The Agency

“So, the baby in those photos. Yours?”

“Huh? My baby? Do I look like I’ve had a baby? What are you talking about?”

“The pictures on your wall. That baby.”

“Ohhhh… that’s my nephew, Brandon. He’s my twin brother’s son, and I’m going to spoil him rotten!” Cecile let out a little giggle. The champagne was really getting to her.

“Of course, Cecil – that’s my brother’s name – is a fraternal twin. That’s why he doesn’t have my good looks, and that also explains the yucky blond hair. I get the dark hair from some distant Cherokee blood you know? But I’m also cursed with the fair skin and freckles from my dad’s Irish ancestors.” Cecile giggled again, she got awfully chatty when she was drunk.

Chatty she was, and as the night went on, she became more and more aware of how good Ben looked, and how delicious he smelled. He was lying across from her, in the same sideways position, causing his sweater to stretch over his chest. One leg was bent at the hip, making his crotch more prominent. She tried not to look at his crotch, but the bulge in his pants was very distracting. Cecile could feel a tingle in the pit of her stomach, and moisture started to seep from her pussy. She adjusted her hips slightly and felt the slick sensation of wet fabric slide against her clit.

A thankful reprieve came when Ben left for the men’s room. Cecile let her head fall onto the soft pillows, not knowing whether the dizzy sensation was from the alcohol or a rush of sexual arousal. When Ben returned, he took a seat on the edge of the bed, just next to Cecile’s head. Gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face with his fingers, he savored the feel of the soft skin of her high cheekbones.

“Hey there, are you feeling alright? I think you’ve had a little too much to drink.”

Cecile raised herself quickly and felt a dizziness overcome her as the blood drained from her head. Pushing the pillows aside, Ben put his arms around her waist and propped her up. As the wave of nausea abated, all she could feel were the iron-hard arms encircling her. Her face nuzzled into the soft cotton knit of his sweater and her hand rested on his hard thigh. What was a trickle of pussy juices had now turned into a torrent, and her nipples were hard and sensitive.

Ben was in no better shape himself. Holding her in his arms, his hand rested on the curve of her small waist and brushed against the bottom of her soft breasts. Hs throbbing cock twitched and got even harder as he stared at her small hand on his thigh.

“OK missy, you’ve had enough. I’m taking you home and putting you to bed.”

By the time Ben had settled the bill, Cecile was fast asleep on the mound of pillows. As he gently shook her, Cecile raised her head sleepily, long lashes fluttering open. She rose unsteadily to her feet, and with Ben’s arm firmly holding her up, they made their way to the street. The short walk was torturous for Ben. Her swaying gait meant that he had to maintain a very firm grip around her, causing her top to ride upward. As he adjusted his hold around her waist, his hand made contact with the smooth bare skin of her ribcage. Whenever she slipped downwards, his hand would cup the underside of her breast. It was driving him fucking crazy.

“CeCe… CeCe… where do you live?”

“Hmmmm??? Ummmmm…” She mumbled softly.

“OK, c’mon… I gotta get you home. What’s your address?”

More incoherent mumbling ensued, and Ben finally gave up. Hailing a cab, he decided to let her sleep it off at his place. By the time they arrived at his apartment, she was fast asleep, even snoring a little from time to time. Gathering her into his arms, he carried her into his apartment and laid her on his bed. Slipping off her shoes and smoothing the raven hair from her face, he covered her with the duvet and shut the door.

“Fuuuck… I need a cold shower…” The cold shower, unfortunately, did nothing to help his stiff dick. A few quick strokes and thankful relief later, he grabbed a couple of spare pillows and blanket and crashed on the couch.

* * * * *

SATURDAY

Harsh sunlight streamed into the bedroom, stirring Cecile from her slumber. Dazed and confused, she sat up with a jolt in an unfamiliar room. Panic filled her as she tried to remember the events of last night. Looking down at herself, she saw she was in her clothes from last night and alone. She crept out of bed and slowly eased the bedroom door open. Peering around the corner into the living room, she saw a male foot sticking out from the couch.

Walking over, she saw Ben deep in sleep, ignominiously sprawled on the too-small couch with one foot hanging over the side. He had thrown off the blanket in his sleep, and he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. One arm was flung over his head, accentuating ridges of his biceps. It was obvious that he was afflicted by the morning erections suffered by all men, as a thick bulge formed a tent in his thin white cotton boxers.

