by bobwhite
Author's note: This is a sequel to Adventures In Accountancy, and you should read it first before you delve into this little piece of pink fluff. This one is dedicated to all the ladies who love ladies, but especially one who always has a kind word to say to people who need to hear it.
"With great power comes... aw, fuck it, I can't even finish the sentence," Claire said aloud after she read the email that pretty much told her that she had to cover Accounts Payable for the next couple of weeks. Her recent and unexpected promotion, along with the gift of a magical pair of reading glasses (well, she assumed they were magical, anyway), had given her a few weeks to enjoy an odd combination of productivity and sexual bliss—both, of course, thanks to the ever-helpful and easily persuaded ladies of the office.
As she sat at her coworker's desk, she began to start the menial task of... well, of paying the bills. Everything from the water bill for the Kane warehouse to the retainer fees for the multitude of lawyers "indirectly employed" by the firm had to be paid by someone. Today, Claire was that particular someone. She knew she was in for a long day, and the only refreshing break in the monotony was the brief view of a window washer who was also doing her own menial job. Her name, according to her brown uniform, was Jenny.
As Jenny and some guy called Ben cleaned the windows encasing her temporary office, Claire noticed that she would be getting visits from various contractors who expected payment—and she hoped one of them would be Jenny. Putting on her glasses, she reminded herself that hope was no longer necessary.
By about 2:00 PM, Jenny was hot, tired, a little sweaty, and ready to get paid for the month. The company she worked for cherished accounts like this one—the twenty-story building was practically wrapped in glass, and it was owned by the accountancy firm that resided on the top three floors. They leased out the lower floors to other companies, but covered all janitorial expenses.
Getting money owed to you from this firm was a little easier than getting it from some other companies, and that made working alongside the regular washers worthwhile—after all, without her help, they might not get done on time. And, the customer expected to have clean windows on time, after all.
Since she was there anyway, she decided she would go to Accounts Payable herself to get the payment for the next month. It was an unusual thing to do; the company paid on time every month and there was no indication that things would change—but, while she was working outside, she just suddenly thought it'd be a good idea to cool off in the air-conditioned office and pick up the payment in person. When she got to the office, she found someone who didn't seem to belong there.
"Hi, uh, Mr. Flannigan?" she asked, hoping her joke was clear. This woman, whose shoulder-length blonde hair and cute purple-rimmed reading glasses were only two of the many clues that she was, in fact, not a "mister" at all, looked up and smiled at Jenny.
"No, silly, I'm Claire—Claire Taleinson. I'm just filling in today. I take it you're here for your check?" Claire asked, her hands folded demurely in her lap as she spoke. Her clear glasses seemed to magnify the eyes behind them—eyes that looked right at Jenny... right into her...
It took a few seconds for Jenny to break the spell she seemed to be under, staring into those eyes. She shook her head slightly to clear the cobwebs that had seemingly instantly formed and responded, "oh yeah. I usually wait for it to come in the mail, but..."
"No need to explain. Unfortunately, I don't have the keys to the drawers in this desk. I called for them before you came in, but it'll take about half an hour before someone can dig them up. You're welcome to sit. Would you like something to drink?"
It didn't matter that she was hot—Jenny knew what she wanted. "Coffee, please. Cream and sweetner. Non-dairy, if you have it..."
Claire smiled. "Of course we do. But please, have a seat. There's a really comfortable couch right there," she noted, pointing to the far wall. "I guess it's one of the benefits of having a back injury from your college football days... or so Brent always says. Have a seat, dear, OK?"
Normally, Jenny would protest—but she was tired, more tired than she had realized before she had walked into the office. "That does sound nice," she agreed. As she sat, a secretary—a very pretty girl dressed a little too provocatively for Jenny's taste—delivered a cup of coffee, just how she liked it. As the secretary walked away, Jenny noticed her ass as she walked out—she probably wore a thong; there were no panty lines.
