Diana's Self-Liberation Ch. 05

If you haven't read any others in this series, chapter 2 at least would set this chapter in context.

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Diana dismissed the very notion to begin with. It seemed too risky a way to have sex with Thomas, her twenty-year old virgin neighbour whom she had seduced. If it were discovered she would lose her reputation, and even if she kept her job she would find her position untenable.

But the notion was not so easily dismissed. It kept recurring. And each time it did, it sent another root down into her mind where it began to grow.

There was an element of risk to it; but then there was also a risk in having quickie sex in her house after her husband Keith had left for work. There was a degree of risk, too in booking into a motel for more leisurely sex -- it carried the risk of being recognised there or on her way there or back. And there was also something very naughty -- deliciously so -- about the notion. The danger was slight, but real nevertheless. It sent a thrill of excitement through her.

And the risk was small. After all, she mused, she was due to work overtime the following Tuesday night. It was a regular task of hers every three months to collate the previous quarter's figures and put them into a report for the partners of the firm.

Nobody else worked overtime with her. It was her individual task. She would be in the office alone. Alone in the whole building. Or not -- if she chose to have Thomas join her. The risk of being discovered was minimal.

She still resisted the idea, though. She looked for rational objections, but the truth of the matter was simply that she found it shocking and pushing the boundary a little too far.

She knew it deep down. That was why her mind kept throwing back a counter-argument against each objection that she raised. So in the end she had her instinctive reservations against it and nothing else.

Moreover, she had to admit that the idea had a lot to commend it. She liked the idea of role-play and a motel room offered limited scope for variety. To invite Thomas to join her after hours in the office where she worked would offer considerable scope for office sex. Besides -- she admitted to herself begrudgingly -- even though Thomas was kind enough to go halves on the motel room hire, the cost still added up. So, with a few palpitations in her stomach, she had to admit defeat -- or, she thought with a smile, was it victory?

She broached it with her near-virgin lover one morning in the car as she drove. He blushed bright red and could barely contain his excitement.

As always, Diana was very cautious and very anxious that nothing should arouse suspicion. For example, as with their motel visits, they needed to arrive home separately and with a good time interval between. Moreover he would need to think up a plausible excuse to his parents for being home late.

Given his shyness and slight nerdiness this was easier said than done, but after some debate over the next few days they decided on his supposed attendance at a leaving do for someone in the office where he worked. He tended to speak little about colleagues at home, and as his parents knew none of them, it seemed a reasonable story.

Diana was increasingly nervous and excited as the day drew near. As well as offering her the opportunity for sex that she was planning, being one of just three keyholders enabled her to arrive at work early one or two mornings to do some preparation on the report. So on the evening in question there would be little work and much play.

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When the great day arrived she had difficulty keeping focussed and casual. The problem got worse as the day progressed. But as well as the growing excitement with each passing hour there were other aspects of her elation.

First and foremost was the nagging fear of being discovered and of the serious trouble, scandal -- and unbearable snide gossip and giggles -- that would ensue. Secondly there was the delicious feeling of having a secret that nobody in a hundred years would ever suspect of her. Diana the staid, Diana the dutiful wife, Diana the reliable, Diana the rather boring... she knew how some of her colleagues considered her, especially some of the younger ones, and her younger female co-workers in particular. She found herself having to stifle grins as she thought to herself, "Ha! If only you knew the half of it!"

Since her determination to liberate herself from her loss of self esteem she had begun to wear clothes for work that, while still conservative, were a little smarter, a little more eye-catching than before. She got a buzz to be turning one or two male heads; it had not happened for many years.

And, despite the nagging doubts and fears, she found herself glancing round the office at her colleagues from time to time. Then she cast her eyes down to her handbag. Inside, hidden in her purse were three condoms. And inside her shopping bag, carefully wrapped inside a thick white plastic bag was a change of panties, and another skirt and blouse. And a change of shoes.