A blush suffused Cecile’s cheeks. She was mortified at her behavior. How could she have allowed herself to get drunk, and in front of her boss at that? She wanted to die – if not from the embarrassment, then from the pounding headache. Creeping silently back into the bedroom, Cecile decided to take a shower. Better embarrassed and clean, than embarrassed and dirty was her mantra for the day.

Stepping out from the shower, she dried off with a folded towel from a rack. Wrapping it around her, she opened the bathroom door to retrieve her clothing. Squeaking out a surprised gasp, she came face to face with a bleary-eyed, sleepy Ben. Clutching the towel around her breasts, she just stood and stared at him, like a deer caught in the glare of headlights.

“Whoa! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t realize you were in the shower! OK, I’m not looking!” Ben turned his back and headed towards the door.

“There’s some clean shirts in that drawer” He gestured vaguely to a wardrobe. “Why don’t you change into something clean, and I’ll be outside” Ben left the room, closing the door silently behind him.

Putting some coffee on, Ben started on frying up eggs and bacon when Cecile appeared at the kitchen counter.

“I… um… I really don’t know what to say… uh… I usually don’t get that drunk… Did we…?”

“Hell no, I’m an asshole, but not THAT kind of asshole. Ya want some eggs?” Ben shot her a boyish grin.

Cecile’s cheeks turned a soft pink as she nodded and quietly poured herself a mug of coffee. Perched on a stool by the counter, she watched Ben cook breakfast. He was still topless, but had changed into a pair of shorts. She admired the way the muscles in his arms and back flexed as he reached overhead for plates. His chest was hairless, except a trail of light brown hair starting from his navel that disappeared into the waistband of his shorts. They rode low on his hips, and she could see the two small indents just above the pelvic bones – something she found a huge turn-on.

And most of all, she couldn’t help but stare at thick ridge clearly visible though the material of his shorts. He still had his morning hard-on, and the tip threatened to poke through the waistband. Cecile shifted in her seat, her naked pussy was throbbing and wet. She didn’t want to put on a dirty pair, but on hindsight, maybe she should have because she could feel her pussy juices running down the top of her thighs.

Taking the frying pan off the stove, Ben was miserable. The combination of a morning erection, coupled with a half-naked woman wearing only his shirt. It was almost unbearable. “Screw this” he thought, and gave into temptation. Reaching over, he tucked a few strands of ebony hair behind her ear. Caressing the outer rim of her earlobe with his fingers, he trailed his knuckles along her jaw.

Cecile’s heart was pounding and she felt the same dizziness of the night before. This time it was most definitely sexual arousal – the pure animal sort. But it was a savage arousal tempered by tenderness, a soft longing that gripped her in the pit of her belly. Closing her eyes, Cecile savored the light caresses of his warm, callused fingertips, his musky male scent permeating her nostrils. A rush of blood swept to her pussy, the labia engorged and pulsing.

He tilted her chin up with his fingers. Ben could hear her heavy erratic breathing, and as her eyes fluttered open to reveal deep blue eyes with the glazed look of a woman who needed to be fucked. Grabbing the back of her neck, he kissed her hard, tongue sliding past her teeth and into the warm wet mouth. Flicking his tongue against hers, he nibbled at her lower lip. Her tongue darted out to meet his, sucking insistently as she moaned into his mouth.

One hand crept to her breast, caressing and squeezing over the light cotton material of his business shirt. Her nipples were hard, poking against the fabric and into the palm of his hand. His other hand ran up the length of her supple thigh, massaging the firm muscles as it lay to rest on the soft juncture between inner thigh and pussy. Ben could feel her stickiness coat his fingertips, as he grabbed one supple thigh and pulled her off the stool into a standing position. Turning his attention to the ass he’d been dying to feel for the past 48 hours, his large hands slid past her waist to her pert bottom.

“Christ!” She wasn’t wearing any panties, as his large hands made electrifying contact with smooth bare skin. The erotic discovery made his rock-hard cock twitch in his now very, very, extremely uncomfortable shorts. Cupping one cheek, he could feel the elasticity of her taut ass as he roughly massaged and squeezed.

Cecile breathed a sigh into his lips as her breasts pressed up against his chest. Her hips ground involuntarily into the thigh that slipped between hers as small hands clawed into Ben’s shoulder blades, leaving small crescent shaped marks with her nails. Breaking their wet kiss, her tongue licked a blazing trail towards his ear as she flicked her sharp tongue into the sensitive crevice. A sharp nip on his earlobe sent shivers running down the length of Ben’s tense body. Sighing a breathy moan into his ear, she then bit down on the sensitive spot where neck and shoulder met – hard.

