Office Tag

The office lobby was dark and that suited me. Outside the rain hammered against the glass doors, beyond that, nothing. Nothing until the blackness was filled Susan's silhouette. Her sodden clothes and hair flat against her skin, accentuating the hard lines of her face and body. I opened the door and as she entered, the wind drew back down the street, rather than follow her in.

She thumped a black dufflebag down on to the worn carpet and finished her cigarette, toeing it out on the carpet. 'You got the photos?'

I nodded, 'The bitch is all alone up there on the Partner's Floor.'

She grunted, pushing past me to the lifts, shouting back for me to bring her bag.

Up on the Partner's floor, the thick carpet and teak muffled all noise to an appropriate level of respect. Normally bustling with minions eager to help the occupants of these select offices, it was deserted now. My stomach knotted as we reached Ms Smithson's door. Susan just smiled and strolled into the office as if she were entering a bar.

'Well well.' Susan said, taking a good look. 'So this is the marvellous office you're so proud of.' The large room didn't suffer from the drab grey-brown paint of the open plan offices below. Expensive ambient lighting instead of flickering neon and curtains that didn't move every time there was a breeze outside.

'What the devil are you doing here?'

'Well that's no way to greet your favourite sister-in-law is it.' Susan replied, resting her hands on the other side of a desk big enough to lie spread-eagled on.

I closed the thick oak door behind me. It thudded into the frame like a carved block of granite. The lock was equally as sturdy. No one was going to disturb us.

Ms Smithson looked at me as if I'd just rolled in something. 'What's he doing here?'

Without warning, Susan began to unbutton her blouse, taking Ms Smithson's attention back immediately.

'What on earth do you think you're doing?'

'I've decided to teach you a lesson Helen.' She stopped unbuttoning long enough to throw the photos onto the table. Now if you want these, take off your clothes.'

Ms Smithson looked at the photos. 'A Christmas peck on the cheek, that's all.' She sighed theatrically. 'How much money do you want?'

'Not everything is about your precious money Helen.' She let her blouse fall to the floor and began to unbutton her jeans.

'Really? Then you have changed your tune.' She stood and tried to look in control, but the usually smooth Ms Smithson, with her wry smile just wasn't there.

'This is about Jed.' Susan said as she pulled her muscled legs out of the jeans.

'Jed? I thought he'd seen sense and dumped you.'

'You told him that the last man I dated ended up in hospital with his dick in a cool box.' She stood there in just her bra and knickers, which were as sodden as the rest of her clothes, the white cotton transparent where it stretched across her skin. A tiger was tattooed across her shoulder blades ripping the heart out of a deer. She could only be in her twenties, but already it had faded.

'Why don't you ask the rest of your shitty little family where he got that from? Which by the way is the truth, isn't it?'

'Ken will divorce you and leave you with nothing Helen. You know that as well as I do. He'll make sure you never work again and I'll make sure that the windows of whatever hovel you end up in are never left unbroken. You'll never know who'll climb through them.'

Ms Smithson knew that these were no idle threats. Mr Smithson was as ruthless as they come, and you only had to look at Susan, stood there, hard as hell itself, to know that she was cast from the same mould. Susan retrieved her trousers and started to pull them on. 'Have it your way'.

'No wait.' Ms Smithson stole a look at me.' He leaves.'

'No.'

Susan knelt and retrieved an envelope from her bag, tossing it on the desk. 'Every copy is there. It's yours once you show me you're the same as the rest of us. Come on Helen, we're in your territory, your marriage is on the rocks. Are you really that precious?'

'You'll be history soon anyway Simon.' She took off her jacket and her crisp white blouse followed, revealing a black lace bra. She stepped out of her shoes and hesitated for a moment, looking again to Susan to measure the need for this. Susan starred back impassively, the faintest of smiles cutting her face. The black cotton skirt followed, leaving her only the scant protection of her bra and matching knickers. She stood there in her pool of outer garments, her body in stark contrast to Susan's. Soft rounded lines and unblemished creamy skin, unblemished that was except for a crescent shaped birthmark below her left breast.

