A Quickie in the Commodore's Office

Her entire body rolled and surged slowly, comfortably back against him, snakelike and obscene. I couldn't get over her belly, the sexiest I'd ever seen, a glorious expanse of tempting flesh now marked red by the guy's gripping fingers. Her lips, ruby red and plump, fell open suddenly underneath her sharp little nose, and I saw her fingers clench against the desk. His were very busy inside her bra, messing with her nipple. "Keep going, slick," she breathed. "You're really getting my motor running."

"Same here, babe." The voice was possessive, almost savage, in her ear. "You're gorgeous." The hand at her waist was moving with unstoppable force down toward where the dress was bunched above her hips. "My hands still cold?" he teased.

She giggled. "You know they're not." She laid her fingers atop his where they roved across her abs, pushing his hand slowly lower. "Even if they were, I think I'd find a way to warm them up."

I watched, knowing what was about to happen, staring at two entranced, reddening faces, at two trembling hands moving lower and lower, at the pale expanse of the girl's belly giving way to the dark blue of her gathered gown, the hands disappearing behind the folds; a few more thick, lust-crazed moments of tension and then both of them seemed to deflate, their arms straight down toward her groin, their eyes snapping open as his hand found her pussy.

I was trembling right along with them. Shit. This was hotter than anything I'd ever seen before. I was puzzled. I guess I'd always thought of sex during the fifties as a boring, awkward thing done with the lights off, possibly with bags over everyone's heads, all furtive and shameful and over as quickly as possible.

This... wasn't that.

Her hips were dancing now, rolling lewdly against his fingers, his other hand still gripping tightly to the flesh of her tit as if he'd lose his balance without it. I heard hot, misty breathing, felt the sweat coming out once more beneath my clothes, saw saliva begin to roll down her collarbone from his mouth. The muscles of his right forearm, the one controlling the hand down her panties, bulged and flowed rhythmically beneath the sleeve of his suit jacket.

She was pressing hard against him now, backing off from the desk, and her gown was slithering down her sleek thighs under its own weight. I watched, totally unable to breathe, as more of her came into view: first the last shred of her abs, tapering sleekly as I'd known they would; then the dull, practical sheen of her thick satin panties, the hands inside writhing like a sackful of snakes, and finally the smooth skin and powerful muscles of her fine, sturdy thighs, coming at last into view as the gown finally gave up.

Her face was already twisted into a harsh, mouth-breathing grimace, her eyes wide open now and looking someplace else as her breathing got deeper and slower. Dimly I could see his face too, over her shoulder, proud and fierce as he got her off; she had her knees spread as far as they could go while her ankles remained imprisoned by the gown, and she swung her hips over his fingers with no thought of decency or shame. He was staring at her naked neck, at her writhing body, still on her feet only because his big hands and strong arms were holding her up.

"Oh my gosh," she squeaked at one point, very low and fast, and her hand wasn't letting his go anywhere but right where it was, clamped hard against her mound with his fingers no doubt swirling inside her vagina. "Keep doing that."

"You know it, baby." The guy's voice was a low, conceited hiss, the sound of sheer lust. "Better enjoy it while you can, though, because I'm gonna want to get my jollies too."

"Shut your mouth, slick." The girl was plainly not in the mood for a conversation. She was about to orgasm, right there in front of me; I could tell it from the scarlet flush on her chest. Lizzy had always done the same thing when she came. "Just... yeah... keep doing that," she repeated, her voice a strained murmur, and then she was there, her whole body shaking, the big guy gloating over her shoulder as he gripped her tight, both hands clutching at her. She lost her balance, flailing with her free hand at the desktop, and then she braced herself, gritted her teeth, and rode it out, gasping, her face beet-red.

The guy clearly had no real idea what he had just done; he only knew she wanted him to keep on doing it, so he obeyed, dutifully, like a robot. "Ahhh..." she moaned at last, shaking her head after about thirty seconds or so. She let herself slump back against him, both arms going lazily back up to wrap around his neck again. "You had me flipping out there, pal. Holy jeez." She let her head flop back against his shoulder, staring up at him with liquid eyes, and at last he got the message that he could stop.

"You're welcome, baby," he crowed, yanking his hand out of his panties as if he'd been scorched. His fingers, I could see, were gleaming. "I think you pissed on my hand."

