Miss Johnson

My secretary Miss Johnson strolled into the room and sat across from me on her chair awaiting my instructions. I paused. She was wearing a short skirt that rode obscenely high up her legs. I tried not to stare but I was sure she noticed. But she just sat there waiting me out.

Shaking my head, my eyes traveled upwards. That wasn't much better because the cleavage between her breasts grabbed my attention. God damn, she had a beautiful set of tits hiding there. And she knew it. She had to. The shirts were getting tighter, the top three buttons on her white shirt were undone giving my eyes a glimpse of a blue bra peeking out. Yes, she knew that got my attention.

Finally my eyes made it to her face. She was a beautiful woman. Dark hair flowing to her shoulders and piercing blue eyes that could see right through me. I was sure she could read my mind. Though that wouldn't have been too hard at the moment.

I cleared my throat. "Sorry Miss Johnson, I was just trying to gather my thoughts," I explained. Yeah, right.

"Of course, Mr. Smith," she replied with a knowing smile. "What would you like me to handle for you today?"

The double entendre had to be on purpose - didn't it?

But of course, she was wondering why I had called her into my office. Wasn't she?

Again, I shook my head to clear it. "I want to send an email and need you to write it up for me."

"No problem," she replied. "Shall I come around to your side and type it up while you talk?"

I nodded. We had done this routine many times. I found it easier to get my thoughts together if I could walk around the room and talk out the email. Miss Johnson was an expert at gathering my wandering thoughts together into a coherent email.

So I stood and stepped aside as she slipped gracefully from her chair and slid by me to get to my chair. I breathed deeply getting a faint hint of her perfume. It was never too strong - always just a tease. She positioned herself in my chair and opened up a blank email screen. She glanced up at me expectantly.

Damn, caught again. I was mesmerized by the cleavage she was displaying, and standing above her, I could see deep into the valley that her tits formed. "Oh, right," I attempted to recover myself before it was too obvious.

"All right. This is to Mrs. Barton." Miss Johnson nodded and started typing. I stood to the side watching her fingers fly over the keyboard.

I started talking. "Ok, how to begin? All right, here goes - I wanted to respond to the email you sent to me yesterday afternoon. I was a little shocked at the tone ... no change that to 'your tone'. It was a surprise to hear, no read, what you sent ... no wait a sec. Hmmm..."

I paced the room gathering my thoughts. This wasn't going to be easy. "Ok ... let's try this. I was surprised to receive an email of such a graphic nature from someone of your stature with this company."

Miss Johnson looked up at me questioningly. Of course she didn't know what kind of email I had received. But she was going to find out. I continued. "The images and actions you described were very shocking. I mean, first you described how you would sit in your office thinking of me coming in to visit you. That seemed innocent enough when I read it; but then you went into details on your fantasies. Like I said, Mrs. Barton, I was shocked at what I was reading. How can I possibly visit your office now without considering what you described?"

I paused. I was standing over Miss Johnson watching her type up my last comment. And of course I was also admiring her tits. She finished and turned her face up towards me expectantly. Her eyes seemed to twinkle as she waited for me to continue.

So I did. "How can I come over without picturing the things you've suggested? For example, you pulling me towards you and unzipping my pants? You fishing my hard cock out of my pants? What have you done Mrs. Barton? I cannot get these images from my mind. You painted a picture so vivid that I can imagine everything you described.

"How you would stick your tongue out and lick the head of my cock before sucking my entire length into your mouth. How can I continue to work with that in my mind? But you didn't stop there, did you? Next you went on and described how wet your pussy would get. Mrs. Barton, I can almost smell it right now." And I could. But it had to be my imagination, didn't it?

"Your description continued though. Next you went on to describe sliding my cock between your tits. But when did your shirt come off, Mrs. Barton? Maybe your story wasn't as true to life as I thought. But I guess I shouldn't think too much about that, should I?"

Miss Johnson finished typing up my last sentence and again looked up at me expectantly. I watched as her hand slipped up to the top button holding her shirt together. "I hope you don't mind, Mr. Smith. I'm feeling a little warm." I could only shake my head as she undid a couple more buttons until her shirt was only being held on by a couple at the bottom. Her huge tits billowed out, covered in that lacy bra that I was glimpsing earlier, but now I was getting the full view. "Whew," she exclaimed, "that's better. Shall we continue?" she asked motioning towards the screen.

