After Hours with Mrs Jenner

A quick one for you this time. I put this one together during a rainy afternoon here in Mexico. In this scene, Sam, a young driver, takes his truck back to the yard one night and discovers that the voluptuous and desirable accounts clerk is working late. She offers him a quick drink of vodka and, when the conversation gets a little hot and heavy, shows him how she masturbates with a finger vibrator.

I hope you enjoy the scene. If you do, send feedback saying why; if you don't, send feedback saying why you didn't enjoy it. Make it constructive though – "you're a sick pommy faggot and your story is crap", doesn't really do much at all.

There are probably errors in the text. If there are, forgive me.

GA – Playa del Carmen, Mexico – 7th July 2012.

The office was meant to be empty, but I noticed the light in the Portakabin as soon as I drove the truck into the yard. My first thought was that perhaps one of the other lads had left it on, maybe in a rush to get to the pub and, in his haste to be out of there forgot to flick the switch.

I parked the rig and signed off the tachograph. Then, with all the receipts and my tacho disc and keys, I headed across the floodlit yard, feet crunching on the gravel as I approached the office.

Finding the door unlocked I pushed it open and was pleasantly surprised to see Mrs Jenner, the gorgeous, forty-something accounts clerk at her desk.

"Hello, Sam," Mrs Jenner said when she looked up from some paperwork. "End of year accounts," she added and rolled her eyes. "I'm just finishing off and I'll be heading home." Mrs Jenner removed her spectacles, the ones that, in my mind, lent her an air of a sexy school teacher. With the end of one spectacle arm at the corner of her mouth she studied me. "Been on the Nottingham run?" she asked just as I was beginning to grow uncomfortable under the intensity of her gaze.

Feeling myself flush I pretended to look through the bundle of documentation I was holding.

"Uh ... Yeah," I said, avoiding Mrs Jenner's eyes.

It was always like this whenever, in a rare moment, I was in the company of Mrs Jenner, alone with nobody to deflect her attention. I'm not one of the loud, gobby blokes, not like some of the lads that work for the company – Armpit Jackson for example. He's always trying to flirt with Mrs Jenner, whenever Phil, the operations manager isn't about anyway. Armpit makes it plain that he'd fuck the tight, MILF arse off the accounts clerk; she knows it; we all know it, it's just poor Armpit doesn't realise that he's landed that unfortunate appellation because he always stinks of sweaty armpits.

Me? I'm more of the tongue-tied, stare-at-my-shoes-and-mumble type. It isn't that I wouldn't ride Mrs Jenner into a pool of our own bodily fluids, it's just that I find her too sexy. I'm intimidated by her cool confidence. I'm sure she's aware of the effect she has on men, I mean she always dresses in a slightly provocative way – hemline on her skirts just this side of decency, a blouse or sweater just a little too tight.

Mrs Jenner, divorced for over ten years so Armpit says, oozes sex appeal and fuels many a masturbatory fantasy for me.

And here she was, looking as fuckable as ever, alone with me in the office after hours.

"Well," Mrs Jenner said as she slid the glasses back onto her nose. "I'm finished here." She pulled a face and continued. "I hate end of year. So much work to catch up on. Still," she shrugged, "it's almost over." Mrs Jenner consulted a slim watch on her wrist. "I think I'll have a cheeky drink," she said and eyed me with a mischievous smirk on her face. "I keep a bottle of vodka in the security cabinet. Will you join me in a quick one, Sam?"

Torn between the urge to flee – to get away from this disconcerting woman and her innate ability to stiffen my penis – and the desire to stay in her company and listen to her voice, watch her move ... ogle her big tits as they strained the buttons on her blouse ...

Mrs Jenner took my gormless, slack-jawed silence as acquiescence and rose to her feet. She smoothed the tight skirt over her generous hips and walked, with a completely feminine sway of those hips to the aforementioned cabinet. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a vodka bottle and two plastic beakers.

"Cheers," Mrs Jenner said brightly after pouring a generous measure into each of the cups. She rolled her chair on its casters over to Phil's desk, to where I'd positioned myself after dropping my paperwork into the completed jobs tray for him to find in the morning. "Do you like working here, Sam?" Mrs Jenner asked and then sipped her drink.