What little control Ben had left shattered. Pent up sexual tension, coupled with the desperate fumbling with the buttons of her shirt resulted in a violent tug that sent little buttons dancing across the cool marble floor. Parting the shirt, he let it slip from her narrow shoulders and fall to the ground.

Stepping back to admire Cecile’s nude body, he relished the sight of the heavy mounds of her breasts, topped with pale pink aureolas. A narrow waist held a pierced belly button, with a jeweled barbell in the shape of a butterfly. Yet another butterfly lay further down south. Perched on top her juicy hairless slit was a small tattoo of a pair of intricate butterfly wings. It crowned her delicious pussy, begging to be eaten. It was yet another surprise for Ben. Cecile was full of surprises, he’d never expected such a serious-looking woman to have such naughty hidden secrets.

Cecile’s arousal was evident. A pink blush covered her cheeks, neck and chest. The blood coursing to her pussy turned the pastel pink of the butterfly wings a dusky rose. Her pussy lips were swollen, and creamy moisture seeped down her thighs. Breathing hard and fast, she stared at him, enraptured by his intense stare. She felt a shudder course through her body, he looked like he was about to pounce on her at any moment.

Slipping a finger into the valley of her breasts, he traced a path down to her belly button, flicking the crystal butterfly. As his finger continued down towards the tattoo, the muscles of her stomach contracted in delicious anticipation. A long finger probed the dripping wet folds of her pussy lips, sliding wetly across her pulsing clit. Ben couldn’t believe how small she was. Circling her tender clit with a fingertip, he pinched lightly at the slippery inner labia. He noticed that her pussy was velvety smooth, without the telltale bumps of someone who shaved.

“Jeez… you’re begging to be eaten… such a juicy, silky smooth pussy…” he growled into her ear.

“Ummm… shaving was a pain… h-had it removed – for good…”

Running two fingers from her clit, past her juicy hole, to her puckered ass and back, Cecile let out a strangled moan as her legs buckled under her. Ben caught her at the waist and lifted her onto the countertop. Burying his face between her legs, he inhaled her musky sweetness, the scent of his lavender soap still lingering. Flicking a tongue to catch the pearly juices that seeped from Cecile’s tight hole, he ran up and down the juicy slit. Nibbling, sucking and licking like a starved man, her hips bucked against his face, a hand holding on to the back of his head to keep his hungry mouth firmly at her throbbing hole.

Cecile’s breaths became shallower as her hand clawed desperately at the countertop. Panting hard, she braced both hands on the counter, lifting her pelvis and spreading her pussy ever wider to him. Ben could feel her ass clenching, her moans getting louder. Coating two fingers with her pussy juices, he roughly slammed them into her tight hole. Cecile let out a high keening wail, her hips now bucking in a savage rhythm as his tongue flicked mercilessly against her clit while finger fucking her hard.

“Ohhh… my… god…. Ben, I’m coming… don’t you dare stop… don’t stop, don’t stop….”

“Mmmm… baby… you taste so fucking good” Ben muttered into her red throbbing slit.

Cecile’s body stiffened as an intense orgasm washed across her, grinding down on Ben’s pumping fingers as her pussy juices ran down his hand and coated his chin. Her head fell back as she struggled to catch her breath, breasts rising and falling with every ragged gasp.

“Meeester Haalford, what did I tell you about leaving your theengs on the floor?”

Ben heard the door slam, and the sound of Mrs Gonzales’ maternal voice. It was too late. Keys clattered to the ground as Mrs Gonzales caught sight of a naked woman with legs spread open on the classic teak kitchen counter – and Mr Ben Halford’s head buried between them. Clutching her chest in a mortified gasp, Mrs Gonzales fled into a room to escape the hedonistic sight before her.

Cecile leapt off the countertop in daze, scrambling to retrieve the button-less shirt. Overcome with humiliation, she clutched the shirt to her front, desperately trying to cover herself. She felt so stupid and rash for giving in to her impulses, god knows whether he was playing a sick game with her. But damn… he had a very, very talented tongue. She’d never came so hard before, the pulsing of her wet pussy reminding her of a hot orgasm.

Ruffling his hair and holding back a scathing curse, Ben hastily apologized and explained Mrs Gonzales’ presence. Wiping off Cecile’s pussy fluids from his chin, he was once again reminded of the hard unsatisfied ache in his groin. The awkward silence between them was palpable. Cecile fidgeted, shirt still clutched to her breasts.

