Blinded by the Light - Sex Stories

Blinded by the Light

... parking lot. “Ms. Maxwell,” he shouted, as he saw her opening the door to her big, black truck, “You forgot your pen!” She turned to see him trotting like an old, fat horse to her vehicle. She opened the door to her SUV and climbed inside as Bob approached her. Then, in the most blatant Sharon Stone/ Basic Instinct move ever made in real life, with her skirt that had “accidentally” been pulled up just enough, she spread her legs ever so slightly so that Bob could see her naked pussy above her thigh high stockings. Right there, practically at eye level, was her mature, hairy, black pussy. Bob was frozen in his tracks. He dropped the pen, sincerely and honestly by accident, but his lingering stare at the heaven between her thighs was anything but accidental. He wanted to ram his face in there and start licking and to hell with the consequences. He didn’t of course. He didn’t do anything but stare. He knew she saw him staring and he felt ashamed and embarrassed for not being able to look away but he couldn’t. The president of the bank could have called his name in that moment and Bob would have said, “Yeah, yeah, gimme a minute.” She extended her hand and he placed the pen gently in her palm. Again, she didn’t even make the civil pretense of saying thank you and that fact made Bob’s cock stir in his sensible and boring suit pants. She was toying with him but he was too inept and socially immature to respond the way any normal male would so he just stood there, words frozen in ...

... his brain, unable to utter a sound. She turned in the seat and pulled her skirt down just a tiny bit. He could still see the tops of her lace top stockings and the straps of her expensive garter belt as he watched her foot press the brake, wishing she would press her perfect foot into his balls in much the same way, as she started the engine. With his hand on the door frame for support, Bob struggled to stand up of his own volition. His knees were weak and about to buckle. And, almost like he was in a dream, he saw her reach for the door and pull it shut, his fingers smashed across the knuckle and the first joint. He didn’t scream out or curse like most people would do, instead, he made a groan, a muffled grunt and said, “Thank you, Mistress,” automatically. It was so spontaneous, so unplanned he almost didn’t hear himself say it. He grabbed his hand and clutched it to his chest with his left hand. She rolled down the window and said, “Grimaldi’s. Tonight. 8:30,” put the car into reverse and backed out of the parking space, almost rolling over Bob’s foot in the process. Dazed, confused, and aroused, Bob stood in the parking lot, his hand throbbing and aching, his libido heightened and aroused. Everyone in the bank was outraged and demanded that he press charges but he insisted that it was his fault, that it was totally an accident. His boss made him leave work early and get x-rays to make sure that no bones were broken. He didn’t care if they were. He had fallen in love with ...