I almost told her to undo that tight bun her hair was always trapped by, never a lock permitted to stray. But then Susan unstrapped her bra, not that her tiny breasts needed any support. She then unclipped the side fastenings to her knickers and let them fall to the floor, revealing a Brazilian wax that would make the hardiest of fashion models wince. 'If you want the photos then you'll follow suit.' She said.

Ms Smithson's face remained impassive as slowly she reached behind and undid her bra, placing it before her on the desk, ready to pick up again as quickly as possible. She paused and took another look at Susan. 'I don't think I'm better than you.'

'Then you won't mind stripping will you.'

She hooked her thumbs into her knickers and pulled them down, blushing horribly. Careful that neither of them saw me, I reached across the front of my trousers to readjust myself.

'That's good Helen.' Susan said. 'Now come over here and kneel with me.'

Ms Smithson didn't understand where this was all going, but I did. I felt for the phone in my pocket and got ready to act. The two women knelt before each other, Susan with her back to the vast desk. I took out the mobile phone and pointed the lens.

'Do you pray Helen?' Susan brought both hands together before her face and waited for Ms Smithson to do the same. As soon as her hands were in front of her face, I took the photo, sending it to the prearranged number before she was even aware of the click.

'What the hell.' She jumped to her feet.

'Stop.' Susan shouted. 'You may want to check your inbox before you do anything stupid.'

Ms Smithson looked at Susan. 'What have you done?' She grabbed the monitor and twisted it round. It was a few moments before the email popped up and as she bent over to open the attached photograph. I got a good long look at her fine round ass, the same ass that got me into all this trouble in the first place. Well, that and the wolf whistle it had generated. She hadn't been a Partner even five minutes before she had given us all a dressing down about shoddy work. She had been walking away from us, the words "work harder or be streamlined" still ringing in our ears. She never even saw who whistled, but she knew it was me, even as she gathered all of us together to find the culprit.

Whoever was on the other end of that phone had produced a photo that Ms Smithson was unable to take her eyes off. 'They're improving that photo as we speak.' Susan said. 'Come midnight and no one will be able to tell it's a fake.'

'I'll tell Ken exactly what you've done.' She said, and as she turned I saw a picture of her blowing the Finance Director, a particularly virulent enemy of her husband. 'You won't get away with this.'

'Your word against my brother's. You can take that chance if you want, but don't forget your pile of underwear on the floor beside you. How would I know what underwear you have? And how would I get the exact shape of your birthmark?'

'You bitch, you lousy bitch.'

'Now now. If you want the photos, all the photos, just do exactly what I tell you to, then by tomorrow this will all have gone away.

Susan sat up on the desk. 'Have you ever given another woman head Helen?'

'What?'

Susan parted her legs and then pulled her pussy lips apart. 'If you want your photos back then I'll need a little kiss. That's all.'

'Don't be ridiculous. It was only a seasonal peck on the cheek.'

'Then I'm sure my brother will understand and forgive you.'

'You know how things are between us at the moment. Something like this could finish us.'

'Come on now Helen, you're a grown woman.' She lifted one leg onto the polished mahogany, spreading her legs further to reveal the pink of her vagina. Ms Smithson didn't know where to look. 'A good solid heterosexual shouldn't have a problem with a little kiss to save her marriage.'

'How do I know you won't take another photo.'

'Trust?' She cocked her head at Ms Smithson and smiled. 'No? Okay I can understand that we may need to work on that. I'll give you the phone. How about that?'

Ms Smithson knelt before the outstretched legs. 'If this is what gets your sad little rocks off then fine, if it will save my marriage. But I want the phone.'

Susan handed it to her. I watched fascinated as Ms Smithson's head moved forwards and gave the slightest of touches to the pink flesh. She made to stand up again, but Susan placed her hands firmly on top of her head. 'Not so quickly lover. You give me a good licking while you're down there.' She pulled Ms Smithson's head into her crotch with both hands. There was no escape.