“Umm… I’ll go get washed up, and let Mrs Gonzales get on with her cleaning.”

As Cecile turned and headed towards the bedroom, he saw yet another butterfly tattoo on the small of her back, nestled just above the crack of her shapely ass. This one was large, the graceful butterfly wings in shades of pastel pinks and violets stretched from her ass crack across the span of her hips. Damn!! This woman had a rebellious streak. The stiff business suits covered a very bad girl.

Freshly showered and in her clothes from the night before, Cecile couldn’t bring herself to face Ben. Not today, and certainly not at the board meeting on Monday morning. Shit, why couldn’t she just have controlled herself? Bidding him an awkward goodbye, Cecile left the apartment as quickly as she could.

Strolling down the street on a warm summer Saturday morning, memories of Ben’s face in peaceful slumber flooded into her mind. The thought of him left a wrenching ache in the pit of her stomach. He didn’t take advantage of her last night, and could really eat her. Picking up her pace, she hailed a cab and hopped in.

Back in the apartment, Ben could hear the drone of the vacuum cleaner as Mrs Gonzales shuffled back and forth on the living room. He was getting mighty sick of cold showers, and unsatisfied erections, giving the shower mixer a vicious pull. His chattering lips were almost blue as he stepped out of the shower. With a wry smile, he glanced down at his balls, glad to see that his hard-on had finally subsided.

* * * * *

MONDAY

It was yet another boring meeting. A roomful of men in dark suits congratulating each other for being masters of the universe. God, Ben was so distracting. She could hardly concentrate on delivering her numbers and recap for the quarter. It was as if his eyes were burning a hole through her clothes.

Cecile was wearing the sheer floral top Ben gave her under a black Gucci suit today. She didn’t know what possessed her this morning, but she felt an uncontrollable need to feel sexy today. Seldom worn, the Gucci suit fit like a second skin. Made of soft buttery leather, the skirt had a high slit in the back where leather laces continued in a criss-cross pattern up her ass, ending at the waistband. The jacket was conservatively cut in a single-breasted style that ended just under her collarbone. The back however, was a different story. Black leather laces crossed through metal eyelets the entire length of the jacket, much like a corset.

Under the suit, she pulled on sheer mesh black g-string, so tiny it barely covered her pussy. Her entire tattoo was visible above the microscopic pair of panties. A matching lace garter belt and thigh high stockings with a seam running up the leg completed the sexy ensemble. Looking at herself in the mirror, she’d decided to skip the bra, her breasts and nipples visible under the transparent sheer fabric. Well, she would have to keep her jacket on today then.

Shifting imperceptibly in her seat, the string of her panties rubbed mercilessly between her damp pussy lips. Nipples hard and erect, they rubbed against the soft fabric of the chiffon top. Cecile was getting hornier and wetter by the minute. As Ben made his concluding remarks, she gathered her folder and turned towards the door.

“Cecile, could I have a moment? I’d like you to run me through the strategy for Nike 2005. I’ll see you in your office in ten minutes?”

Damn him for looking so good today. She silently cursed for letting this man get under her skin. Nodding her head, she turned and left the room. Pacing like a caged tiger back in her office, she waited with nervous anticipation for the knock on her door. The clicking of her 4-inch stiletto mules matched the staccato rhythm of her erratic pulse, the friction between her thighs bringing her arousal to a fever pitch.

“CeCe, you ready for me?”

Ben caught a fleeting glimpse of stocking seams disappearing into a high slit as she twirled around. She looked so fucking hot today, and it took every ounce of self-control not to tear her clothes off and fuck her on her desk. Ben felt like a man possessed, all he could think of the entire weekend was Cecile’s naked body, her wet naked pussy and sexy tattoos. The smell of her juices kept returning to his memory, leaving him with an erection that wouldn’t go away. She looked disconcerted. He could see that she was wearing the blouse he gave her, and a faint blush was staining the pale skin of her chest.

“Yeah, have a seat. I’ll take you through the deck.”

Cecile rummaged through her desk, searching for the thick deck of papers that held the marketing strategy for the 2005 brand campaign for Nike. “Where the hell was it? Damn, damn, damn… get yourself together girl!” Spotting it on a low shelf, she bent over to retrieve the thick folder. It was wedged at the bottom of a pile of thick books, pulling and twisting hard, it took some effort to release it without the books on top falling down.