Ten past eight in the evening; the office was deafeningly silent and dim except for the clicking sounds of the keyboard piercing through the still warm air. The central air-conditioner units had been switched off since 7.00pm and the office was stifling without any ventilation.
Vanessa was still seated at her desk rushing out the analysis reports Mr. Bailey requested earlier in the afternoon. If he had not spent so much time talking, she would have probably completed it about an hour ago, and need not perspire under the blazer which she was still wearing despite the stuffy atmosphere, she grumbled under her breath.
It was approximately 2.45pm, earlier in the afternoon, when Vanessa entered Mr. Bailey's office to hand him the pink folder and the stack of papers he had tasked her to complete. His stern expression that greeted her as she stepped into his room made her uncomfortable. Mr. Bailey was not a man to be trifled with, especially when he was in one of those pensive mood, like he was now.
Vanessa did not hesitate to sit when requested to by her boss, trying to maintain a calm demeanour to mask her inner trepidation. She dared not to even move a muscle unnecessarily, let alone adjust her skirt hemline which had ridden up dangerously close to the V of her crotch, exposing her nylon clad slender gams and threatening to flash her cum-soaked gusset in front of Mr. Bailey.
"Vanessa...", interrupted Mr. Bailey as he stood from his chair.
"I must say I'm rather pleased with your efficiency, and your work has left an indelible impression on me...", Mr. Bailey continued as his shifty eyes dived straight towards Vanessa's gaping skirt hemline and his still hardened dick twitched within the confines of his Y-brief from the sight that greeted his eyes; a barely glittery nude colour patch that looked deliciously inviting. His cock throbbed almost uncontrollably, trying to free itself from the spandex-cotton restraint that was making futile attempts to contain the growing length and girth of his awakening hardness.
Clearing his throat, Mr. Bailey got around his desk and sat at the edge just in front of Vanessa, giving him maximum glimpses of her barely covered nylon crotch that was teasing him, whilst continuing with his conversation. Vanessa was afraid to look at Mr. Bailey and decided to focus straight ahead instead, on his empty chair.
Mr. Bailey kept on with his conversation, interjected occasionally with Vanessa's inputs and replies; with being rooted at the edge of the desk to view something that was more priceless. He had plotted in his mind to get a closer look without much success until he finally gave up and returned back to his chair. He did not even bother to hide the bulge that was protruding through his pants when Mr. Bailey stood up, inches away from Vanessa's face. From the corner of her eyes, she saw the hump that she concluded was probably a huge one, given his 6' stock frame.
As Mr. Bailey plonked himself down on the comfy cushion seat, he thought of how to get a better view of Vanessa's nylon crotch hidden just beneath her skirt. He then accidentally dropped a few pieces of paper that scattered underneath his table. Vanessa was afraid to move her legs and froze still, even as her boss got down on his knees to retrieve each piece, while rambling on with his conversation (or at least pretending to be). He was taking in the magnificent and gorgeous view laid before him.
Oooo...Vanessa! Those fuck-me nylon clad legs of yours!!! I wanna cum all over them!
Mr. Bailey was soaking in the view as much as he could, given the limited time he has, before Vanessa started to get suspicious. His mind was already photographing these priceless moments while simultaneously mind-fucking Vanessa's nylon patch with his eyelids barely batting. Mr. Bailey's cock was pulsating wildly by now, his heart thumping so hard he was gasping for breath. In the next few moments that followed, he realized his mind went blank and entered a state of trance-like hypnotism; his throbbing hard cock won the battle of control even though he not was masturbating. Mr. Bailey did his best to squeeze his pelvic floor muscle but the urge and sexual tension had already gone past the point of no return.
In the midst of picking up the last piece of paper, the full majestic sight of Vanessa's gossamer nylon crotch was too much for him to bare and the inevitable overwhelmed Mr. Bailey's senses and rocked his reality. His cock fired the first shot of spunk, followed by successive multiple shots thereafter like a loose cannon, ejaculating continuously into his Y-brief. Mr. Bailey fantasized shooting his copious loads all over Vanessa's nylon crotch, frothing it with his ivory coloured bodily fluids. He was cumming so hard while on his fours, yet hated himself for his weakness and lack of control which he had so much wanted to save this moment till he was alone with pictures of Vanessa's upskirt to masturbate and fantasize over.
Like the aftermath of a war, the firing gradually subsided while his still-pulsating cock head was bathed thoroughly in the slimy by-product of his insatiable new found lust for Vanessa's pantyhose crotch; images still flashing in his mind as Mr. Bailey tried to recompose himself from the untimely pleasure of his short-lived fantasy.
He finally mustered enough strength to get up and recomposed himself on the chair, careful not to expose the cum soaked patch that had decorated the front of his business pants. A heavily reeked familiar musky scent permeated through the air beneath his table, from his zipper area and stung Mr. Bailey's nostrils, one he had grown familiar with earlier when he was at Vanessa's table. Looking at his watch, it was already 5.27pm and close to knock-off. Vanessa was finally allowed to leave Mr. Bailey's office to finish up the report.
The sweltering heat jolted Vanessa back to reality. She could not risk taking off the blazer because it was the only modesty cover she had. Oh! how she also longed to remove that pair of crummy pantyhose; by this time semi-dried strings of cum had attached itself in between her hosed legs with her pussy lips puckered against the intricately weaved silky nylon gusset.
Wait a minute! Vanessa remembered.
She had kept a few spare pairs of pantyhose in her bottom drawer of her desk in case of any unexpected runners on her nylon-encased legs. This would be as good as any time to wear a fresh and clean pair, she thought.
Her right arm reached down to pull out her bottom drawer unit to see the type of spares she had. There was a pair of Wolford Miss W 30 Leg Support Tights -- this was a matt, semi-sheer tights, with cotton gusset in gobi colour. Another one she found was a pair of Wolford Individual 10 Control Top Tights in caramel colour. Last pair was a Wolford Individual 5 Tights -- this was semi-glossy, ultra-transparent tights.
For a moment, Vanessa was lost in her thoughts while contemplating her choices. Finally, she decided on the Miss W 30 Leg Support Tights which she hoped would cover up any traces of cum that were still clinging precariously between her legs. She made a quick glance at her laptop's time, it read 9:30pm. Damn! Vanessa did not want to stay too long in the office and decided to finish up her work first before changing out of her cum-soiled nylons.