.

I won’t forget this one time, in fact I remember it quite clearly. Why? Because it was the day after I got my car. Strangely, my wife wasn’t the first passenger I had in the car. Natalie was. It was a little bit of a dangerous game then. Now that I try to recall, certain things may not be as clear as I think it is.

There’s something I dislike – having my keys in my pockets, or coins for that matter. Anything else that’s not my phone, in my mind don’t belong in pockets; it’s just too uncomfortable. So I have a habit of taking out my keys placing them on the table whenever I get to my desk at the office. Natalie on the other hand, has the habit of greeting me in her own special ways (depending on who arrived first) – conveniently because our cubicle’s situated adjacent to each other. This habit of hers began ever since our tryst at Capri.

She wore a short, blue tube dress that Friday morning. As she walked by my cubicle, she gave me a wink, placed her hand on my desk, and stood less than a feet away from me. I could feel her presence even without turning my head. Half the office was away on a long weekend while the other half wouldn’t be in for at least another ten minutes – this we knew full well. It was as if she was beckoning me to turn to face her. I obeyed.

I shifted the chair into the cubicle as I turned, and I found her looking right down at me. Hair dyed brown towards the ends, snow white skin, and that trademark, damned kissable lips of hers cheekily grinning away. What a sight to have in the morning. If only I knew what the grin was hiding I would have stuffed my face into dress then lifted her skirt up to find her not wearing any panties – but I didn’t.

“So I see you’ve collected your car. You’re “taking me out to lunch” later, yeah?” her eyes fixated on the car key. You could tell she had something in mind, even without her gesturing the quotation marks in the air with her hands, leaving something on my desk as she turned to her cubicle.

I stared at her ass, looking for that panty outline that would appear from the back from how tight her dress was. She liked wearing tight dresses – not that anyone had any complaints. Not finding any, I waited for her to bend down to slide her bag underneath her desk.

I don’t know if she does this on purpose, but her morning routine involves her sliding her bag. Whenever she does this, she never kneels down. Never. Even before we started fucking – my head has always turned towards her direction when she performed that part of the routine.

That morning, I realized why I couldn’t find the panty line. Initially, I thought it might have been a g-string – I was wrong, she wasn’t wearing anything, and her pussy was clean shaven.

She spent a little longer than usual, fumbling in her bag before sliding the bag under, and removing something else at the same time. As she stood back up and faced me, she had in her hand a pair of leopard print panties and looked at what she left on my table. It was then I realised what the whole get up was.

A vibrating panty.

She slowly approached me and led my left hand under her dress – she was starting to get wet as I slowly played with her clit, moving back and forth slowly, with her slow soft moans coming along with each stroke.

We halted our little moment and gave Natalie the little bit of time to put on her discrete toy. I couldn’t help but admire her chest, ignoring her verbal instructions on the remote she left to me.

“Hey! Are you listening?”

“Nope, how hard can this be anyway?” as I finished, we both flicked our heads towards the sound of glass door opening while I fumbled with the small plastic box I had in my hand to find the on button.

It was faint – but I could make out the dull hum of her toy before she left for her cubicle. Definitely one of the sounds of pleasure and absolutely not dull at all.

As she sat down to prepare for the rest of the day, the hum faded into the background with the central aircon blasting away and her cheeks began to flush red. Her breathing became more laboured too.

Barely ten minutes into her wearing the panties, she was leaning back into her chair with her head turned towards me. Mouthing away, asking me to increase the intensity of the toy so that she could cum.

I ignored her requests and soon she was sitting upright, with legs tucked underneath the chairs towards the rear arching her belly forward to put pressure on her clit with her finger against the seat. Natalie bit her lips with her eyes in an effort to control her breathing. Damn, she was hot, even from the side.

She grabbed her boob over her tube. Her mouth was slightly open and the other hand was moving slightly now. She was essentially masturbating in the office, and was going to have an orgasm at 9.40 a.m.

Fine, I thought. I increased the intensity by two notches, and her faced changed slightly. But you could tell she was loving it, the slight jerks, followed by that slight frown that represented the ecstasy that pulsed through her whole body in brief intermittent bursts.

When she was finished, she swivelled her chair towards me and revealed her panty only to pull it to the side then fingered herself in front of me as she free one boob and squeezed it.

She knew I was hard, she could tell.

“Breakfast?” I asked. With an obvious, ulterior motive.

“Do you even have to ask?

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