"That's not piss," she told him flatly, puckering; she was expecting a smooch, and he obliged her indifferently. It was obvious that she was a far, far better kisser than he was, but I could tell it didn't matter; he still had a handful of tit and his fingers were still greasy with whatever he'd pulled out of her snatch, and this was the point where he needed to just shut up and keep doing what he was told. He was, I could see, heading for an incredible time with the sexiest woman he'd ever find.

So he licked dutifully at her face, loosening his arms so that she could twist around, and now I was looking at her sublime ass in the satin panties. I saw him grab her there, squeezing as if he was checking on a loaf of bread at a supermarket, and then she eased away from him. "Now then, Carl," she said, low and sexy again, the smoke back where it belonged, "you go sit on that little sofa over there and take your pants down. I'll show you something."

"Something?" He grinned down at her, cocksure, wanting to make sure she'd seal the deal. "You gonna go all the way, you little tease?"

She smacked at his jacket. "Sooner you get over there, the sooner you'll find out," and even though she was facing away from me I could almost see the wink and the smile I knew had to be there. The big guy's grin tightened as his eyes moved down her lush body, standing there just for him, and he tossed his head as he took a step back toward the new maroon sofa.

"Got a ride home, babe?" he asked as he slid his jacket off. He was wearing short sleeves and a skinny tie, like me. "I'd be happy to... give you a ride." He winked, stupidly, and I cringed on his behalf.

A girl like this would eat him alive.

"Take off your pants," she replied calmly, standing with straight, cotillion posture. "We can get a lot farther that way, honey." The guy was already working at his fly, his grin morphing darkly into a smirk, with a slightly cruel twist to it. I couldn't see it when he finally got his trousers down, as the girl was blocking my view, but I saw her hair stir as she nodded. "Yeah. Gwendolyn told me you were big."

"Big enough, sweetheart," he shrugged, and as he took his seat I could see it at last: Gwendolyn, whoever she was, had been right. She'd also probably spent days recovering from whatever he'd done to her. He was long and thick, both at the same time, his penis huge and dark and threatening, and he clearly knew it. He sprawled back into the corner of the sofa, kicking off one of his shoes and pulling that foot through his pants leg so that he could spread himself wide. "Come and get it."

I heard her laugh again, completely unintimidated, and then she was stepping out of her gown and moving toward him with a catwalk sway, working at her bra as she went. I couldn't see her tits once she got the thing off, just her back; but I didn't need to. I could see the guy's reaction to what he was seeing, and that told me all I needed to know.

They'd be luscious, high and firm and round, with that special jiggle most women lose once they reach a certain age. Like, 25 or so. She didn't stop in front of him, didn't pose or preen or show herself off; she didn't need to. She'd already made him hard as a rock, and both of them felt it was time to get on with things. She knelt as soon as she reached him, his thick hairy legs widening to let her come close, and then I saw her hands run straight up his thighs and disappear around the far side of her body, just as his head dropped against the back of the couch. "Yeah," he muttered. "Going to give me a little head there, babe?"

"Is that what you want?" Her head dipped gracefully, and I heard the smothering noise of a tongue meeting a dick and I felt my face go red. She came back up slowly, with a loud smack. "Your pecker tastes lousy, Carl."

"Hey!" He gave her a mocking scowl, then pulled his shirt up and swung his hands behind his head. "Man, I could look at those knockers all night long, baby. You're one classy chick, you know that?"

"Thanks." I saw the girl straighten as she knelt, her hands once more riding over his thighs. She gave a little shimmy. "Glad you like them."

"Whoa," the guy said, his eyes narrowing greedily. "I can't believe this."

"Want me to wrap them around your... your dick?" She moved closer, and I saw his mouth water as he gazed down his torso at her; she leaned in, and I heard two sighs. "How do you like that, Carl?"

"Man oh man," he burbled, trying to keep it together. He watched, still with that deep, harsh greed, as she moved her body up and down. I could see where her hands were pushing against the sides of her boobs, and before long his joined in, the two of them playing quietly. "This is incredible." He was hunching up against her now; I could see his legs twitching as he thrust slightly, and once or twice I saw her neck appear as she bent down to give him a lick, a suck, or both. "Baby, you're no disappointment," he giggled. "Those tits..."

