Constructive comments welcome at orchidblooming67@yahoo.com.


We are sitting in the large conference room, at a long walnut table that seats 22.  I am seated at the head, the investigator is to my left, and you are to my right.  The room is empty except for us, and silent except for the scratching of the investigator's pen.  Sunlight filters through the blinds of the tall windows behind you, on the exposed brick wall.  She wanted you to sign a sworn statement, but I declined, so she is scribbling notes instead, trying to keep up as you speak.  I am wearing a short, sleeveless black dress with a black jacket over it.  Conservative enough, as long as the jacket stays on.  The dress hits mid-thigh when I'm standing up, but rides up high enough to see the full length of my legs when I sit.  I manage to hold your eyes until I cross my legs.  You look down as I let the shoe fall off my right heel and dangle from my toes.  The black slingbacks have a slim line, with a narrow stiletto heel, and the toe of the shoe curves across the front to show the tops of my toes.  The angle accentuates my high arch and shows off the profile of my muscular calf, and I know you are aching to touch me.  I slide my chair up to the table and lay my notepad down on the top.  If she were paying attention, she would know that something is wrong because a lawyer would never take notes in view.  But she is engrossed with her own documents, so I take a chance.  I let the shoe drop off my toes to the floor, and slide my foot up between your legs.  She looks up and asks you the next question.  I take a perverse pleasure in watching you try to concentrate while my bare toes find the outline of your cock through the fabric of your pants.  You are hard, and I can feel the shape of it as I slide my foot up and down, caressing it.  You casually let one hand fall to your lap, and you grab my foot.  As you stroke my instep with your thumb, you glance down to see my toes wiggling in your lap, with their red-painted toenails, and you just can't take the teasing any more.  She is speaking again, but you can't follow her, so you interrupt, "Counselor, may we take a short break?"  I ask the investigator to excuse us, and I stand up, sliding my foot back into my shoe -- "Mr. Kinsey, will you please join me in my office for a moment?"

You follow me out of the conference room double doors and down the hall towards my office.  As we walk by my secretary's desk, she looks up at us, but I don't see the questioning look that she gives you as we pass.  I am preoccupied thinking about being alone with you, and you are absorbed in watching my legs as I walk down the hall in front of you.  I shut the door behind you after you follow me into my office.  I turn towards you and grab your tie, pulling you down to me.  Our tongues meet and the passion is explosive.  I reach down and start to unzip your pants, but you pull back and say, "No, you first."  You take my hand and pull me around behind my desk, and push me down by the shoulders into my blue leather chair.  You kneel down on the floor in front of me, and spread my thighs with your hands.  My legs are muscular and smooth, silk over steel.  The contrast is irresistible, and you are intensely aroused -- you pause for a moment to admire the line of my legs, down my calves to the heels still on my feet.  Adding to the excitement is the thought of my secretary sitting at her desk just outside the door, knowing that we could be discovered any moment.  You hook a finger under my black lace thong and pull it out of the way.  You flick your tongue quickly over my clit, teasing, paying me back for what I did to you in the conference room, knowing that you aren't giving me enough.  I whisper an anguished plea, and in answer you sink your finger deeply into my wet hole while you stroke my clit with your tongue.  It only takes a moment and I begin to shudder and moan, until your other hand clamps down on my mouth to silence me.  The release is exquisite, and I am lost in bliss until you whisper sternly in my ear, "My turn."  You pull me up onto shaking legs and spin me around, grabbing me roughly by the neck, and push me face down on the desk.  You pull my thong down to my knees while you unzip your pants and pull your cock out of your pants.  You slide my dress up over my hips and grab me hard with your left hand, your fingers sinking into my flesh.  Risking the noise, you smack my ass sharply, hard enough to leave a handprint.  A small cry escapes me, and you lean over and whisper in my ear again, "That's for being a tease."  I can't see you, so I gasp as I feel your rock-hard cock slide deeply into me, in one deep stroke.  I moan again, more loudly than before -- I know that you will punish me for this later as well, but I can't help it, the sensation is overwhelming.  You pump in and out of me with long strokes -- my thighs burn and I feel your thumbs digging into my hips, pulling me back into you in time, my ass smacking hard into your lower belly with each stroke.  You can't control it and I already feel your balls tighten as you explode inside of me.  Just then the intercom buzzes and Cynthia says, "Rachel, the investigator is waiting in the conference room."  I tell her that we will be right there, and as we pull ourselves together I hope that you will be able to concentrate better now.... 