"It's OK," I replied with a noncommittal shrug. "Phil's all right. He's putting me through my class one test so I can drive the articulated trucks. There'll be more money then, so ..." The ensuing silence made me uncomfortable, as did the woman's continuing, feline appraisal of me. "What about you, Mrs juh ... uh ... Jenner?" I stuttered. "Do you like working here?"

"I don't mind it all," she replied. Mrs Jenner shifted in her chair and crossed her legs. "I mean, the work's pretty mundane, numbers all day, and I'm sick of columns of figures ..." A quip came to my lips, one I'd never dare to articulate about Mrs Jenner's figure being one I could look at all day and never tire of. I held my silence of course and Mrs Jenner carried on. "But I like the atmosphere in here ..." she said. "Testosterone and bad language." She grinned at me and fingered a stray tendril of blonde hair that had come loose from its fastening and caressed one cheek. "I like looking at all you big, burly men. All rough and sexy and so ... so ..." Her hands fluttered as she struggled for the word. "Oh, I don't know," Mrs Jenner said after a quick gulp of vodka. "I just enjoy men being men. I don't mind the swearing and the banter. In fact ..." Mrs Jenner put down the plastic cup and leaned forward in her seat. Her voice took on a conspiratorial tone as I swallowed heavily and took a good, long, bug-eyed look down her blouse. "... I get quite turned on some days."

All I could do was blink and mumble something inarticulate that made Mrs Jenner laugh and reach for her drink again.

"Oh, Sam," she said. "I'm sorry. Have I embarrassed you?" My penis, completely unfazed by Mrs Jenner's revelations, and with a mind of its own, uncurled quickly and stiffened inside my work trousers when she leaned forward again and patted my leg. "You must think I'm an awful old woman. I hope you don't feel too badly towards me."

"Oh, nuh ... no, Mrs Jenner," I stammered. "Not at all ..."

I want to rip that blouse off you and suck your big tits. I want you to take that skirt off so I can see your cunt, and then have you suck my cock and wank it until my spunk splashes all over your face and boobs. And then, when I'm still hard, I want to bend you over that desk and fuck you until you fart ...

But of course I said nothing of the sort, I just continued feebly with: "I don't think you're an awful old woman at all."

And then, in a seminal moment Mrs Jenner asked, "What do you think of me, Sam?" She laughed again and added, "Well, I know what Armpit Jackson thinks." She eyed me in an odd way and drained her beaker. "And if he'd just bathe every now and again he might get somewhere." Mrs Jenner sloshed more vodka into her cup. She proffered the bottle at me and, when I nodded, topped me up.

"I don't have to work tomorrow," I said before I drank. "So I can have a couple of drinks."

"You haven't answered the question, Sam," Mrs Jenner said. "Come on. Don't be shy. Tell me. Be honest. I don't mind if you think I'm a dried up old bag ..."

I gulped the spirit down in one go and, as the fire lit in my belly, threw caution to the wind. OK, I thought, if you want to know ...

"I think you're hot and sexy and I fancy you like crazy," I blurted. Uh-oh, I thought when Mrs Jenner blinked at my candid outburst. Maybe she didn't want to hear it put so bluntly? Perhaps this time I'd embarrassed her?

"Do you, now?" Mrs Jenner said with a low and dangerous edge to her voice. I could see a gleam in her eye and thought she was going to lean over and slap my face. "That's so nice to hear," she purred instead. "Because I happen to think you're the sexiest of all the men in the yard, Sam. I was so pleased when it was you that came in tonight. I thought that one of the other boys was on the Nottingham job, but when you walked in ..." Mrs Jenner rolled her eyes and grinned.

"I got put on it this afternoon," I explained. "That's why I've got tomorrow off ..."

Mrs Jenner waved a hand and cut me off.

"I don't care about why you're here, Sam, I'm just glad you are." Then, in an aside she muttered, "I should've eaten something earlier ... this vodka's made me fizzy ..." To me she then said, "So you think I'm hot and sexy? Would you like to fuck me, Sam?"

I knew my jaw was hanging open as I stared at Mrs Jenner, but I couldn't do anything about it, I was just stunned, struck dumb by her forthright question.

"Do you ever ..." Mrs Jenner grinned and mimed a jerking action with her fist. "Do you think about me and wank off, Sam?"