"Mm," I heard her groan, her head down again, and the guy's head fell back once more, his mouth open wide and his hands slack on her shoulders. I heard smacking, sucking noises, the souplike sounds of a really first-rate blowjob from a hot woman, and it went on for a few hours to that lewd, nasty soundtrack.

Shit. My coke was wearing off again, or maybe I'd never taken it in 1958. I felt a warning twinge as my dick started to rise. The two kids on the sofa were getting into it now, his eyes closed and her whole body working, until he gave a warning grunt and patted the side of her head. "Hold on, sweetheart," he said, and there was real tension in his voice. "I'm almost ready to go, here."

"Almost ready to go where?" I heard her laugh again, and then she was uncoiling, rising, her muscles twisting her to her feet with unconscious grace. "From what I can tell, bub, you're already there."

He shrugged against the couch; I could see him take deep breaths, regaining control. "Well, you know. I mean, I was hoping... that is, you know."

"No, I don't." She stood perfectly still, and I could see goosebumps coming out across her back. "What were you hoping?"

"Like, I wanted a little tail, you know." He seemed edgy at last, perhaps aware of how thuggish he sounded, and he looked away. "Come on, babe. You can't leave me like this." Indeed; I could see his cock again, straining, brutally tense.

"A little tail." She was mocking him, but I could hear a lively sense of triumph in her voice; she wanted it, too. "You're so romantic." She was already sliding the panties down her legs, though, and Carl and I watched as her two ends came into view; what he was getting made his eyes open wide, but what I got was simply the best ass I'd ever seen, juicy and tight and jiggling with youthful liveliness. I wondered whether she heard me gasp. She stepped delicately out of her underwear, her legs going high like a hurdler's, and then she was lowering herself down and forward, their legs meeting as she straddled his thighs and planted her knees on the couch.

I was holding my breath.

"Let's play," she murmured, and then his fingers were tightening on her naked hips as she rose up, her arm reaching with languid ease behind and beneath her to position his dick, but it wasn't necessary: he was hard as steel, straight and strong, and in the end she just had to shift forward a bit, line up, and go into that slow, sensual descent, the hot slithering motion as he parted her and thrust up, instinctively, and I was amazed that such a short woman would have so little trouble taking a dick that big in one go.

She must be gushing like a garden hose.

I was fascinated. I'd seen girls have sex before, but only ever with me. This put a whole new spin on things. I watched, hypnotized, as her perfect ass settled atop his thighs, the two of them hitching themselves around, getting cozy. I could see where she was mashing his balls between his legs. His entire bulky shaft was right up in her now, and it had to be packing her completely. She showed no sign of distress, though, straddling him with her body slack and easy, in total control of herself. And of him too, really; the fingers he now traced over her asscheeks were shuddering.

It must feel amazing, a pussy like that wrapped around your dick. I reached unconsciously down to adjust my pants.

"How's that?" Her taunt was low and hoarse. "Getting your jollies yet, buddy?" And then she leaned in and her head went sideways and I heard teeth collide as she snacked on his tongue, but I wasn't paying attention to that part: she'd started to fuck him at the same instant, and frankly there was nothing else in the world worth paying attention to.

She moved with sublime grace, her hips and thighs grinding smoothly across his legs, backward and forward and sideways and all around, giving an absolute clinic. From time to time I watched, amazed, as his dick popped clear when she chose to pull off him; always it was gleaming, glossed with her juices and faintly frothy, every ridge and vein shining in the office light.

They were really working it, the two of them totally compatible; there was never a moment of awkwardness, and they never lost synchronicity. When she needed to rest, she came down and swiveled herself into him, shivering as he ran his stubby fingers up and down her bare back. The grunting and groaning began after two, maybe three minutes, and mostly it came from him. "Huh," he said at last, sounding strained and tense, "you're too much, baby."

She replied with an impertinent pivot to her hips, laughing again low and fast. "You're not so bad yourself." Their bodies flowed. "You seem like a fellow who's done this before."

"Likewise." He was losing it, quickly now, and for the first time he showed a little urgency, a little nervousness, as he reached around to smack her butt. "Get off, babe. I've got to stick it in from behind."