'Jen, stop it—you haven't thought about girls since college!' she thought to herself, suddenly remembering her recent and very bisexual years in business school... she hoped she'd get a job in a place like this after the summer was over. Licking her lips as the tightly-clad woman walked out of the office and closed the door, she took her first sip of the coffee.
As the coffee flowed into her mouth and down her throat, she felt the heat radiate through her belly—and she started to get warm again. Almost as warm, in fact, as she was when she was working outside. After another drink, the warmth was getting more noticeable and a bead of sweat rolled down her temple. She wasn't sure, but she thought she felt sweat—or some other wetness—on other parts of her body, too.
Deciding that, since her work day for her was done, she could relax for awhile; she unbuttoned her uniform shirt, revealing a dark violet tank top. It was dark anyway, but the sweat of the day (and of the last few minutes) had made it a little darker in a few spots. Looking down, she was surprised to see her nipples making little points atop her tits.
'It must be the air conditioning,' she figured as they actually got harder. If it didn't feel so good, she would have found it painful. She snuck a glance up at the accountant behind the desk, who was apparently occupied with her computer. In the reflection of her glasses, she could see a greenish glow—whatever she was looking at, it had her full attention; she was typing frantically.
The pretty woman would probably not notice if Jenny quickly—and ever-so-discretely—reached up to rub her nipples, to calm them down a little; at least, that's what she thought. So, she reached up slowly, like she was adjusting her bra or her top, and with her palms, massaged her nipples in an attempt to give them just enough attention to make them "stand down."
At least, that was the plan. When her palms hit her nipples, the sensation was unbelievably hot. So hot, in fact, that her thumbs closed in on the nipples from above, meeting her index fingers from below—with the nipple in between. She really had no choice in the matter; her hands simply took control. It felt so good, she was reluctant to let go, opting instead to twist them slightly.
She only let go when she remembered that she was not alone, and that the hottie at the desk was looking right at her with one eyebrow raised. Jenny wasn't sure, but it looked like she was licking her lips, too. Jenny dropped her hands slowly, rationalizing her actions as just an adjustment of her sweaty clothing.
When Claire went back to work, though, Jenny suppressed a little moan—she was excited at being caught! That, and the fact that the coffee she'd been drinking was continuing to warm her up, made her realize that she had to take off at least her uniform shirt to cool down. So, off it went. She glanced up once more to make sure Claire wasn't looking, and reached up quickly and pinched her nips—hard.
Her moan did draw the attention of the busy accountant, but only briefly.
After a couple of minutes, Jenny was too warm to sit still. She knew her pants were keeping her too warm, and it made sense to unbutton them a little—just like her last boyfriend used to do after a big dinner. Doing this, though, exposed her black, cotton panties. They looked sweaty to her, so she felt them with her hands to see if they were dry or not.
As her fingertips roamed over the front of her underwear, they inadvertently traveled beneath where her pants still covered her crotch and slipped down... and she immediately found the source of the heat in her pants. The panties above her pussy were definitely soaked! She rubbed the area firmly with her fingers; the action made her hips move a bit and she realized, too late, that she had started to moan a little bit. When she did notice the sounds she had made, her eyes darted towards the desk to see if her noises had been noticed.
Seeing Claire looking right at her crotch with an intense look on her face gave her the answer she needed. Humiliation flooded her, and she began to flush all over. She didn't know what to say—here she was, rubbing herself (and unable to really stop) in front of a strange woman—and she had been caught! The delicious embarrassment seemed to fuel her fire more and more, and her heat grew to the point that she needed an excuse to take off her tank top, even if it was in front of the tasty treat behind the desk.
Claire cut off her train of thought, though, by politely stating, "If you're hot, then go ahead and take off your shirt and cool down. The air is cool in here, and the door is locked. Nobody will walk in on you."
The absurd idea suddenly seemed logical to Jenny, and she quickly removed the purple garment. Her sports bra came off with it, but she hardly noticed—the goddess of a woman who had been watching her had drawn the blinds to the windows and was approaching...
...and she was not wearing anything below the waist.
