"Do you know what your boss did tonight?" I asked my husband on the way home from his company dinner. I didn't wait for him to answer. "He had the nerve to put his hand on my leg under the table. Can you believe this guy? Who does he think he is?"
My name is Ginger. I'm 38 and a stay-at-home wife with two elementary aged girls. My husband, Mark, is 41 and had just completed one year as sales manager with an equipment sales and rental company. He had worked for other companies in this field and built a solid reputation. This had led to him being contacted my Norman Lierman, the owner of his current company. After a couple of months of negotiations, Mark had agreed to come on board as sales manager for the Southeastern region. In addition to working together, Mark and Norman had become real friends, sharing their love of golf every Saturday they could get away.
The new job came with a hefty salary increase and the necessity to relocate. We moved from Phoenix to Mobile, Alabama during the summer to make the school transition easier for the girls.
Mark had done very well in his new position, resulting in his team winning division of the year honors at the annual awards banquet. That award garnered his team the right to sit at the owners' table tonight. The husband and wife seating arrangement put me on Mark's right with Mr. Lierman next to me on my right, Mr. Lierman's wife, Susan, on his right and so on around the table.
Though she appeared to be several years younger than her husband, Susan was not at all the gold digger type like some business owners like to have on their arm. She works as the office manager at her husband's company and, according to Mark, is a vital part of the operations.
Susan is an incredibly stunning woman. I'm 5' 3" and she towered over me by several inches. Her red hair hung almost to her waist, lovingly framing her delicate face and the freckles that were scattered across her cheeks and nose. Her out-going friendliness and an undeniable southern accent made her a pleasure to be around. We had become instant friends from the first time we met and by the time the awards banquet rolled around, we had become "pals", sharing many cups of coffee and recipes on those Saturdays when we were golf widows.
And, for the first time in my life I felt a strange attraction to another woman. Not is a sexual kind of way, at least not at first. Just that southern touchy, feely kind of attitude. The gentle touch on my arm to make a point, the arm around my shoulders when looking over my shoulder at a picture in a magazine, the things that seemed second nature to her caused tingles that I didn't understand course thru my body.
And a welcoming hug was automatic each time we met. And I'm not talking about a gentle arm around the shoulders kind of hug. I'm talking about a full-frontal squeeze that pushed her ample breasts into me, just above my own because of the difference in our heights. I couldn't help but notice how firm they felt. I am embarrassed to admit that, more than once, I had caught myself wondering if they felt that firm without the support of a bra.
"Oh Ginger, I wouldn't worry too much about it. He probably didn't even realize he was doing it as he was leaning over to talk to me," Mark commented as we pulled into our drive. I wasn't surprised. Mark is the kind of guy who never thinks bad of anyone. Because he likes and respects his boss, I'm sure he would never suspect him of anything inappropriate. "Well, he might not have realized it but I did and I moved it right back" I replied with as much conviction as I could muster. "I mean, I did it discretely so not to cause a scene but I was shocked by his forwardness".
Had I told him the complete truth, it might have changed his opinion of his boss. He did put his hand on my leg under the table, just like I told Mark. And I did move it back, just like I told Mark. What I didn't tell Mark is that when I used my hand to discretely move his bosses hand he quickly took my hand and placed it right on top of the biggest bulge I have ever felt in a man's pants. I was, at the same time, shocked and wet with excitement.
Shocked, first that Mr. Lierman would do such a brazen thing and in the next instant, shocked at the apparent size of what must be behind that zipper. The source of the second shock is what brought on the instantaneous dampness in my lace panties.
You see...I have, for years harbored a secret desire for well-endowed men. Don't get me wrong I love Mark and he is no shrimp in the size department. He is well above the national average you read about on the internet and is very apt at using it. The problem is Scott Simpson. He's a guy I dated in college. And let me tell you, his size could embarrass a porn star and there are times I miss him. Well...not him so much, just his penis. He was as asshole with a huge penis and a huge ego to go with it. He was not marrying material but he sure could drive you wild.
And, while Mr. Lierman was no young college stud, I considered him reasonably handsome for a man in his mid-40's who appeared to be in reasonably good shape except for a slight paunch. A result, I'm sure, of letting his work cut into his time at the gym.
But the fact that Mr. Lierman was no GQ model didn't prevent the opening of a flood-gate of memories I was sure I had filed away in the far recesses of my brain. Looking back, I might not have jerked my hand away quickly enough. I think I might have even given his manhood a slight squeeze before I moved it. Ok...ok...I know I did. In fact, I stroked it a couple of times before slipping my hand back into my own lap.
I know it was wrong. I know it makes me look like some kind of a slut. I know I was jeopardizing my marriage and Mark's job but...damn, it was huge. But, it didn't matter. I did move my hand back and pretended nothing had happened. The conversation continued and the party went on.
Nothing happened that is, until a few minutes later I felt his hand back on mine. He slowly eased it back into his lap and onto the monster sleeping there. I was in a panic. Torn between my faithfulness to my marriage and the desire that was suddenly re-awakened. I told myself if I just left my hand there everything would be fine. At least that is how I justified leaving it there. I'm not quite sure how I justified the squeezing and stroking that followed. I am sure however that I felt is grow in my hand to the point it must have been uncomfortable for him.
You would never know what was going on under the table by the way Mr. Lierman carried on conversation above the table. He and Mark were discussing something about the acquisition of some company in California when I felt his hand once more on my leg. While he was busy telling Mark about his opportunity to move up in the company, his hand was busy moving up my leg. By the time they had set a date to meet with the owner of the other company, his fingers were lightly stroking the lips of my now soaking wet pussy thru the lace of my panties.
I have to admit he was good. He was really good. He was at the same time, talking to my husband about plans to expand the company and driving me completely insane with his fingers. I knew I was going to have an orgasm any second. I also knew that I couldn't let that happen. You see, I'm not the quietest person on earth when I cum.