She glanced around again at her colleagues. How dumbfounded they would be if they knew what she had hidden -- and where and when they were due to be used! And as Diana looked casually around, it was even juicier than she anticipated to picture her and Thomas, her near-virgin, half-her-age lover, doing it on this desk or that chair. She urged herself to re-focus on her work.

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Thomas' own excitement prevented him from considering Diana's, but in fact his feelings and thoughts mirrored hers. He knew that he was perceived in his workplace as something of a nerd, though he evoked pity rather than mockery. He had once let it slip that he had never had a girlfriend and immediately wished he hadn't.

But now his confidence was increasing. He had someone special after all. Not a girlfriend but -- to him, better still -- a ladyfriend. A mature ladyfriend. A mature, MARRIED ladyfriend. And a mature, married ladyfriend with whom he was having sex. Secretive but regular sex, in fact.

So the pity and slight fun that people made of him were now unwarranted. In a matter of weeks he had been catapulted out of his virginity. And he found himself smirking to himself -- especially on those days when he was due to have sex with Diana in a motel after work, and even more so on mornings when he arrived at work just half an hour or so after sex with her. Like Diana he savoured the secrecy of his affair and the fact that nobody would ever imagine it of him. It gave him a powerful thrill.

When one or two of his workmates bragged about the football match they had attended the previous evening his stomach fluttered with excitement. "I can beat that!" he felt like retorting. "Just half an hour ago I was coming in the mouth of my sexy, married neighbour!"

But of course he didn't. He never would do so. But it remained true, and its power to shock to the core everyone he worked with remained a real thrill. And tonight... tonight was going to be something else.

Thomas loved the quickie sex with Diana. He loved its sordid nature, loved the cloak-and-dagger, behind-the-respectable-curtains nature of it. He liked the lack of foreplay, straight-down-to-it and still half-clothed aspect of it, and in particular he liked the way that Diana got straight into it. He respected her and genuinely liked her greatly, but the hurried nature of these occasions seemed to lend a sluttiness to her behaviour, at least in his mind.

But there was no denying that the more leisurely times they spent together were more special. He relished the intimacy, the slow build-up, the kissing and cuddling, and the sensual feel of her skin against his. But he had fantasised about her in various settings and scenarios, and a motel room was not entirely conducive to some of his fantasies.

In particular he had often imagined himself as one of her colleagues, secretly admiring and checking her out across the office and, maybe -- though until recently it had seemed a vain imaginary thing that could never come to fruition -- maybe being invited by her to stay behind and assist her. Then -- so his thoughts had often raced -- maybe, maybe he would pluck up the courage to run his fingers inside her skirt hem or down her blouse neckline. Or maybe -- and he had often masturbated to this thought -- maybe this sexy lady with her beaming face and soft voice would take his hand in hers and lead it herself to one intimate part or other of her mature but sexy body.

And now -- with the clock ticking -- such very workplace fantasies were just hours away!

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Diana tried not to keep looking at her watch. It just made the time drag more slowly. It was difficult not to, though. And each time she did, a flutter went through her. As five o'clock approached she made herself eat the sandwich she had bought earlier. Her mind was in overdrive as the pace in the office around her started to slow down a little.

She nodded appreciatively at the one or two sympathetic grimaces and guilty comments from some of her colleagues as they sympathised with her need to remain behind. She fought back a smile and tried to maintain a resigned expression.

She ran off a print from the computer system. It would not contain quite all the data she would need, but it would contain much of it. She checked through it and updated her spreadsheet as far as she could. Her heart fluttered again. She reckoned now that to compile the final report after the computer system shut down for the end of the working day and month would not take more than about three quarters of an hour. Which left plenty of time to play.

It was now five-twenty.

At last -- at long, long last -- the last of her colleagues left for the day. Diana locked the door after them and went to the toilet. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, washed her face, and changed into some fresh panties. She lightly sprayed some deodorant under her arms and applied some perfume behind her ears.

Then she headed back to her desk. It was no good trying to look at the report she needed to prepare now. To concentrate was impossible.