Jenny, overcome with lust, could take no more. The sight of the beautiful, shaved pussy in front of her—and quickly getting closer—was the only thing she needed to see to know that she was still overdressed for the activities that were about to begin. Her pants and underwear came off in seconds flat, and she sat on the couch, legs spread, openly masturbating.
"Have you ever been with a woman before?" Claire asked as she walked towards the couch.
"Yes, several times... in... uh... mmm... college," Jenny said as her fingers started to slide in and out of her cunt. Somehow, this did not seem unusual to her—not that it would have mattered to Claire.
"How long has it been?" Claire inquired as she began to play with herself, stroking her clit. As she did so, the feeling was somehow reciprocated in Jenny's own clit—driving her desire, and her hand's speed, into overdrive.
"uh... uh... t-two months..." Jenny stammered, overcome with the sensations of her own hands combined with the strange perception that she could actually feel what Claire was doing to herself.
"Far too long, sweetie," Claire casually said as she stood on the couch and put her clitty right in front of Jenny's mouth. The naked, writhing woman didn't need to be told what to do. She leaned her head forward, tongue-first, and slid her pink mouth muscle onto the offered box in front of her, drawing the clitty into her mouth with just a little suction.
"Mmmm, yes, oh... mmm, don't fucking stop with that tongue... we only have a few minutes," Claire warned as she started thrusting her hips forward and back, riding the window washer's face with vigor.
Jenny didn't care... the taste, smell, and feel of Claire's twat sliding around and over her mouth was all that mattered at that point. With her hands, Jenny began to really work her own pussy—fingers on one hand were concentrating on her clit while the other was busy working Claire's cunt. Her fingers slid in and out of the accountant with ease and skill—she had been truly adventurous in college with the ladies and that experience was not going to waste!
'I'm so... close... we're going to cum... oh, so soon... oh...'
And, as soon as that thought occurred to her, the accountant above her began to shake almost uncontrollably, rubbing her crotch into Jenny's mouth and lower face with such speed and erotic force that Jenny knew she'd be able to taste her for at least the rest of the day—and that thought excited her to no end.
When Claire finally did cum, she did so almost into Jenny's mouth—but Jenny was too busy with her own climax to notice.
When she had finally come down from her post-orgasmic high, Jenny tentatively licked Claire (who was still standing above her, albeit with slightly trembling legs) clean, making her gasp and shudder a little with each lap of her tongue. Claire then sank down into Jenny's lap, slipped her hands around her new toy, and embraced her.
After a few moments of impromptu cuddling, the secretary unlocked the door and came in. Not noticing the freshly spent women on the couch, she laid some keys down on the desk, and announced as she left, "here's the keys for the check drawer, hon. Return them to Facilities when you're done."
Jenny looked into the eyes of her bespectacled lover and said, "I thought you told me it was locked."
"It doesn't matter, does it? You like the danger of getting caught. Now, get dressed. You have a check to collect, remember?"
Coming back to herself slowly as she got dressed, she had pretty much forgotten the experience by the time her uniform shirt—which, along with the other clothes she'd shed, was as completely dry as it was when she'd taken it off—was buttoned up. She took the check, which was sitting on the desk, and politely thanked the woman sitting there.
"Don't mention it; you earned it. See you next month, Jenny?" Claire asked. Her tone was so innocent that it would not have been surprising to anyone who heard it to see a halo appear over her head.
"Uh, well, I don't normally do this personally, but sure. It's been fun. Hopefully, you have the keys next time! See ya later, uh, Claire, is it?"
"Yep. Come back anytime," Claire chimed as the uniformed window washer walked away. She knew full well that Jenny would be making many future trips to the office.
'Maybe she could use a job around at the firm. She certainly had good training in college... and, her education probably wasn't too bad, either,' she mused as she got back to work. She was feeling satisfied, and as she checked the itemized invoices on her screen, she wondered if she'd need to take Erika home that night after all.
© 2004, bobwhite, emc.bobwhite@gmail.com. All rights reserved.