Unknown - Computer Consultant

Linda, who didn't even acknowledge my presence; and past Diane, standing there innocently. Just at the moment I walked by she bent over to pick something up. As most women do when they think no one is looking, she bent straight at the waist, not bending her knees at all; legs locked straight up and down. The tight, white cotton shift rode up, higher and higher. She wore no nylons and, for that second or two, I had an unobstructed view up and down almost the whole length of her soft, young, cream-colored thighs.

Her bending pushed her smooth, round, little behind high in the air toward me, the widening split between her butts stretching the cotton to the breaking point. I was beginning to sweat a little when I saw Linda sneak a leering grin at the young flesh displayed in front of her. My eyes locked hers in a stare that told her in no uncertain terms, "I know what's on your mind. You lay a hand on her and you'll answer to me. Over my dead body Linda, over my dead body.". She gave me a shrug that said, "We'll see" and went back to work.

Shuddering at the thought, I walked into the main office. Daphne sat at a desk facing away from me. She sat in a typical office chair; you know, the kind with a small backrest high up on a two inch diameter stalk set in the seat. The thick shiny stainless steel pole had worked its way into Daphne's jeans as she sat.

Part of her butt meats, now unrestrained by panties, had oozed around the chair rod, gripping it tightly; the rest of the denim covered flesh sagged out around it and over the sides of the seat.

My sweat increased at the sight, but my cock remained limp. All I could see was the brutal invasion she had taken from Linda earlier in the day and I marveled at how she could sit there working as usual all this time. She might have been able to regain her composure somehow, but I hadn't.

I moved past her, gently patting the back of her head in sympathy as I walked by. Rudely shaking her head away, she lifted her downturned eyes to mine, remembering my part in her ordeal, and glared daggers right through my face. I wanted to apologize to her, to explain that I couldn't help myself, but there was no way.

Lisa was sitting at the typewriter by the front door. If anything could have brought me back to life it was her. The heat start to spread through my dick again as I approached her, gazing hungrily and openly, but she was too busy typing to notice. I ogled my way down the length of her, starting with her pleasingly filled out face and moving down to the tight red sweater filled with her heavy, bulging tits.

They seemed to fill the entire front of her sweater; so large that they were plopped solidly down on the typing table, Lisa's arms squeezing them together in front of her as she typed. With one hand in my pocket secretly feeling myself, I stood and stared at her sweater-bulging pair, which had to be the size of honeydew melons. The cold metal table had excited her nipples, forcing those nickel-sized paps to erupt forward nearly three fourths of an inch!

I ended up in her lap, my eyes buried deep in the dark triangle formed by her little belly and bulging, red-nylon thighs. The micro-mini barely covered her bottom, now that she was sitting down, and I could see the round ends of her butt barely peaking out, also encased in the tight elastic. I focused in and thought,

"I'll be damned if she isn't wearin' any!". The white flesh of her unpantied ass blended into the expanding red material, tinting it a dull, sexual pink. "What in the hell is she doing dressed like that just to come to a dull office job?", I wondered. "She is ready!", I decided. "And I'm just the man to give it to her!".

Not thinking too clearly anymore, I formed the crazy idea that I would go outside and wait for her to come out. There were only a couple more hours til closing time. I'd wait for her and talk to her, ask her out or over to my house or anything. I had to have her now, today, and I was determined to get her; one way or the other. "Somehow she knew I was going to be there today and she dressed that way for me!", my hormones screamed at me. "If she plays it cool, don't let her get away. Follow her and make her yours!", my mixed up mind ordered.

In a hot trance I waved good-bye absently to Margaret and began walking out, my plan now set. But you know what they say about plans. I vaguely heard her say "No. Stick around. I want you to meet Gene", but I too full of the vision of Lisa to pay any attention.

Just as I made it to the exit, the door burst open noisily. I was nearly bowled over as the boss burst into the office. I guess I was going to stick around after all.

The room became a mad shambles as everyone ran in to greet him.

Never having met him and him being the boss and everything, the girls stopped short and shyly huddled together around him, not knowing what to say. Margaret, who had met him only once herself when she was hired as manager, took some initiative and offered him her hand in welcome.

Let me tell ya, I don't where I got that description of him that I gave you earlier, but it was dead wrong. He wasn't in his early forties. It was more like his late fifties! Let me give you a little better description now of the man who owned the place, the man who I worked for, as I saw him for the first time that day along with the rest of his employees.

First of all he was a big guy. About 6'4" and maybe 250 pounds.

As I craned my neck up at him I could tell that he dyed his still thick hair. It was slicked back in a high pompadour. And it was a poor dye job at that, old-man grey growing out at the base of a jet black shoe polish bowl on top. Deep crags deeply dented his jowly cheeks and he wore steel-framed glasses laying heavily on a large, bulbous nose.

He still wore the tonnage pretty well on his large frame, but he was definitely on the fattish side. I could hear him wheezing just from the effort of walking all that weight around and a light red flush blotched his sweating face. What a sight! Wearing a heavy black coat over his pin-stripe suit, he looked more like a sleaze than a boss to me.

Meanwhile, the girls were backing away a little after taking a good look at him. They didn't mean to, I'm sure. It was just an instinctive move on their part and I didn't blame them. Linda was the only one who didn't seem nervous, standing calmly off to the side behind Margaret, who was still trying to shake hands with him.

Swallowing her little hand in one of his big mitts, he shook it briefly, Margaret's whole body shaking along with it. "Good to see you again, Margaret. I'm very proud of the way you've whipped this place into shape. I thought it was about time I came and saw it for myself.". He turned his gaze in our direction and exclaimed, "And these must be the people who really deserve all the credit. Let's see who we've got here.".

His eyes swept down the line as Margaret introduced him to his people; me and Jeff, Diane, Daphne, Linda and finally Lisa on whom his gaze rested for what seemed like an eternity. Her 5'4" frame cringed back just a fraction as his eyes bore down on her.

Licking his lips a little, he ogled her obscenely, drinking in her huge tits, soft round tummy and the pink nylon bulging with her meaty thighs.

Finally, he turned back to Margaret and shrugged off his overcoat, taking the suit coat off right along with it. Now I could see how huge he really was. Man, was he big. His barrel chest had popped one of the buttons on his shirt and I could see that he wore no undershirt. His pot belly looked like a big pink beach ball with a black rug on it. Yuck!

I was so engrossed in staring at this guy, our boss, that I was as unprepared as the rest of them for what happened next.

He was telling Margaret what a fine looking group we were and that he wanted to get to know each of us on a more personal level…