The Soothing of Penelope Pt. 01

"I think, perhaps that's enough, I... oh, oh, oh!"

Steve was massaging her lotion covered breasts, one in each hand, a slippery feeling as he squeezed and rubbed, an utterly pleasurable feeling. It was lovely, so pleasurable, so enjoyable.

"I think you can stop now, Steve, I..."

"Oh dear, you are very excited aren't you? Your nipples are like little hard, dried peas"

But she hardly heard him, her whole concentration was on the fingers stroking her breasts. Excited? It hardly described what she was feeling. Her breasts felt on fire - at first in an unbearable itchiness but now in a nice way, a very nice way, a so sexual way, but nonetheless on fire - every touch sweet torture.

Of course she came, of course she orgasmed. Penelope had never felt quite like that before. Had not even thought it was possible to orgasm just from breast stimulation or so quickly but, looking back, she had more than seen sparks and her panties felt absolutely sopping as if the lotion had been placed there too.

Penelope blinked, suddenly aware the itching had completely stopped, feeling equally suddenly shocked at the whole scene. There she was in just trousers, her black smart trousers, her breasts exposed and nipples extended with both breasts liberally coated in white lotion - and there was Steve standing in front of her, his hands upheld and equally covered in the lotion. Penelope could not believe that had just happened, that she had let Steve do that or she had orgasmed so strongly. How awful, and how Steve must have so liked getting hold of her breasts. He had looked down her cleavage often enough. And there was the evidence of his excitement. She could see rigidity in his trousers. His penis was so obviously fully engorged.

"I... I'll... um... thanks for the lotion. It's all better now. I'd better, I'd better shower like yesterday."

"That would be a good idea, Penny."

"I don't need help, I can do it myself."

"Well, yes," he looked puzzled, "of course."

Why had she said that? Of course she did not need help showering. Why had she asked him to apply the lotion? Had she actually done that? She knew she had felt an incredible urgency because of the itching - an itching that seemed now to have gone as fast as it had come. She hurried off. It was only in the shower she realised she had left her blouse and brassiere on the floor by her desk. Her mouth tightened. She would have to walk back like that. Well, actually, she could take a towel but Steve Knowles had already done more than simply see her breasts. She shivered at the thought of how he had massaged them and, awfully, how good it had felt. The evidence was there to see on the bench in the shower cubicle in the form of sopping panties lying atop her trousers.

When she returned, walking bare-chested up the office, she found Steve had picked her clothes up, neatly folded them and placed them on her desk.

"Did you see the doctor about your rash, your itching?"

It had completely escaped Penelope's mind the whole weekend and actually most of the Monday. She could not understand how that had happened. She had been busy and thinking of other things. Perhaps it had been that other report she had been working upon most of the two days, all Saturday morning and all of Sunday. It was now nearly finished and then she could go home and have a really relaxing evening with a long, soothing hot bath.

"I... err... no, Steve, forgot."

"That's frankly silly, Penny, you were in quite a lot of distress on Friday until I applied my lotion. What if I hadn't been here and it had been locked in my desk drawer? You are a bit of a silly girl."

Penelope was not at all sure she liked being talked to like that, he was not her mother after all! She was a grown woman and not one who liked being called 'silly.' But it was true, she should have made an appointment. It had, indeed, been 'silly.'

"I'll put it there on the side of my desk in case you have a flare up again. I'm off now. 'Night."

Penelope watched Steve walking up the office and then she was left alone. She worked on quietly finishing the report and then began a final proof reading. Absently she scratched herself. Her right breast and then her left. She looked up and frowned. It was happening again. She turned left and right and looked around the office. There was no one there. Hurriedly she pulled off her shirt and brassiere and reached for the lotion. The relief at squirting the cool, white lotion onto her breasts was considerable. She massaged, actually sighing with the relief.

It was no doubt an unusual sight a few minutes later. A young businesswoman sitting at her desk, working away but bare breasted. A sight that would, no doubt, have gladdened the men on the floor had they been there. A few minutes later the sight was even better.

The itching to her breasts had subsided to a gentle warm sexual feeling. Penelope knew when she finished and got home to her bath it would not be a long soak with a good book but a long soak with candles by the bath and a languid masturbatory session and hopefully a lovely orgasm to complete. Her boyfriend was away so there was no one to share the bath with - she would have to look after herself.

The itching did not simply go away but instead returned with a vengeance. All at once it was there, not to her breasts this time or arms or legs but her bottom and all around her private bits and pieces. Painful burning itchiness. Penelope grabbed at her trousers and yanked them down with her panties. So much better without the material. Penelope grabbed the bottle of lotion and squeezed and began rubbing it on her bottom, between her legs and to her upper thighs. It gave relief only to be followed by an intense feeling of arousal. She could not stop rubbing herself, not simply in a gentle, circular lotion applying motion but lewdly, sexually, her fingers even stuffing themselves into her.