Her workplace did not permit mobile phones to be switched on in office hours but she had switched hers on as soon as she had locked the door behind her colleagues, and now -- for the third time -- she made sure she had indeed done so. It was an old pay-as-you-go handset that she used purely for speaking to Thomas, and she had told her husband Keith it was for work purposes.

Thomas usually finished work at five, but they had arranged for him to arrive just before six, when there would be fewer people around and when the neighbouring business premises would all likewise have finished work for the day. She headed along the corridor to check out the two other rooms she planned to use. It was a useful way to fill the time. She also went downstairs to check that she had definitely locked the front door to the office, and returned to her own office again to await the desperately awaited call from Thomas.

Five-fifty-two. With her mobile clutched in her hand, she waited in the narrow corridor near the back door to the office. It remained locked during the day but most people used it on arrival at work for the day. It avoided having the front door open and having clients call in before the office was ready for business. The top quarter or so was of opaque and wired glass. It did not afford a view outside but she could picture the scene: a half-open courtyard with a few ornamental trees and shrubs. It was private and not overlooked, especially at this time of the day. It was the perfect entrance for an illicit visitor.

Although she was expecting it, the ringing of her mobile startled her. She knew her voice must sound flustered, but it did not matter.

"Hello?"

"Er... hi, Mrs B. It's me. I'm just approaching the corner of the square now..." Thomas said.

"Right, love. See you in a minute." She smiled. He avoided calling her by her first name and her surname seemed too formal. He had also confessed that he liked the naughty reminder of her marital status.

She eagerly awaited the obscure, moving outline through the opaque glass that would announce her young lover's arrival. She unlocked the door and swung it open for Thomas to enter, then pulled it firmly closed behind him. To her delight he had his laptop with him for added effect. They kissed. As they embraced she felt his chest press against her breasts and his hardness against her crotch. She knew that, like him, she was quivering slightly with anticipation. A tingle of delight ran through her.

She broke away gently and held her hand up, with the palm facing him.

"Let's start, love. No touching for now. Let's play naughty colleagues, love," she murmured.

Thomas nodded. He was as eager as she was to pretend to be her co-worker. And although he was keen to touch her and to take her, he knew that there was no rush and that, indeed, the delay would heighten the excitement.

They headed upstairs to the office where she worked. Diana felt very squishy as she knew that, a couple of steps behind her, her lover was staring at her legs, seeking a hint of the line of her panties through her skirt, and that he was struggling to refrain from slipping his hand up its hem to touch her up. It was still a novel and erotic experience for her to be considered so sexy and desirable.

Diana indicated to a desk for Thomas to sit at, and smiled with satisfaction as he booted up his laptop, opened a blank spreadsheet and pretended to gaze at the screen. He glanced up as Diana sat at her desk. He was glad she had chosen the seating arrangement. Each desk had a long horizontal reinforcing panel across the front, and if their desks had been facing, it would have screened her legs from his view. As it was, his desk was at ninety degrees to hers and he could see her face and her breasts in profile.

In his own workplace he avoided ogling the girls or women (apart from the occasional glance), and avoided fantasising about them for fear of feeding a desire that would get out of hand and betray him. Right now he could ogle "Mrs B" freely, but it was still fun to pretend to do so furtively for realism. Moreover, the woman whom he was leering at was in fact revelling in his interest and within the next half-hour or so would allow him to have sex with her. There was no fear of being busted, and no possibility of rejection or outrage.

So, between pretending to study his laptop screen, he shot glances at her. She was wearing a blue blouse with narrow vertical stripes of several colours. He watched longingly the regular rise and fall of her breasts, the way they swelled against the cotton and subsided again. Above her open neckline her skin was pale and looked smooth and enticing.

Her black skirt reached her knees, but its hem had ridden up her thigh a little. Her legs were clad in honey coloured nylon. He rightly guessed that she was wearing stockings rather than tights, though only her lower thigh was exposed. Her legs were slender and shapely.

