It was a smoking hot, stickily-clinging haven. My prick yelled delight as it probed into the thick, black bush and ferreted for her cunt. What a cunt! It grasped me greedily, sucked me in, basted me in cunt-juice and simmered me in hot, vaginal membranes.
She'd been stewing my prick from the day she'd stepped into the office. Her cunt had been waiting so long for this that when it grasped my prick and caressed its knob, it was frenzied. Its frenzy sent me. I gave a loud shout and pulled powerfully on her tits, using them for leverage to ram my cock into her.
She had a wide and knowledgeable cunt. It chuckled with delight as I spurted, but with each spurt it took a stronger grip upon my shaft, pulling on it and sucking the sperm out of me, making it jet high up inside her. Every time a dollop of hot spunk tore out through my knob and splattered over her cervix she gasped: "Lovely!" I shot and shot. She writhed, heaved and wailed. And when I could shoot no more I sprawled upon her wearily. My cheek rested upon her perspiring shoulders, her sweaty breasts filled my hands, and my prick was stuck so high up inside her I feared I'd never get it down.
The room rang with our labored breathing. After a time I said huskily: "I didn't know this was going to happen!"
She'd known all the time it was going to happen. She was practical. Although still recovering from one orgasm, she whispered, "It was lovely. Do it again up the front. I like that best!"
My prick was steeped in cunt-juice and simmering beautifully. I still had a semi-hard-on. I placed my hands upon the small of her back and levered away from her. My cock came out with a "PLOP", like a cork from a bottle. Trickles of our mingled love-juices ran down the inside of her thighs.
She pushed herself up and turned to face me. She wasn't wearing glasses and her eyes were swimmy with emotion. "It's lovely doing it on a table. There's all kinds of gorgeous stresses and tensions." Her hands went to my prick, fondling and caressing. "It's burning hot. Fuck me silly with it, Mike!" She gave me a brisk rub-up that got my prick quivering. Then she sat up on the desk and drew her legs up high until her heels were on the desk too. She held her knees and strained them wide apart. Then she smiled secretly as she watched me watching her.
The way she was sitting, with her legs splayed wide open, starkly displayed all her hairy crotch. Hairy is inadequate to describe the great, thick, black bush she wore between her legs. It looked as though one of the Beatles was down there having a nibble. She might have been wearing a rug between her legs. I don't usually go for hairy women. But this excessive hairiness was strangely moving. And frustrating too. I'd have to forage deep in that jungle for its sweet meats. She sat braced back on her arms and watched me with tender, wistful eyes. My hand went to her crotch. The hairs weren't springy. They were soft, smooth and long. They were so long most of them had been rammed up inside her cunt along with my prick. She was hot there, with a glycerine stickiness. She gave a dreamy sigh as I fumbled around, running my fingers along the valley of her cunt and drawing down the hairs from inside her vagina. If I'd had a comb, I could have made a neat parting. But I had to do it with my fingers. I burrowed into the hairy wilderness, straightened out tangles, made a parting and smoothed the hairs flat. Her glistening, wide-open cunt looked very red when seen through the parting in her raven-black hairiness.
She was impatient. Tuck me again, Mike!"
I was impatient myself. I held my prick and steered it's knob into the heart of that glistening, mushy redness. She grabbed my shirt and peeled it up over my head. I was as naked as she was then. "Do it slowly, Mike," she panted. "Put it in and then let it soak. Make it last!"
She had a way of talking about fucking that could make a man come without even touching her. I stroked my knob slowly up and down inside her cunt-crevice. She whimpered and strained her knees apart. Presently she gave an experienced little loin-wriggle and then thrust. The thrust lodged my knob neatly into her vagina dimple. "Slide it in slowly," she panted. "Very slowly!"
I slid in slowly. The sweat stood out on my forehead. Her cunt was so tight it was like forcing my prick into an undersized rubber, full of Vaseline. But I got it in. Right in up to the hilt. The hot constriction of her vagina strapped my prick into a strait jacket. Her furry crotch was so wet that cunt-juice coated my thighs and belly with icy stickiness.
"Do it my way, Mike!" she whispered in my ear. She lay back on the desk, thrust her groin up powerfully against mine, and then raised one leg high and draped it over my shoulder. She took a deep breath and draped her other leg over my other shoulder. Her heels pressed into the small of my back.
"This is lovely, Mike!" she breathed ecstatically. "Now fuck me gently. Slowly in and out. Make it last!"
I made it last. It was so enjoyable I wanted it to go on forever. When I went up on tiptoe I could get wonderful leverage. When I leaned forward, and the undersides of her thighs bore my weight, it caused a cunt-stretching tension that sent her. While I was frictioning steadily, using long, slow strokes, she had two or three little orgasms. Her loins writhed and seethed around my prick. I frictioned on steadily while bubbling cunt-juice made gurgling, squishy sounds. She was drooling so much cunt-juice that when my dangling balls rubbed upon her Brownie it was as though they were soaked in oil. They were hot, slippery and steeped in the thick juices.
This was one of those rare moments when me and my prick were in perfect accord and harmony. We both fucked Janet. We fucked her beautifully, and we fucked ourselves. There was a blissful eternity of time while my prick and I tiptoed hand in hand through blissful clouds of joy. Then ecstatically, we surrendered ourselves to the peacefulness of aftermath.
Janet still had her legs draped over my shoulders. My flappy prick was still firmly clenched by her cunt But we were both happily exhausted. She smiled up into my eyes. "Lovely, Mike. Lovely!"
"Well! Well! Well!" said a loud, brisk voice behind me.
I cringed.
The office door closed. "Sorry to interrupt," said the Boss happily. "I had no idea you two were so close."
The world tumbled down around my ears. I withdrew, leaped for my underclothes, and drew on my jockey-shorts and my pants with trembling hands.
The Boss watched me, smiling benignly. Janet was neither surprised nor disconcerted. She slid off the table and stooped for her panties.
"I'm delighted," thrilled the Boss heartily. "I'm overjoyed!" He rubbed his hands gleefully. Then he went around behind his desk, sank down in his chair, pulled out the bottom drawer and produced a box of cigars. He politely waited until I'd pulled my shirt down over my head and then offered me one. "Good Havana cigars!" he told me. "To celebrate," he added, as he held a match.
I drew in smoke and coughed. I gave him a sickly smile.
Janet was oblivious to both of us. She'd pulled on her skirt and panties and was completely absorbed in buttoning her blouse with the threads of the ripped-off buttons.
"Sit down, Mike," said the Boss. He gestured grandly to the client's chair.
I sank down into it unhappily. I was glassy-eyed. I could have murdered my prick.
"Well! Well! Well!" said the Boss again. The words afforded him immense satisfaction. "I've been blind," he said happily. "Just think. It was happening right under my nose and I didn't know!"
I stared hard at a book on his desk. Once again my big, fat prick had landed me in the shit.