"Yes, yes, of course," I replied. "Where were we?"

"You were questioning the time line of her story. When her shirt came off."

"Ok. Let's continue. Please type this. But even though there seemed to be parts missing from your story, you continued throwing images and situations at me. I could not believe some of the things that I was reading. Next you were slipping out of your clothes. Once again, Mrs. Barton, how am I to face you in a meeting? Knowing that underneath your business attire, you're wearing black lace underwear? You described how the bra pushed your tits together and how your panties barely covered your pussy. Never again will I be able to not imagine that image.

"Or the one you went to next - taking your clothes off and describing how hard your nipples were or how wet your pussy was. Mrs. Barton, I close my eyes and all I can see now is what you described in your next sentence. That is, you on your knees kneeling before me sucking my cock. I can see the saliva running from your mouth and dripping onto the floor of your office. How are you going to explain that to visitors to your office? Maybe you spilled your coffee? That's a much better explanation than your spit dripping from your mouth as you sucked my cock. Don't you think so, Mrs. Barton?"

Miss Johnson typed up the last sentence. It seemed that her hands were shaking somewhat. And I had to admit that I was getting a little shaky as well. Reliving the email from Mrs. Barton was getting my heart beating a little faster than normal.

Without thinking, I rested my hand on Miss Johnson's shoulder to steady myself. Her blouse had slipped open a little further and my hand rested on her bare skin. She did not seem to mind though but actually seemed to lean into my hand. I slowly slipped my hand down further until it was touching the top of her bra. She sat there and watched my fingers tickling the top of her breast. I waited for a sign to stop but none came. Slipping my fingers underneath the fabric they traveled down until they brushed against her nipple. It felt hard to my touch. Suddenly I realized what I was doing and pulled my hand back.

"I'm sorry Miss Johnson. Let's continue shall we?"

She looked up at me with a frown. "Yes, ok, Mr. Smith, if that's what you want."

I nodded but I was confused. Did she again offer more to me? I paused a second before answering her, "Yes, yes. Let's finish this letter Miss Johnson." I was trying to remain professional though three seconds earlier I had been rubbing her breast. This was bizarre.

"Ok. Let's go. Start a new paragraph now please. But then your letter stopped and you said that it was up to me to continue it. You left me with the image of my cock being sucked into your mouth. I can look down and see your breasts and down further your wet pussy.

"But what I really need to do is to report you to management. You have sent out this pornographic email and you really should be reported. This is not acceptable behavior Mrs. Barton. But I cannot do that can I? How could I explain that I enjoyed reading your email and I really do want to continue it. It's just not right that the next image that comes to my mind is you lying on your desk with your legs spread and my tongue licking your wet pussy. I can just imagine how you would taste. I would lick up all your juices and spend time on your clitoris until you were almost ready to cum. But then I would pull away.

"Is that too harsh, Mrs. Barton? Or am I now getting too graphic? Is it too graphic to describe the view before me? Your hands are rubbing your breasts, your tits. Your nipples are hard. Your pussy is wide open, begging for more. Dripping with your secretions. You asked for this Mrs. Barton. You wanted to know what was next to the story you began. Well, I should tell you that what's next is that I take my hard cock. Oh yes, it would be hard. And I slide it right into your pussy. Into your cunt. In one long push I would bury myself in your tight cunt. And then I would fuck you Mrs. Barton. Oh yes, I would fuck you until you were begging for more."

Miss Johnson madly typed the words as they came from my mouth. Her breathing sounded labored. "Are you Ok, Miss Johnson?" I asked.

She nodded, "Yes, of course. I'm fine. Just having trouble keeping up."

"We can stop if you wish."

"No, no. Please continue."

"Very well. All right." I glanced at the screen to gather my train of thought, and to get another look down her impressive cleavage. I could feel myself getting very excited and my pants were starting to become uncomfortable. But I had to put that thought from my head and finish the email. "Ok, Miss Johnson, let's finish this up... Can you imagine what that would feel like Mrs. Barton? I'm thinking of it right this second as I write these words. Your legs are spread wide allowing me direct access to your body. Glancing downwards, I can see your pussy wrapping itself around my cock. It's a beautiful site.