This carried on for ten minutes or so. Diana felt his eyes running over her. His eagerness for her aroused her greatly. From time to time she glanced across and, as if the scenario was real, he averted his eyes back to his computer screen.

Diana swung her chair round. Although her skirt continued to cover most of her thigh, her legs were parted a little, and he caught a slight glimpse of her inner thigh just inside her skirt hem. She stood up and walked across to his desk. His pulse quickened and he felt his manhood harden a little more.

Of course, he could have stood up and clasped her to him, or reached out to fondle her bum or her breasts. But for now he continued the role-play and refrained. Yet the headiness of her perfume, the intensity of her closeness and the tension of supposedly not being allowed to touch her almost set his senses reeling.

She leaned forward. Her right breast was just inches from his face. He looked at it, its shape half-evident and half hidden by her blouse.

"Thomas -- please can you check the totals for last month. You offered to stay late and help me -- we do need to get on. And Thomas...?"

"Yes, Mrs B?"

"You seem a little distracted. You need to concentrate on your work." She raised her eyebrows in mock reproof.

She caught him glancing at her skirt hem. Thomas was aware that she had noticed, averted his eyes and focussed again on the computer screen.

"Yes, of course, Mrs B. Sorry, Mrs B." He knew the repetition of her surname was over the top, but he liked the reminder that she was married.

"And Thomas? Please could you do me a favour and make me a coffee?"

"Yes, of course."

She pointed the kitchen area to him. She had boiled the kettle just before he arrived and to save time had even put the coffee and milk in a cup. As he stood in the open doorway she saw him furtively glancing at her again. She felt a flush of pleasure.

He brought the coffee over to her and stood by her desk as he placed it to one side of her. Inside her blouse he could see part of her pale orb, and a glimpse of her bra. It was plain white, and there was a narrow gap between the top of it and her pale skin. It seemed an invitation to peep closer and seek a glimpse of her nipple. His gaze shifted to her black skirt hem, her knees and lower thighs in the honey-coloured sheer nylon.

"Enjoying the view, Thomas?"

He blushed with embarrassment, even though the scenario was only make-believe. He looked into her face and at her well groomed, bouffant hair.

"Sorry, Mrs B?"

"I asked if you are enjoying the view, Thomas."

"Th...the view, Mrs B?"

"Yes. The view down my blouse. The view of my bra. The view of part of my tit. Do you like it? Are you trying to see my nipple?"

Thomas felt his blush deepen at her frank quizzing, even though it was contrived. She swung round on her chair to face him. She shifted position a little and her skirt rode an inch or two higher.

"I don't know why you don't just stick your bloody hand down my blouse and have done with it!"

Thomas gawped, not sure what to say. Her tone was sterner than usual, and her face more aloof.

"I... I'm really sorry, Mrs B. I didn't want to embarrass you..." he faltered.

"Well as I say I don't know why you don't just bloody stick your hand down my blouse and have bloody done with it!"

She glanced around the office, the familiar equipment and furniture, but all deserted save her and her young lover. She was highly aroused.

"Like this..."

He saw her hand rise to meet his and lead it to rest on the V of the neckline of her striped blouse. His hand was trembling. Then, without any finesse or subtlety she slid his hand inside, cupped it over her breast through her warm bra and squeezed it.

"Oh Thomas! Yes, like that, Thomas! Don't just look. Feel them and enjoy them. Get them out and suck them, love!"

In silence they both watched the movement of his hand inside her cotton blouse. Diana gasped as his hand inched to the top of her bra and slid inside. His finger brushed her tender nipple.

"If it helps get it out of your system, unfasten that blouse and kiss those mature married tits, Thomas!"

His hand was still trembling with suppressed excitement as he fumbled with her buttons. He slid it slowly open and gazed, spellbound as her bra came into view. He ran his fingers over the floral embellishment and her firm flesh underneath.

She reached behind and fumbled with her chair. It reclined quite far back so that she was almost in a lying position. Her expression was sublime as she raised her leg and rubbed it up between his, back and forth, teasing his erection and his balls. He watched the sensual, enthralling sight.