martini, one of which she handed to Ginette. Their eyes met and paused briefly. They lifted their glasses in a salute. The exchange of looks was unmistakable for Ginny. Joanne was ‘available’.
‘Good health, Ginny.’ The taste was so refreshing on this warm day.
‘Mm. Lovely! So, Jo, what shall we occupy our time with, whilst Arthur catches up with himself?’
‘I’m at your disposal,’ was the courteous response. Ginny laughed.
‘Oh, well, let’s lock the door in that case.’ Jo raised her eyebrows in some surprise, smiling at the unexpected retort. Ginny went on with a laugh.’You are looking very attractive, Jo, darling. And I do so like your dress. Stylish. Suits you.’
‘Thank you.’ Flattered by the appraisal.
Ginny stepped closer to Jo, feeling the texture of the dress between thumb and first finger. ‘And I like your hair,’ she went on. ‘Lovely colour.’ She inhaled. ‘And seductive perfume.’ She got closer to Jo, leaning towards her, her face at the side of her neck, breathing in the perfume. ‘Mmm. Delicious!’
Jo was unsure how to respond to the compliments. Was Ginny making a pass at her? She felt vaguely stimulated by the interest being show in her by a lady of Ginny’s outgoing personality. And when she felt the light kiss on her ear, after an initial recoil at the unexpected, Joanne was rather pleasantly startled. She relaxed in a state of mental disarray. But before she was able to digest the impact of the sensation, Ginny had stepped closer to her, easing her face to hers. Jo didn’t pull her head away. Ginny’s lips touched Jo’s own in a lingering, sensuous kiss, full of promise.
They fethiye escort broke apart with a gasp from Jo and a soft sigh from Ginny. ‘Hmm. Sorry Joanne. I couldn’t help myself. I think you’re irresistible. Those full lips were made for kissing. You taste delicious. And your scent is so arousing. Perhaps it’s the weather.’ She laughed lightly. ‘I hope I haven’t embarrassed you?’
Too surprised to be embarrassed, the effect on Joanne was extraordinary. She had almost melted at the touch of another woman’s lips. So surprisingly soft and alluring. And no man had ever flattered her in quite the same way, either. The effect was rather thrilling. And disturbing. She was unsure how to respond. Other women had never really appealed to Jo, but she now realised that was because the thought had never entered her head. And here she was being propositioned. She was sure of it.
‘No. Not at all,’ she stammered, rather too loudly. ‘You have just taken me by surprise, that’s all. I mean … a little unexpected.’
‘Have I come on a bit strong? Sorry darling. You have a very attractive figure. So very appealing. And I guess you’ve realized by this time that I am interested in other women as well as men. Does that appeal to you at all? Don’t worry if you feel appalled by it – some women are. I won’t be offended.’
‘No, no – it’s not that!’ Jo surprised herself when she realised that she was rather anxious not to put an end to this extraordinary experience she was having. Her body was tingling and her panties were rather wet. ‘I’ve never really thought about it, that’s all. But I have to say … well … that I’m rather curious. Now you mention it.’
‘Good! Well, we have an hour to fill. Why don’t we indulge your curiosity. I mean, you are a public school girl – you must remember having seen other girls private parts!’ As she spoke, Ginny put her arms round Jo, embracing her. She whispered, ‘Come here darling. Kiss me! Let me taste you.’ And they lips met softly, exploring each other with uncertain curiosity. Eager to get to know each other. Ginny was confident that she would be able to overcome any misgivings on Jo’s part, once feelings of uncontrollable lust invaded her body. Jo’s trembling lips were searching Ginny’s mouth. She opened her lips, running her tongue lightly over Jo’s lips, darting inside her mouth. Yes! Response was coming.
The mention of girls’ private parts struck a cord in Jo’s memory. Yes! Miss Roberts. But, of course, feelings were beginning to arouse Jo already, fluttering in her belly as she felt Ginny’s lips and tongue kissing her face, her neck and ears, whilst her hands stroked her buttocks. Other thoughts were pushed away. She loved having her bottom caressed. Then she felt her belly give a lurch. Oh my God! Wonderful! It was wonderful! Seventh heaven!
‘Now darling,’ Ginny whispered, ‘my husband’s secretary is now to be his wife’s personal servant as well. To do with as I think fit.’
With one hand remaining on Jo’s buttocks, the other unbuttoned the front of her blouse. With a certain eagerness, she reached behind Jo, unhooking the clasp of her bra, allowing her large breasts to drop over her rib-cage, the dark areola proud and wrinkled. Ginny felt her new assistant gasping. She leaned away from Jo to look at them, delighting at the sight.
‘That’s a wonderful sight darling. So creamy and full. Mmm. Delicious.’
All Jo could do was watch it all happen in a state of disbelief. This wasn’t really happening to her. These aren’t my breasts being exposed, she thought. I must be dreaming. Oh my God! She’s looking at them. Gazing at my tits! Going to kiss them. Oh no!
When Ginny bent to latch her lips over them, the large saucer-like areola and thick brown nipple, stiffened and grew. Ginny felt Jo’s belly flutter once again. She was lubricating for her. What a delightful body.
Pressing Jo’s bottom against the edge of the desk, their lips met again for another sexy kiss, as Ginny’s hand slipped under the hem of Jo’s dress, the fingers tracing a path inside her upper thigh until they encountered the gusset of the knickers. She softly cupped her palm over the gusset, feeling the wetness and warmth of the cluster of labia inside.
‘Oh – so lovely!’ she murmured.
