Dress Code, part 2 - Sex Stories

Dress Code, part 2

... said, “She’s very beautiful,” made it clear that she was used to such events in the boss’s office. “Yes, Miss Jones?” Anne replied, a sense of mild panic setting in as she turned to face Miss Jones coolly beautiful face, with its elegant cheekbones. “Miss Burlington, come here, I can’t let you go out into the office looking like that.” Miss Jones herself had a private office. That is, it was an enclosed antechamber guarding Mr. Slater’s own office, and it had its own door out to the rest of the firm’s hallways. As Anne approached, Miss Jones stood up to meet her. The attractive blonde was a few inches taller, and her heels were higher as well, more like stilettos than Anne’s somewhat more demure pumps. The effect was that the assistant seemed to tower over Anne, making her feel even less in control. “Your face is a mess, dear,” Miss Jones said, reaching out with her finger and touching Anne’s cheek. She showed Anne her finger, and Anne realized to her shock that the secretary’s finger had wiped off a significant drop of Mr. Slater’s semen from the corner of her mouth. To Anne’s amazement, Miss Jones took her finger into her own mouth and very demonstratively licked it clean. “Tastes good, doesn’t he, dear?” With that, she stepped away from Anne and looked her up and down appraisingly. “It’s going to be hard to go through the rest of the day without a bra, won’t it? Those nipples are exceptionally perky and responsive.” The other woman’s words were somewhat mocking, but her ...

... tone was not unfriendly. Anne blushed once more, and her face felt as if it was burning. She risked a look down at her breasts and saw to her dismay that her nipples were more than just “perky”; they were fully erect, and immediately evident to anyone who gave her even a cursory glance. How would she go through the rest of the day? “You’re a no doubt resourceful girl -- you’ll find a way to hide those away as the day goes by. However…” With that word, the assistant crouched down in front of Anne. She ran her hands up Anne’s calves, making her tremble. Miss Jones commented, “You keep your legs exceptionally smooth. It may not even be apparent to some of the men in the firm that you are not wearing stockings. The women will no doubt notice; then again, we have faced certain consequences for not complying with the dress code.” Miss Jones’s hands did not stop, however, at the hem of Anne’s skirt, and they continued upwards along her thighs. Before Anne could even respond to the older woman’s actions, her top hand reached the top of her thighs. Anne felt her heart in her throat as Miss Jones’s hands caressed her inner thighs. “My goodness, is this sweat or is this … you?” Miss Jones murmured in surprise. Her other hand reached her pussy and she inserted a deft finger between Anne’s lips. “It’s not just your nipples that are responsive, it seems. My dear, you are sopping wet,” the assistant remarked as her finger expertly manipulated Anne’s vagina. Anne gasped as Miss Jones’s finger ...