"Yeah?" She didn't sound like the prospect alarmed her. I was learning a lot about fifties girls. "Sure thing. Over the desk, sugar?"

"Over whatever you can find," he confirmed, breathless, and then I shrank back from the doorway as she burst into motion, dismounting with a dancer's fluidity and spinning to drop her arms down to the desk. I was watching her face all of a sudden, flushed and gorgeous, her mouth open in a wide, daring grin as she glanced back over her shoulder to watch him as he stepped up to her, his right foot still trailing his trousers across the floor. "Whoah, girl. That's something I could look at forever." He was staring straight down at her round, glorious ass, and she wagged it for him. He gave a low chuckle at that. "Christ." His dick stood out obscenely long and hard in front of him above his two low-hanging balls, his shaft practically dripping as he tipped it down toward her with one hand, the other resting lightly on the side of her hip. "Get ready, baby."

"I was born ready." She was still looking back, and I saw her breasts dangling low and firm, their hard dark nipples brushing the desktop. His eyes lit up, he held his breath, and then he watched openmouthed as he entered her again. "Wow," she murmured, her head hanging down at last, and with a snarl of victory the guy pushed forward into her. He didn't stop until her thighs hit the edge of the desk, the two of them shuffling forward until she was bent all the way over, offering herself to him. They both exhaled slowly as he backed out again, their eyes on fire.

"Hell yeah," he agreed, exultant, and then with a loud squeaking noise the heavy desk jerked two inches across the floor as he thrust forward, hard and vicious, and then their bodies were slapping like an audience clapping during a particularly fast version of Benny and the Jets, sharp and staccato and rock steady, with no signs of stopping.

She was the one grunting now, her hands moving randomly across the desk as if she was trying to get a grip on something, anything, to give her leverage against the savage fucking he was giving her. There was no way he'd last long, that was for sure; he was a powerful young man, but he'd been awfully close over there on the couch, and every neuron in his brain had to be screaming at him now, urging him to blast his sperm into such a fine, willing woman. His face was reddening again, his mouth now in a hard, set line as he hauled her back and forth; almost imperceptibly, his strokes began to get deeper and deeper.

I saw her lips pull back in a determined, exhilarated grimace as she came again, her body shaking violently around his cock, and then he was losing it at last, his fingers in a death-grip around the points of her hips as he held her tight against his body and unloaded inside her. She gasped, her eyes flapping wide open when she felt him cum, but neither one of them was in the mood to stop as they rode their orgasms out, moving in that slow, liquid way that only happens right at the end. He gave four harsh, gusting sighs, and she responded like a congregation echoing a preacher, the two of them relaxing with big smiles and lidded eyes.

Breath exhaled, fluids merged, and slowly the girl slumped her body down onto the desktop, her magnificent tits squashed beneath her chest as she recovered. He blinked, gave one more thrust, and then backed out of her with a strangely bashful sense of shame. "Uh, wow," he spluttered. He frowned a moment. "Should I have pulled out, or something?"

She laughed again from inside her disarrayed hair. "Nah. I'll just douche when I get home; it'll be fine." I gaped through the cracked-open door, but she sounded like she believed it. She gathered herself slowly, doing a pushup motion to get her body off the desk, and then she turned slowly to rest her ass on its edge. "Thanks, bub. That was really something."

His eyes lit up. "I know. Do it again sometime?" They both gave a dry and very grown-up chuckle; they'd never see each other this way again, I knew with a strange certainty. A flash of insight told me she'd be leaving school soon. A girl like her wasn't about to rot away in a classroom. "Need anything?" he asked doubtfully. He was already bending to pull his pants back up, and she just sat naked and watched him.

"No thank you." He got dressed with what a modern couple would consider undue haste, not even wiping his scummy penis off as he stuffed it, still slightly hard, back into his underwear. "Just shut the door behind you."

"No sweat." He tucked his coat under his arm, twitched his shirt back into place one more time, and ran a hand through his stubbly hair. I saw him survey the room briefly, looking for traces of himself, but the only thing he was leaving was already in the girl's pussy. "Well," he finished, with a quick and shrewd smile, "you've been a real peach. Catch you later."

"Same here," she replied evenly, and she didn't move as he turned to go.