Microsoft Word tells me I’ve had this story sitting in my “Shoes” folder since I first started writing it on 26th March 2011. Since then, I’ve dipped in and out, and yet never quite managed to finish it. I’m hoping the fact that I’m publishing it here might spur me on to get parts two and three licked into shape!
I’d always been a man’s woman – straight down the line, no deviating. Quite frankly, there’s nothing absolutely no better feeling in the world than a thick, hard cock inside you, and for a long time nothing could convince me otherwise. Until, that is, I met Sarah.
I was a junior solicitor in the City law firm where she was one of the senior partners. To say Sarah was a force to be reckoned with was an understatement. She had more than held her own in a man’s world for nearly 20 years, and done so with gusto and aplomb. Her sexual appetite was legendary, yet despite this, she somehow never managed to fall into that female predicament of being labelled a slut and it harming her professional reputation.
I had scant dealings with her during my first three months at Walker and Richards, and had barely exchanged three words with her when I came across her in the corridor one day joking with a couple of junior partners. “The thing is, for you men it’s so much easier to have a crafty wank at work”, I heard her say. “Whip it out in the toilets, and Bob’s your uncle. We women have it so much harder – it’s hard to get comfortable, and frankly the mood lighting and soft music in these places really leave a lot to be desired.” At this point, she noticed me standing in the doorway, and winked. “Isn’t that right, Edwards?”.
I blushed a deep red and stammered “Err…I suppose so…” I knew I had to recover my composure fast; weakness would not get me anywhere. “Mind you”, I therefore carried on, emboldened by the glint in her eye, “the toilets here are probably better than in most places from that point of view. Better privacy.” Sarah laughed, and said, with surprise in her voice; “quite right, Edwards, quite right…maybe we should try it out together sometime. Test the facilities, so to speak?” I smiled – her mocking tone was infectious – “Why not?” I smirked, staring her straight in the eye whilst trying hard to conceal the butterflies that were going crazy in my stomach. “Well,” she responded, “there’s no time like the present”. With that, she hooked her arm in mine, and excused us both from the open-mouthed men.
As we marched purposefully down the corridor laughing in a sense of female solidarity, she turned to me and whispered “So – what do you reckon? Up for it?” At this point my father’s warning words never to get involved with anyone from work flashed through my head. I was sure he had middle-aged, cigar-toting brutes in mind when he made that warning – but probably never a woman?! There was no denying it, however, she already had me under some kind of spell, and without even thinking, I shot back; “Like I said – why not?”
“I was hoping you would say that” she smiled, and steered me towards the lift. Neither of us said a word as we went up to the senior partner’s floor, and walked towards the ladies’ toilets there. As one of the few women in that position, these were effectively her private facilities. She stopped to check her makeup in the mirror, then turned to me and gestured towards the cubicle; “Ladies first”.
I was too far in at this point; if this was some kind of strange initiation ceremony, I had to go through with it. There was definitely no backing down. Besides, despite my common-sense screaming at me, I was curious. And wet, soaking wet. I hesitated briefly, before going into the cubicle, shutting the toilet lid and siting down. Sarah squeezed in behind me and locked the door. She looked at me expectantly, but said nothing.
To Be Continued