Penelope had the presence of mind not to sit on her chair, not to get the lotion - and her own wetness - on the fabric of the chair: instead she first sat on the edge of Steve's desk and then, after a few moments, simply lay all along it, thighs widely spread and hand moving between them. What would Steve have thought of the sight if he had been there? And the sounds, had he heard them? Penelope was so conscious of the wet, sticky sounds of her fingers playing in her quim.

The awful, painful itching had gone and been replaced by such a sexual arousal. When she came - both times - she thought she had seen stars.

Slowly, Penelope got to her feet feeling very wobbly, picked up her clothes and made her way to the shower. She really did not like the idea of putting them on again. She was sure the material irritated her skin, though was equally sure a good showering would help. Once more Penelope walked naked through the office. It was not something she would at all wish to do with everyone there. This time not even Steve was there to see her.

As soon as she reached her desk the next day she knew what Steve was going to say. And she had forgotten again - forgotten to make an appointment to see the doctor. In a way she could see why she kept forgetting. The itching was just so intermittent. Her skin had been fine all the evening and during the night. It had quite slipped her mind.

"Did you make an appointment see the doctor?"

It was just as she had anticipated.

"No, Steve. I didn't." She almost added 'Mummy.' "I'll do it now."

But somehow she did not. By the time she had settled, turned the computer monitor on and settled herself, she had completely forgotten about the doctor. She picked up the telephone to telephone but made a completely different work telephone call, indeed several, one after another. She had a lovely lunch break with Debbie in a little vegetarian restaurant. Steve was not invited. They never invited Steve. The afternoon was a busy one full of meetings and Penelope was not back at her desk until well after six and found the office had emptied, except for Steve Knowles. She slumped down in her chair and lay back in it feeling really rather tired.

All of a sudden the itching came. It was worse, even worse than the day before and it had come first, this time, not to her breasts but her nether regions - and with a vengeance.

Her eyes shot open and she jumped up from her chair almost overturning it, "Steve, Steve, I can't even bear to touch myself, please, oh please, It's the itching. Pull my trousers down and, oh, oh, my panties. Quick, quick."

Momentarily Steve seemed to hesitate.

"You want me to..."

"Quick, just do it."

"Your trousers?"

"Yes!"

That she was imploring Steve to touch her, let alone pull her trousers and panties down was something, ordinarily, she could not conceive herself doing but she was so relieved that, once he moved, he did not hang about.

She was leaning forward across her desk, head resting on her arms, literally shaking with the discomfort, no it was pain, as Steve reached around her waist, to undo and pull her jeans down. So stupid to have worn tight fitting jeans, they did not make it easy for him to undo the brass button even with her pulling her tummy in, tug the brass zipper and get the dreadful things down her legs. The panties were so much easier. He had them down in a trice. Penelope kicked off her shoes and the clothing from around her ankles and spread her legs wide apart, really wide. It was bliss to be free of the touching clothing, good to not have her legs touching the other one but, even so, the terrible itching was still there.

"Steve, the lotion, please, please, quickly." Such a plea and such a joy when she felt the cool liquid squirting out onto her buttocks splash, then splash, then splash. "Rub it please, oh yes" Beneath her head her hands were gripping her arms, she seemed almost paralysed, quite incapable of doing the rubbing herself. So soothing, so pleasurable, such relief to feel Steve's hands spreading the lotion over her buttocks, a hand to each cheek.

"Oh Steve, yes. In the crack, yes there, oh, that's good. And my thighs, up a bit, up more, yes there on my cunnie. Rub, really rub, Oh relief, oh bliss! Steve, Steve, my arsehole. Yes, there. Rub, rub, oh it's so soothing. And inside, your finger, get the lotion inside."

Penelope hardly knew what she was saying. She had just asked Steve Knowles to stick a slippery, lotion covered finger right up her bottom. She could feel it pushing at her and then it was inside and wriggling, the invading digit spreading the lotion. Such a relief. But it was not enough. There was still a place the lotion had not reached.

"Steve, my vagina."

"What?"

"Please the lotion - up it. Squirt."

The feel of the bottle's neck at her entrance and then it pushed into her and squirting was such a relief and then his fingers followed, spreading the soothing lotion all around. If only, she thought, his fingers were a little longer they could reach... a sudden thought of Steve's penis came to her mind, erect and with lotion applied to its knob looking like ejaculated semen pushing up into her the whole way, soothing her to her cervix. Was it long enough?