Of course I did, but I couldn't tell her that; no matter how crude and indiscreet she was being.

Mrs Jenner fixed me with another feline look.

"I do," she admitted. "I mean, working with all you sexy men all around me, of course I get turned on, of course I go over to the ablution block and lock myself in the ladies and use my finger-vibe on myself." She smirked and added, "That's the beauty of being the only female here; I get a whole toilet block to myself." Mrs Jenner winked at me, a slow, lascivious drop of an eyelid. "You should see me in there, Sam." She fanned herself with her fingers. "Skirt up around my waist, knickers hanging off one heel as I put my feet up against the door and just diddle that vibrator over my clit and finger fuck myself." She chuckled, a dark, rich, sexy sound. "I must look such a lady with my fingers sloshing around in my cunt up to the knuckles."

"Fuck," I gasped. That word coming from her just sounded so wrong. "Mrs Jenner ... I ... Shit ...No ... But ..." I had no idea what I was saying; nothing could have prepared me for that lewd and concise admission. My iron-hard cock throbbed, clamouring for attention at the image in my head. "Oh, fuck, Mrs Jenner," I moaned. "That's so ... Just so ..."

"Isn't it?' she whispered, her eyes gleaming. "Isn't it just the dirtiest thing? Would you ..." Mrs Jenner paused and looked across to the office door. "If I locked the door would you like to watch me? We could go into the break room and I could lie on the sofa in there and show you just what I do?"

"I can't believe this is happening," I muttered as, shaking my head, I followed Mrs Jenner into the company crew room. She led the way, hips swaying, with her handbag in one hand and holding the plastic beaker aloft in the other.

"You too," the woman hissed at me as she hiked up her skirt and yanked her underwear down. "Show me your cock. I've heard you're a big boy. Show me."

"Mrs Jenner," I gasped. "You're ... Oh shit ... You're beautiful."

Mrs Jenner smiled at me as she settles onto the threadbare sofa. It made for an incongruous scene, the hot lady with her bare pussy pouting and scarlet, leaking its ooze as she stared up at me, legs boneless, spread wide while she draped her voluptuous body over the furniture amid the detritus – the coffee cups and newspapers and sandwich wrappers – of our grubby canteen.

"Thank you," Mrs Jenner said as she unbuttoned her blouse. "What about these?" she asked. "What about my tits? They seem to be the topic of some discussion around here."

"Oh, shit, Mrs Jenner ..." Speechless, all I could do was stare at the woman's exposed breasts as she hauled those big jugs out of her bra. Eventually I managed to croak: "You've got great tits." My vocabulary was by now limited to the most basic. I had no words to describe those big things cantilevered over the pale green bra Mrs Jenner wore in support of their weight.

"There," she sighed, and reached into her bag. "You can see all of me. Here I am, shaved pussy and bare tits ... Now ..." Mrs Jenner twisted the end of a finger-sized vibrator and I heard a faint buzz as the woman splayed her labia and slid the prepuce hood of her clitoris back to expose that taut, pink nub. "... Show me your cock," she finished. "I want to know if it's true."

"Mrs Jenner ... I ... Please ... Can I fuck you?"

"Show me your fucking cock," the blonde spat. Her eyes flashed fire as she snarled at me. "Stop fucking about and just get your fucking cock out so I can fucking see if it's as fucking big as they fucking say ..." Following that profanity littered sentence she lay back and buzzed at her clitoris, sighing and moaning, eyes on my fingers while they fumbled with buttons and zip. "Oh my," Mrs Jenner sighed. "Oh my, oh my. That's a lovely looking penis." She held herself open with fingers in an inverted V. I could see all of her, bubbling and scarlet before, with the vibrator buzzing angrily over her clitoris, Mrs Jenner slid a finger into her opening.

"Mrs Jenner," I moaned. "Can I? Can I fuck you?"

I stroked my fist along my length and moved to her.

With me standing close to her Mrs Jenner looked up at me through eyes heavy-laden with lust. Her mouth hung open as she stared at me before she mumbled, "Condoms ... do you have a condom?"

'Ah ...Fuck, no," I said. "I don't."