Her fingers pressed against the pliant flesh, with her thumb searching for the clitoris. Oh yes! There! This first contact with a strange vulva was always very arousing for Ginny. Squat down. Kiss the nipples of Jo’s panting breasts. Ginny’s breathing quickened at the thought of actually sliding her fingers inside the vagina.
But not yet! Patience! Suckle the breasts first.
Jo gasped at the feel of strange fingers exploring her knickers. ‘Oh my God!’ She knew they would be soaking. I’m being felt, she thought. Oh my …! Her eyes closed as a wave of happiness swept through her. The sensation was quite new to her – and so thrilling. Her whole body was glowing with lust. Her hands were drawn to the magnificent breasts of her partner. Their fingers explored the softness of kaş escort the flesh within the bra, and the fascination of the proud hard nipples, marveling at the spongy texture. But when she felt fingers steal into the side of the knickers, searching for her most secret part, her mystery, a sudden tremble fluttered in her thigh muscles.
Her knees went weak as she sagged against the desk. ‘Oh yes! Yes!’ she croaked. I’ve never felt like this before, she realized. Wanting more. Much more! Her thighs parted.
Jo felt the skirt of her dress being unbuttoned. She was in a state of confusion. She had never experienced anything like this. But the embrace of another lady was so soft and delicate. She seemed entirely under the control of this dominating woman. Her body was responding, filling her mind with lust and hunger for sex. It was unbelievable. She was actually allowing it to happen to her, willing it to happen! Realizing that fingers were gripping the top of her knickers, peeling them over her thighs, they slid down her legs until they fell round her ankles. Without a pause, Jo stepped out of them, before sinking into the visitor chair to one side of the desk, facing Ginny.
‘Oh, Jo! You have most wonderful personal belongings there. Superb!’
With her arms hanging over the arms of the chair, the dress fully open, Jo’s legs were open, allowing Ginny to stare long and hard at her genitals. And there was plenty for her to admire.
‘Lovely thick lips. And so juicy.’ Ginny’s fingers started to explore the vulva and clitoris, slowly and provocatively opening up every little crevice in front of her very eyes to be examined at close quarters. The pungent scent of Jo’s aroused vulva filled her nostrils. ‘Delicious!’ Ginny was immediately turned on all over again. The sight of Joanne’s magnificent heaven triggered her own juices, which had already started to flow at the thought of fingering Jo. She pressed her fingers erotically over her own groin .
Ginny’s eyes were glued to her secret parts, wet and generous flaps of thick flesh, her finger penetrating the vagina, then rubbing round the entrance. Her juices had dribbled over, as far as to the puckered entrance to her other secret passage. She was salivating with excitement. This was a magnificent, glorious display of woman’s raison d’etre. She squatted between Jo’s thighs before leaning into the parting, to place her lips against the labia. She inhaled deeply. Exquisite.
When her tongue touched the clitoris and her fingers slipped easily into the eagerly waiting vagina, she felt Jo’s loins recoil. There was a fluttering of muscles in the smooth thighs. Joanne’s hips were starting to shake and flex. Her face confirmed her agonizing grimace. She was getting near to her orgasm. But as her loins tensed and lifted from the chair, she was hissing loudly. ‘Oh. My. God. Sheee -it.’ Her face was a picture of startled disbelief. Ginny’s hands grappled feverishly at her heavy breasts, feeling the nut-hard nipples. When a series of uncontrollable orgasms began to swamp her body.
It was time to expose her own secrets to her new servant. As Jo recovered her normal breathing, Ginny stood back, unbuttoning her jacket and blouse. Reaching behind, she unhooked her bra, lifting the cups over the top, exposing the heavy breasts, resting on her rib-cage. Already engorged with lust, the dark nipples, almost purple in color, stood proud from the ribbed areola.
The sight suddenly reminded Jo of one boarding school experience. Miss Roberts, the dormitory mistress, was a stern lady who struck fear into the hearts of the younger girls. A firm disciplinarian, she was in her forties. Not very good looking. Piercing eyes, thick eyebrows and a prominent nose. Her dark hair was pulled back into a bun. Mid way through the first term, Joanne was staying in school for the weekend whilst her parents were away. There were only four girls in the dorm, including the two senior girls. Flashing through her mind was the vision of Miss Roberts on her bed, her small breasts bared. Nipples erect. Without skirt, her thighs were open. Amid a prolific thatch of black curls was her protruding labia. The two senior girls were toying with her. One playing with her clitoris and the other kissing the nipples.
She and the fourth girl watched them in fascinated astonishment. The other girl – name forgotten – put her hand on Jo’s pubic hair. Fingers clawing inside her wet vagina. The mistress on the bed, squirming and moaning. Indelible memory of her face in agony.
Ginny watched as Joanne gazed in awe at this sudden, unexpected display of the older woman’s breasts, unaware of the vision from the past it had opened. Hitching her skirt up to her waist, she perched on the corner of her husband’s desk, leaning back on her arms behind her, legs apart, her skirt draped over her thighs.
‘Kiss them!’ was the husky demand.
Jo levered herself from the chair, leaning over, with hands on the edge of the desk, either side of Ginny’s hips, to take, first, one stiff chunky nipple, then the other into her mouth. She sucked on them heavily, chewing with her stiffened lips and lightly clenched teeth. Her companion was gasping, her hands clasped round Jo’s head, pressing it hard against her breasts, moaning and hissing. Memories of Miss Roberts. Oh my god! So exciting!
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