A SECRETARY'S INDISCRETION
Joanne was feeling rather horny. Although she herself wouldn't have used that word. Feeling rather sexy, she would say. She was alone in her office, having offered to 'mind the shop' whilst the others went for a celebration lunch. It was someone's birthday, though she couldn't say whose - not that she was interested. She hadn't wanted to go with them anyway.
Joanne preferred to keep herself to herself in the office. Besides, that's how her boss wanted it as well. He was the Financial Director and discouraged her from gossiping with other staff. Which was not difficult for her, since she didn't really mix at their level, having very little in common with any of them. Her father, Ernest, was a local land owner, with a string of horses. Master of the hounds. His old friend and 'best man' at his wedding, Arthur Gifford-Smith, was the Financial Director of a multi-national company and had persuaded Ernest to allow Joanne to become his secretary in their North of England Office. She thought it might be rather fun, besides bringing in some extra cash, always welcome spending money.
Well, she was wrong. It was boring, though the money made it worth the effort. Her boss was rarely in the office and she got the impression that she was just window-dressing, boosting his image of importance in the company. She read a lot!
So here she was. A warm Friday lunch time. A deserted office. The director was away in the States on business, leaving Joanne to sort out her filing - what little there was - and reading her magazines. But today, she felt rather restless, with a vague ache in her belly. She knew what it was. Her body was feeling unfulfilled, and she knew why. The previous evening she had watched her husband flirting with a young slender Fiona at the party, whilst she herself spent time avoiding advances from unwanted older stallions. So here she was, feeling frustrated.
Joanne didn't really mind her husband flirting, providing she got the benefit later in bed. But that had not been the case last night, leaving her somewhat frustrated. He'd had too much beer, anyway. Their marriage had been one of convenience for their families, really, and, though she got on reasonably well with her husband, sex had never been the strong point between them. She was aware that her solid figure couldn't really compete with the young stringy things at dances. At 188 lbs, she was a big girl - though not what you'd call fat. Just large. Nevertheless, she carried her wide hips and heavy breasts with style and poise, having been properly 'finished' in Switzerland. She knew how to present herself in spite of her figure.
Her 'society wedding' with Rodney was a thrill for her, but the marriage soon became fairly open between them, after he had agreed plenty of financial latitude in exchange for Joanne turning a blind eye to his amorous latitude. He was discreet about it, thank goodness. And so was she. Joanne had some expensive clothes to show for her understanding, and still got the sex she needed from him, topped up with a personal dildo which actually gave her more satisfaction that her husband. But, for some reason she was at a loss to understand, last night's episode had made her annoyed. She had wanted sex and didn't get it - neither from Rodney nor her dildo.
That was why she was sitting at her desk at midday on a lovely warm Friday, her light worsted pale tan skirt draped over her lap, fingers playing casually inside her panties, whilst reading a rather descriptive letter in Forum Magazine - about a young married couple where the husband had persuaded his wife to allow their male friend to fuck her whilst he watched - to fire her imagination. Her vaginal juices were flowing inside her silk panties - cotton lined. She slid her two middle fingers inside. In and out, deep and slow, as she read the erotic story. She would enjoy a fulfilling orgasm.
That was when there came a tap on the door. After a brief pause allowing Joanne to panic, she quickly swept the magazine into her desk top-drawer, whilst dropping her skirt over her knees. The door opened as she looked up. In the opening appeared a smiling Alan. Joanne returned the smile with a touch of guilt on her face. As if from habit, her eyes quickly glanced at his crotch for a brief moment, her mind still on sex. What lay in waiting there was the object of many fantasies during her self pleasuring.
'Busy?' he asked, having noticed her fleeting interest in his trousers. 'Where is everyone?'
'They've all gone to the Half-way Inn to celebrate a birthday. I thought you were with them.'
He came into the office. 'No, just got back from London. You're look particularly beautiful today Joanne. Mmm - a touch vulnerable perhaps?'
She did look attractive, Alan thought. Her dark blonde hair in an attractive swept-back style. Her wide-spaced smokey eyes, with a pale flawless skin. Not too much make-up. A wide mouth with full sensuous lips. He had told her already - more than once - that she reminded him of Simone Signoret, the wonderful sexy French film actress. Well, she did - it was a remarkable likeness, though that's where it finished. Their figures were very different. But who cares?