"Then I'm sorry, Sam ..." Mrs Jenner gasped and winced, cursing as her back arched and she slid another digit in alongside the first. "Without protection ..." She gasped and grunted again. "Then I'm afraid we can't fuck ... Not now ... But if you come home with me ..." Mrs Jenner left the accord unsaid, but I understood; no matter how horny we were, no matter how desperate I was to stab into her body with my long cock, there would be no fucking there. We could pick up the essentials on the way home, but for now ...

"Wank for me, Sam," Mrs Jenner groaned. "You watch me and I'll watch you ... I love doing that anyway, watching a man masturbate. Do it for me. Pull your big cock and watch me plunder my own cunt ..."

"Mrs Jenner," I sighed. "I ... When I hear you use that word ... It sounds so ... so ..."

The woman laughed, her fingers sliding and squelching in and out of her body as she said, "But it's just a word, Sam." Mrs Jenner nodded and grinned at me, her eyes on mine as she said, But it's all hot and itchy ... My cunt, Sam. My hot little pussy. Watch me finger it. See all of that goo sliding out of me?" Mrs Jenner sucked at her smeared fingers. "That's because I'm playing with my ... cunt ... and thinking what it'll be like later on; when you stick that cock into me and fuck me."

I shuffled forward, edged closer to her so I was standing over her, looming over her body as she so lewdly exhibited herself to my hungry stare.

"Mrs Jenner," I sighed, my fist moving quickly along my length now. "I never imagined ..."

The vibrator buzzed and slid through Mrs Jenner's sticky folds while she gasped and screwed her face up into an agonised mask. She looked to be in so much pain, but I recognised that look; I knew, on an instinctive level that Mrs Jenner was close to her orgasm. Her nipples had tightened to long, thick teats inside the puckered coins of their areola, a blush suffused her cheeks, spreading its rosy glow over her chest and infusing the upper slopes of her breasts with tell-tale pinkness. Her agonised facial expression was just another sign.

"Never?" Mrs Jenner asked through gritted teeth. She looked at me, her mouth set in a rictus of intense pleasure as her eyes narrowed to slits. Knife-edge cords in her neck told me just how strained Mrs Jenner was as she grunted the question at me. "You never imagined? Never thought of me finger-fucking myself while you wank your cock?" Mrs Jenner gasped and her thighs locked together around her wrist. The buzzing of the vibrator was muted by Mrs Jenner's closed legs, but still she spoke to me, her voice strangled as her climax came at her like a train. "You mean ... to say," she gasped, "that you've never imagined coming on my tits ..."

And then she just gave herself up to it. She writhed and grunted and snarled obscenities while she came and came.

"Mrs Jenner," I warned. "I'm ..."

Before I knew what was happening, a great gout of goo squirted from the eye of my cock and, as I cried out at the bliss of that release, splashed over Mrs Jenner's lust-contorted face. The woman yelped as that viscous blob spattered onto the lenses of her spectacles, and then, once she realised I was coming, she heaved herself upright and exhorted me with breasts upheld in her palms to cover her with my spunk.

"All over my tits," she squealed. "Let it rain down on my tits ..."

"Fuck ... Mrs Jenner," I gasped as I fulfilled a dream of mine, for I was indeed spraying Mrs Jenner's big jugs with my semen. The stuff just kept pumping out of me, spattering those shivering orbs with my ejaculate while Mrs Jenner held them in her palms and offered them up to me.

When my climax tapered, and I could think again, I looked down and saw Mrs Jenner, semen sliding over the curved flanks of her breasts, lie back and smear dollops of my outpouring through the folds of her labia and over her taut, pink clitoris.

"Watch me wank with your come," she sighed. "Just stand there with your big cock leaking its gloop while I bring myself off."

And I did, I stood and watched Mrs Jenner finger herself to another noisy climax. When she came she looked at me, stared right into my eyes as, with jaws clenched, she grunted and moaned and sighed.

At her grunted behest I kissed her as she came, our tongues sliding and twirling as she grunted her delight into my open mouth.

We made sure we turned out the lights and locked the door when, with Mrs Jenner's blouse opaque from my semen smeared across her boobs, we left the office and went back to her house.

Of course, on the way I stopped at a convenience store and picked up a dozen condoms. It promised to be a long night.