What was she thinking! Desperate for relief even she could not suggest that... but would it not so help? And the feeling was changing, as it always seemed to sexual desire, a need to be fingered and stroked. There was no need for Steve to keep rubbing to stop the itching.

"Steve, I think you can stop, it's easing."

But he did not and she had not the strength to push him away. The feel of his fingers was lovely, so pleasurable, so enjoyable even though it was Steve who had his fingers in her vagina and in her bottom.

"You can stop now."

"You seem very excited, Penny, this isn't just lotion is it?"

"No, no Steve. I can't help it. Oh, yes, keep at it, Steve, everywhere. I'm so..." She could not say it.

"Wet?" filled in Steve, his fingers moving in and out of her vagina and bottom like twin penises.

What was she letting him or asking him to do? It was both awful and yet she did not want him to stop. She wanted an orgasm. She got two.

It is one thing to be spread across a desk with a co-worker helping you to a fantastic orgasm or two: it is rather another when sexual release has come and you see the situation in the cold light of day - or at least the fluorescent light of the evening. Not dissimilar to the unwise fling at an office party or at a training event when after a wild and impromptu fucking lasting not that long, really, you realise you have just cheated on your partner and will have the guilt with you for years.

Penelope raised her head off the desk. She was still wearing her blouse and brassiere but below her waist she was naked and with Steve Knowles behind her. Not that he was undressed or anything. He could so easily have 'taken' her whilst she was so 'in the mood,' she had not at all wanted that but doubted she could or would have resisted and having asked him to put his fingers in her bottom and cunny she could hardly have called 'foul' had he replaced fingers by penis! Those fingers were still in her bottom and vagina if now unmoving. The shear awfulness came to her. The way it had started with the intense, well pain, and how it had changed to arousal. One thing to have Steve relieve the terrible itching: quite another to have him relieve the terrible arousal. Penelope straightened her body, pushing herself up from the desk. Steve removed his fingers from her very personal spaces. He was grinning.

She could not help it. She looked down and it was as clear as anything he had an erection. Clearly a long enough penis to have pushed the lotion up to her cervix. Unsurprising, of course, that he had an erection given what he had been doing. He was a man after all. She could not complain about that. Indeed an argument could be mounted that reasonably she owed him a 'hand job' at least. She was not going to do that.

"Steve, Steve, thank you," it was easy to be gushing, "the pain, the itching, my skin was on fire. So kind to lend me your lotion and... well, yes... apply it."

"Happy to help, Penny, but really you do need to see a doctor or skin specialist. This is not right at all. Perhaps, Penny, I don't know but a natural fibre, cotton, linen or hemp loose light skirt and no panties might help?"

"It might, it might. I don't know about wearing no panties though. I'd feel so strange not wearing them. Sort of undressed."

Steve's eyes made a very obvious movement downwards. Penelope looked and was rather horrified to see just how messy with lotion her pubic hair appeared. Steve's point was, though, how actually, not 'sort of,' undressed she actually was at that moment.

"Oh, I don't know. This is all so awful. I'm going to have a shower."

There was not a hint of discomfort in the shower or when she rubbed her skin with the towel. Even s,o she thought it best if she rubbed her whole body with the lotion before going home but she had left it on Steve's desk. There was little point dressing before returning, at least in her brassiere and shirt. She had left her trousers and panties back at her desk. She walked back with just a towel on her. Penelope had rather hoped Steve would have gone home but he was still there.

"May I borrow the lotion again?"

"Be my guest."

And he watched her apply it, smoothing a thin layer all over her body. It made her cross. Her attitude rather different now the itching and discomfort was gone. He watched her dress as well. It would have been polite to have turned away and left her to apply the lotion and dress in private but Steve Knowles was hardly going to do that - he was not that sort of bloke. She could see the bulge in his trousers again. He was that sort of bloke.

Out in the night and when nearly home she thought again of Steve's suggestion of a cotton skirt and no panties and realised she was sort of half way there. A bit pointless with trousers as they touched her skin almost as closely as panties but somehow, perhaps subconsciously, she had simply not put them on after the lotion and just left them on her desk. Penelope thought of going back for them but thought Steve would have noticed and tucked them out of sight or... it would seem so in character, might have scooped them up in his hand as soon as she had left the floor and brought out his hard penis she had seen so clearly bulging in his jeans and masturbated with them, holding them in his hand around his penis. Were her panties now soaked with his semen? Urgh!

Certainly they were nowhere to be seen the next morning when she came in really early in case they had just been left - the cleaners would probably have seen them but that was better than a work colleague seeing a pair of woman's cotton panties lying on her desk. It was known she worked late. It was known Steve Knowles worked late. Someone might think... they were 'intimate.' Gossip spreads quickly. It would be awful.