Susan looked over to me and scowled, indicating with her head the dufflebag. I jumped, so engrossed that I'd forgotten my next part in this. I grabbed the second phone from the bag and as I did so discovered a strap-on in there as well. I looked at Susan, but she was enjoying Ms Smithson's ministrations too much to care what I found in her bag.

I took the phone and photographed Ms Smithson, but with Susan's hands in the way, it could have been anyone between Susan's legs. I signalled this to her.

'Oh Helen,' Susan said gently, releasing her grip on the older woman's head, the blood rushing back into her fingers. 'Oh Helen, could you look over there for a moment.'

The glint in her eyes when she'd revealed the pictures on my hard-drive was no longer there. Tears and Susan's juices glistened on her lips, chin and nose. The salt of those juices would be with her for a very long time.

One snap, the picture was captured. One click and it was sent. Susan placed her hands firmly on Susan's shoulders, but the other woman remained passive. 'There's nothing you can do Helen, so don't ruin this now. You're almost there. Simon's just got to have his turn now.'

Ms Smithson looked confused. 'What are you talking about?'

'I understand that you've been less than fair to Simon since you got this job and he has been very helpful in your education. It's only right that he should be rewarded.'

'No. I've never let anyone but Ken. I saved myself for my husband.'

'Pride is the problem Helen. It's an important part of the cure.'

'This is rape.'

'Only if you didn't agree. Why don't you look at your inbox.' She reached over and clicked on her inbox as I undressed. I had a raging hard-on by now and the thought that I was so near to sticking it up that middle-class fanny was making me dizzy.

'You see Helen, you've no choice. Ken sees these photos and you loose everything, your high and mighty job, your high and mighty lifestyle, everything. She swept her hand across the desk, clearing it of everything except the computer at one end, and nodded for me to climb up on top of it.

'All you have to do now to save yourself is to climb on top of Simon and thank him for his help, then you'll have your life back.'

Ms Smithson looked from me to the computer screen, to the door and to Susan, then she looked back to the computer screen, which held her life on its electronic threads.

'Come on Helen, we haven't got all day.

She looked at me lying there on the desk waiting for her. Wisps of hair had come away from that tight bun.

With heavy limbs, she climbed up onto the desk, swinging her legs over my pelvis like she was climbing over a barbed wire fence. 'You know.' I said. 'When we're at that hearing next week, I'm going to be thinking of you like this.' She didn't register my words. She had saved herself for the one man she would spend her life with, kept herself pure and now she was going to have that taken away from her.

All those times I'd watched her legs through the slits in her long skirts, I'd never imagined they'd one day be straddling me, that superior cunt hovering above my cock. Now that the glint was gone from her eyes, I could almost see the ordinary woman in there. Her hand fumbled for my cock and placed the head to her tight little opening. The room muffled every sound so that all that could be heard was the patter of the rain through the triple glazing. A single tear fell on my chest. She closed her eyes and moaned with shame as she slowly lowered herself onto me, giving up her oh so precious purity inch by exquisite inch until her pubes nestled with mine.

I reached round and grabbed a good handful of her buttocks, feeling the muscles contract as she rose up again and began to fuck me. As her tits bounced, I looked up at this cold example of femininity and thought of the times she had been so superior. I was determined to enjoy this. Every time I managed to bed one of those shy dowdy women who would only fuck on their backs with the lights off, I'd remember every detail of this, fucking Ms Smithson again and again. Her movements were almost mechanical. Almost. But there was skill there as well. Somewhere deep down she knew that the quicker she brought me off the quicker this would be over.

She kept herself upright, touching the minimum of my skin. Oh how I wanted her to bend over me and let me feel her tits rub against my chest as she fucked. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Susan dive into the bag and I knew exactly what she was doing. I reached around and grabbed Ms Smithson's ass cheeks, giving the gorgeous flesh a squeeze as it descended again around my cock, and stopped the upward rise. Ms Smithson must have thought I was coming, because she collapsed on top of me, breasts crushing to my chest.

