Already I regret not putting panties on. My little nutsack is so cold, but that was in the agreement I had to sign when I started- While on company time you shall never ever wear panties of any kind on these premises. But the second line made me sad- While on company time you will never ever cum, cream, ejaculate, sauce, pump, spew, drip, shoot, unload, leak, blow, chum, evacuate and/or otherwise orgasm your useless sperm on these premises without the express consent of your immediate supervisor. Well that sounds like eight hours of bullshit at work, but a gurl's gotta work, right??

Sitting at my desk trying to get warm, I see Mr. Bigg pass by. Thousand dollar Italian suit, at least 10K of goods on his thick stubby fingers. Impeccably preened but looking all of the crusty 70 years he is. Then there is the smell of the $37 dollar Cohiba Esplendido's he smokes. Makes me sick, but I have a job to do. And the routine that he hired me for is about to start.
He buzzes me to bring in the briefs from last night. I am to gather them up, walk down the hall and into his office where his sitting behind a huge, beautiful desk. I then walk behind the desk and stand next to him to his right. I lay the briefs in front of him and spread them out, where he leans forward pretending to read them. He then leans back, looks me up and down. The clause I signed also had a dress code: button down blouses, skirts only above the knees (no dresses), nylons with or without garter, high heels that must show the toes, painted nails always (he paid me a small bonus to grow my fingernails and match paint them, didn't know why at first).
He tells me to read the first paragraph for him on the folder furthest away. Of course I need to bend over the desk where I take the folder and lean on my elbows. It isn't long before I feel his warm hand running up and down my calves, taking his time to work up my legs and to my thighs. This lasts a few minutes as I hear grunt noises from him, it means I dressed properly. Now he massages my ass, making sure I am following policy- no panties. He never, ever touches my other sissy parts. I wish he would but he says "I'm not paying you to play with you". Eight long hours without being touched or having some sweet relief...so sad.
But now here is where his fun begins. He removes his right hand from under my skirt and sticks his well manicured thumb into a leftover glass of 14 year old Cognac. I know it must be expensive as he enjoys the aroma from is finger. Smiling he lifts my skirt and slowly inserts his thumb deep into my pucker hole. He starts twisting and rolling it around, looking for a sign from me. Me? I am still reading the damn brief and already on the third page.
That does feel good having my hole played with like that, he's seems to be enjoying also as he looks for my voice to start to waver a little. I hear a light chuckle as he now focus his attention on my skirt front. Here is the deal: if I do not get aroused from his thumb play he will remove it, dismiss me and I get the rest of the day off. Yea right, that hasn't ever happened yet.
So there he is working me and listening to my voice crack, and watching the front of my skirt slowly, slowly start to tent out. He starts to chortle as he pushes that thumb deeper, and the deeper he pushes, the bigger my tent grows. It is all I can do to keep my legs from wobbling, I wish he would just fondle me, touch me just once as he takes me. I am so worked up. By the way his office door is wide open. Clients, generic women, partners, other "employees" like me, even the janitor as they pass by whistle or make lewd comments. Some stick their head in and ask him questions. But he is too intent on what's to come. Me, I wonder which one of them will take his place when he is done with me.
Biting down on the stub of his cohiba, he intently watches my bulging skirt for the slightest hint of wetness. That thumb feels so good it is inevitable I will ooze at any moment. I cannot believe I get paid to have this rich old bastard finger fuck me. The job would be a dream if he would finish me. But he will never, he is the boss, he calls the shots. Besides even if he brought me off, there is the return favor- the rest of my job. He flinches for a moment, I know he just saw it. And here it comes.............
He roughly rips his thumb from my asshole, and shoves the first two fingers in his mouth for some grateful moistness. When he takes a whiff of the thumb from my bud his nostrils flare, he lets out a deep, grunting laugh. I clinch my fists and brace myself as I know what's about to come. He then lifts my skirt and crudely jambs those two moist fingers hard and deep into my poor wrinkler (depending on the night he had with his old lady, I sometimes get 3 fingers. Guess he got some last night). My poor clitty just turned to solid stone as he rubs my gurly gland with a purpose. Sadly that purpose will never happen. Now he is rubbing as well as pumping me slow and fast, a little twist here and there. I have long stopped reading by now and getting so worked up. My thighs bouncing against the desk, more snickers and chuckles from the doorway. The way he massages my walnut- mmmm, I could so easily orgasm this way. But I know he would never allow me to break company policy.
My time approaches, and he knows it. My skirt is soaked, my moans almost embarrassing. I'm so flushed, tears coming from my eyes. My little sac is stirring into a frenzy with the continued onslaught to my tunnel. A hint of semen is starting to work its way from my loins. And then, with a hearty laugh, timed to perfection as he always does, he crassly rips the fingers out of my sphincter, leans back in his plush leather chair, lifts a well maintained Gucci shoe and vulgarly, harshly kicks me off his desk onto the floor. Yes it hurt as I go sprawling down onto the thick carpet, my skirt up around my waist as I roll around the floor showing my disappointment at being so expertly aroused and have nothing come of it but my solid gurly erection waving in the breeze.
To be continued................