Elizabeth Watson - An unholy desire

At the moment, while his perceptive hands were skillfully flipping through the file, Ann couldn't help but notice how soft and well-manicured his hands were. My God, it looked as if he polished his nails. God to have hands like that running all over her body! She swallowed hard, blinked her eyes to shut out the tempting sight, but opened them only to be drawn to the short, black masculine hair lightly enshadowing their backs, a sensory shiver dancing up her spine. She leaned forward then, supposedly to observe the case history number, coyly playing with the top button of her black knit dress, but not without a certain gracefulness. The nervousness had long since passed.

"Mmmmm… I think I can read your handwriting, Dr. Everett," she said for the benefit of her husband who had slipped into the coat room, which doubled as a supply room, for a cup of coffee. She continued to pretend to study the editing marks in assorted colors, but from the corner of her eyes she saw the lusty gleam leap into his deep, dark ones as they flitted back and forth, overly lingering each time they focused down her generous cleavage.

"How's it going, folks," asked Carl dryly, as he sipped at the instant coffee steaming in a Styrofoam cup that he always kept in his desk drawer. Carl was the practical sort.

"Just… just fine, Carl. We're going over the interviews now so that Mrs. Dexter can get at them. No problems, I assure you."

Mrs. Dexter? thought Ann. Shades of guilt before the eye-hungry husband? Something's astir and I don't think it's my imagination.

"Everything is under control, Carl," finished Ann, hoping that would send her husband back to the catacombs where he belonged. Over her shoulder, she could almost feel George's eyeballs snapping back, then he lowered his head as if studying the file folder's contents, his gentle fingers flipping through the pages, but Ann wasn't fooled. While his broad brow hid the recesses of his eyes, she knew he was straining them damned near out of their sockets to feast on the alluring, hardened nipples beneath her black knit dress that molded her lithe body.

"Should we glance through the second one now?" He fumbled, dropped the folder, retrieved it. Almost pathetically, he looked up then to catch her suggestive little smile of understanding.

Angelically, Ann crossed her hands in her lap and, which her blue begging eyes asked, "Now what kind of paper do you want this typed on? All I have in my desk right now is canary. That can't be used for Xeroxing, can it?"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Everett, but I don't know where to find it…" she turned her blonde head, looking in the direction of the multi-purpose room behind them that served as a store room and coffee room, the only nook of the four room office that offered any privacy.

"I'd be more than happy to show you," George eagerly replied, rising to his feet and glancing out the window, almost as if he couldn't weather another dose of her voluptuously presented charms.

Ann was delighted! She'd reached him, all right! In fact, she'd wager that the slight bulge in the front of his trousers he was uncomfortably trying to conceal wasn't perpetual. Damn, she sure had reached him, and in good style! "Yes, I think we should use the heavy bond… takes wear better," he managed.

"I'll help you find it," announced Ann, looking him straight in his perplexed, burning dark eyes.

"Of course, come along… it's back here!" he finally got out, his nearly tremoring voice cracking twice. "It shouldn't take a minute."

"Yes, then I'll get right at it," Ann heard herself say, while intensive, if timorous, excitement, gripped her as she followed him into the coat room.

"You… you've got typing paper in your desk. I saw it when you put your typewriter cover in there," he hissed, his breathing short and raspy as he stared at her.

"I-I know…" Ann whispered, moving toward him, so tight inside she thought something was surely going to burst! Everything that her middle-aged husband had ever recorded concerning promiscuous wives made itself available like a sensual reference library in her erotically determined brain! She raised her arms with obvious intent, letting her fingers pressure against his broad shoulders, then mindlessly ease around his neck while he stood as if immobilized into a helpless numbness. "I-I know…!" she huskily repeated.

"J-Jesus Christ!" he choked, his strong arm wrapping around her slender waist and drawing her tightly against him, his handsome mouth hungrily finding her warm, tongue moistened lips in an ardent soul kiss! She let her own little tongue wetly greet his, her incited brain reeling as she enveloped him with the resilient fullness of her breasts, soft belly and hot thighs, urging the erogenous swell of her yielding fleshy mound against the lengthy bulge of his thickly aroused hardness. The passionate sensation of its solid, masculine feel whipped her breath away!

"Y-You're beautiful!" he hoarsely panted, smoothing his big hands lustfully over the rounded swell of her buttocks. "Y-You were showing your breasts out there to me on purpose, weren't you?"

"Y-Yes…! D-Did you like what you saw?"

"Good God, who wouldn't?"

His words were hot, gasping breaths against her face, the heat of his strong, sensitive hands penetrating through the knit of her dress to the tensed ovals of her rounded buttocks! It'd gone just as she'd hoped… her bit of lewd exhibitionism… but now, what? God, this was no time to get panicky, or suddenly have second thoughts! Yet…?

"Well…?" he insisted. "When can we get together, you little ball of fire? You want it real bad, I can tell that. Is this work getting to you, honey?"

"Ooooohhhh… I-I don't know!" she tremulously whispered. "But… I do want to, darling…!"

"Damn, you really mean that, don't you?" he croaked, his breathing filling the cluttered little room with short, sizzling sounds.

For an answer, Ann uncontrollably pressured even tighter against him, almost imperceptibly undulating her desire-filled, soft belly, loins and thighs with suggestive fervency against his hardened, rhythmically throbbing cock. A scene from a men's magazine she'd found in her father's underwear drawer raced through the archives of her sensually intoxicated mind and like the young wife in the story who was desperately trying to seduce her reluctant neighbor, she passionately kissed him on the lips, then began to tickle the end of his handsome nose with the tip of her hot, wet little tongue.

"Ummmmggghhhhh…" he huskily groaned, his heated hands stroking downward to the backs of her nyloned thighs, then up in under her tiny skirt to tease the smooth flesh of them above her stockings, and finally to caress and cup the rounded fullness of her flimsily covered buttocks! His wetly fevered mouth smothered her own as she sensually returned as much as he gave, eagerly lashing tongues with him, while his finger tips descended, tracing the deep crevice separating the tensed mounds of her ovalled, near naked buttocks. Then, one outstretched thick finger was worming its way between her trembling, full thighs from behind, the erotic sensation causing her to gasp out! Suddenly through her panties, she felt its wanted hot pressure against the desire-dampened mouth of her cunt, and an electric current rippled through her as it tried to wriggle inside the moistened, narrow crotch-band.

"No… no, darling, not here!" the hotly aroused young wife whispered, locking her strong, full thighs like a fleshy vise over his probing hand to hamper his frantic operation. "Please… what if Carl should walk in? Please… it's too dangerous with him right out there in the other office!" she insisted, her sultry blue eyes searching his while she reached behind her and gently disengaged his lewdly exploring fingers. Then, pressing the hardened tips of her proud young breasts against his chest, she reached beyond him to the top shelf and began tearing open a ream of paper.