'Oh Helen.' Susan said softly. 'Helen, we're going to do the next bit now.' Helen turned her head, smearing lipstick across my chest. Susan stood there with the strap-on in place, rubbing Vaseline onto it. Both Ms Smithson's hands pressed hard against me, struggling to escape, but I held her fast, locking my hands around her waist. I thought that the image of her bouncing on top of me was going to be good enough, but the thought of her being ass fucked as well was too much.

'You really think that a little bit of licking is going to equal what you've done to me?' She moved round behind and Helen struggled to keep her in her sights.

'Well you're wrong, very wrong.' Susan climbed up onto the table, and I felt her positioning the thick dildo. As the cold plastic touched her skin Ms Smithson's vagina spasmed, squeezing itself dangerously around my cock. I had to close my eyes and think of cold showers. This was the opportunity of a lifetime and I was determined not to waste it. I wished suddenly that I'd unloaded myself in advance of today so I didn't have such a hair trigger. Christ, if that was how her muscles reacted to a touch, I couldn't wait for what they'd do when the bloody thing was shoved in.

'No, please. I'll do anything.'

'Susan stopped. 'Anything?'

'Anything, please. You'll tear me apart.' The blank eyes were gone now, replaced by white.

'What will you do Helen? Will you leave Ken?'

'I could never do that.'

'Well then shut the fuck up.' She stabbed the dildo hard and I felt the thick plastic head pop her sphincter.

Ignoring the howls, Susan began to stab the thing in, each stab stretching Ms Smithson further open. I felt the thick plastic shaft through the thin membrane between her fanny and her ass. Susan gave one hard thrust sinking the dildo to the hilt and a long moan escaped from Ms Smithson. She pulled out, then thrust back in, then out and in again, jarring Ms Smithson's breasts up and down my skin, her nipples hard against me. I joined in and we found our rhythm almost immediately, pistoning with alternate thrusts. Each time I thrust in, the strap-on slid out along the length of my cock. Ms Smithson stopped struggling and lay on top of me, sobbing and moaning with pain, her breath hot across my face.

Above me, Susan had closed her eyes, letting her head fall back with sheer pleasure as she ass-fucked her sister-in-law. As she banged the dildo into her, so the tresses gradually freed themselves, falling thick across my face, the smell of expensive perfume replaced by the salt of her sweat.

This bliss never could last though and before long I could feel myself beginning to cum. There was no question of stopping for a moment to prevent the inevitable. Susan wasn't going to stop for anything. I grabbed hold of Ms Smithson again and squeezed her tight body hard as I came inside her. Susan sensed what was happening and plunged deep inside, keeping the plastic there while my cock twitched. Ms Smithson felt so tight I found myself wondering what her virgin ass must have been like before that dildo stretched it open. Susan then did a strange thing, she reached round past my cock and placed two fingers firmly on Ms Smithson's clit. She rubbed it hard and shudder rocked through the prostrate body on top of me. Susan came out of her and rolled off the table and I took that as my cue to push Ms Smithson off, letting her fall hard to the floor. She just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, in her own private hell. I wondered if I'd see her tomorrow, whether she would have shimmied back into her superior exoskeleton. 'Hi, Ms Smithson, how's your ass. Able to sit down yet?'

We both got dressed and put our stuff back in the bag.

'You know' I said as we strolled down the corridor to the lift. 'I'm pretty sure that she came back there.'

Susan smiled. 'She usually does once the dildo's in'

I stopped and stared at her, but she just threw a glance up at the surveillance camera nestled in a discrete corner of the corridor. 'Careful big man, don't want to start looking suspicious now.'

'You set me up.'

I watched her ass roll smoothly to the lift, then shouted after her. 'They can't prove anything just because they have us coming in and out of the office.'

'Unless there are cameras in the rooms of course.' She said, not turning so that the camera could not see she was talking. 'Perhaps your cast-iron case doesn't look so smug anymore.'