"But it's too much for you and soon you are moaning that you are cumming. I move faster. You start screaming and I'm concerned that someone will hear so I cover your mouth with mine and kiss those beautiful lips. You slowly come down from your orgasm but mine is quickly approaching. Then you say something to me that I had not expected. 'Cum on my face Mr. Smith' is what comes from the lips I had just kissed. How can I possibly pass that up, so as I feel myself starting to cum, I pull out. Quickly you're on your knees before me again and I stroke my slick cock only a couple times before shooting my hot semen over your face. It's another beautiful site. My cum dripping from your chin, again staining your carpet.

"How about that stain? How are you going to explain that one? What do you think Mrs. Barton? Did I finish your email in an acceptable manner? Perhaps I won't report you after all. Instead I'll wait to see how or if you reply. Sincerely yours, Mr. Smith."

I stopped. "That's it Miss Johnson." She quickly finished typing as she got my last words down on the screen. "Can you read it back to me so I can hear how it sounds?"

"Very well Mr. Smith. I can do that." She started reading but I was only half listening. Her skirt had ridden further up her legs to her thighs, and her blouse hung open continuing to show me the wide expanse of her breasts. I could only admire the view before me. Hearing Miss Johnson repeat the graphic words that I had just had her type made the images come alive in my mind.

Suddenly I realized she had stopped reading and was calling me, "Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith. Shall I send it out?"

I shook myself out of my trance. "Yes, yes, I think you can. What do you think? Should I?" I rarely asked for her advice but this was a special case.

She nodded vigorously, "If it was me, I would love to get an email like this from you." She blushed as she realized what she had said. "I mean, she sent the original note so you can only respond in kind."

"You're right Miss Johnson. Go ahead and hit send. What do you think she will do?"

After hitting the button, she turned the chair towards me. I realized her face was at exactly the level of my groin. "She would be nuts if she didn't do this," and she reached out to touch my hard cock through my pants. Her voice got a little deeper, "And follow it up with something like this - just like in the email." She pulled the zipper down and pulled my cock out. Without another word, she began sucking. All I could do was rest one hand on the desk and the other on her shoulder.

Within seconds I was almost ready to blow my load. "Oh my God Miss Johnson. That's amazing."

Her eyes looked upwards and her mouth smiled around my cock. She sat back so she could answer. "Why thank you."

I reached down to pull her up and decided to hell with decorum and kissed her hard. Our tongues battled. She continued stroking my cock as I tried to slip my hand back under her bra.

Stepping back, she said, "Maybe this will help," and proceeded to undo her bra and toss it aside. My mouth dropped open. Her breasts were perfect and her nipples were hard and it wasn't due to the cold. I dropped my head down to take one into my mouth.

This time it was her turn to moan. "Oh God, I've been waiting for you to do that for so long."

I had to have her and we started pulling each other's clothes off. Soon we were both naked. My hands couldn't stop traveling over her smooth skin. My fingers reached down between her legs where I could feel her wet pussy. "Fuck me Mr. Smith. Please," she begged.

So just as I had described in the email, I helped her jump up on the desk and spread her legs. There was only time for one quick lick to taste her pussy before I stood with my throbbing dick in my hand. "So Miss Johnson, do you want this?" Her eyes were frozen to my cock and she could only nod her permission. "Very well," I replied and slowly pushed into her body. We both moaned in unison as we were joined.

We had both been building to this point - maybe since she had come into my office this afternoon, maybe for the two years she had worked for me. Probably a combination of both. In any case, I wasn't going to hold out much longer. My pace quickened. I knew I was close. Miss Johnson could feel it too. She reached down between our bodies to rub her clit. I watched as I continued thrusting.

"Oh fuck...," she moaned. Her orgasm flowed through her body and she tensed beneath me. I felt her pussy grab hold of my dick, not wanting to release it as I pulled it out. I had other plans for my cum than inside her pussy though. Taking my cock in my hand, I shuffled forwards towards her mouth and face. But it was too much. Before I got to her tits, I started to cum. The semen splashed out onto her nipples but some made it to her chin and onto her cheek as I continued shuffling upwards. My hand stroked the last vestiges of cum out onto her outstretched tongue.

"Oh my God Miss Johnson, that was amazing," I was able to tell her before collapsing back onto my chair.

"Yes, it was Mr. Smith, but I think you can call me Chrystal now," she added with a smile.

I smiled back at her, "And you can call me ... Mr. Smith. After all, we have to remain professional, don't we?"