Bob Mathews was the quality control manager for Farthing Software’s new products division, and had done well enough to merit a fifteenth-floor office with windows. He was reviewing notes from his latest conference when a striking woman in her thirties strode in, wearing a jet-black pantsuit and carrying a large sample case.
“Excuse me…?” he began.
“Good morning, I’m Carol Parker from G-Case Products,” the woman stated. “We had an appointment this morning to review our product line.”
Bob belatedly checked his planner and saw he’d indeed scheduled the visit. Carol continued: “We’ve developed a new approach to code repositories that will give your team greater reliability and productivity. I’ve got several demo packages here, if you’ll let me install them on your computer.”
Bob swiveled his chair aside as the woman rounded his desk, slid a diskette into the drive, and launched the installation. His attention drifted to a faint, musky scent he couldn’t quite identify. He was so distracted that Carol had to call his name twice when ready.
“I’ve placed the main package in your DEMO directory,” she said, positioning herself behind him.
Bob felt the press of her suit jacket against his shoulders but tried focusing on the software. The demo proved genuinely impressive, and when it ended, Bob sincerely expressed interest, asking her to fetch more materials from her case.
As she walked away, he adjusted his uncomfortably tight pants. Carol’s bent-over posture by her briefcase didn’t help, her skirt clinging greedily to her hips. She straightened, and Bob quickly looked away before she caught him staring.
Carol returned behind his desk with two more diskettes to install.
I wonder what perfume she’s wearing, Bob thought.
While she worked, he discreetly studied her profile—from the auburn bob haircut to her angular nose, down to the obvious curve of breasts beneath her jacket. This time he watched the screen when she finished, and she suggested he run this demo himself while she stepped back to observe.
The new package was a standard “slideshow” program showcasing her company’s software features. Carol stood close, explaining details with each new slide.
Suddenly a slide appeared that clearly didn’t belong—a color photo of a woman in black bra and red panties, hand tugging the underwear down while fingers mingled with pubic hair, masturbating. Her eyes were closed, visible breasts flushed, fingers glistening with moisture.
Bob’s breath caught as his erection surged back fiercely.
“What the…,” he started, then looked at Carol, the photo, then Carol again. The face left no room for doubt.
“Yes, that’s me,” Carol declared, reaching into her pocket, “and since you seemed so…interested earlier, I thought you’d enjoy this photo. This comes with it.”
She produced red panties from her pocket, waved them under Bob’s nose, then dropped them into his hands. That strange musky scent returned, but now he knew its source.
“I suppose your door locks? Don’t stand up,” she continued. “Doubt you want secretaries discovering your…little issue.”
She sauntered to the door, closed it, and turned the lock.
“Now,” she said, “since you’ve seen so much of me, I’d like to see what you’re hiding down there.”
Carol approached still-seated Bob and lightly rested her hand on his groin.
“Your move, or mine?” she smiled.
Bob stood, unbuckled his belt, unzipped, and dropped his pants. Then he pushed down his briefs, his cock slapping heavily against his stomach as it sprung free.
Carol stroked his member with the panties, breathing faster as she watched it throb in the air.
“Not bad,” she remarked. “How about wearing these to complete the look?”
Bob flushed but couldn’t deny the thrill her words sent through him.
He sat, removed shoes and socks, stepped from his pants, and pulled on the red panties. They were ridiculously small, containing his balls but barely an inch of his shaft.
Carol came to him and cradled his silk-sheathed testicles, hefting them curiously. She flicked a nail against his purple-veined head, then wrapped her arms around him and kissed him savagely.
Their tongues dueled as she rubbed her skirt against him, swiveling hips to feel his excitement. She pushed Bob into his chair and spread his legs, leaned down and blew on him—warm, moist air over throbbing flesh—inhaling his scent deeply.
“Let Carol show you how to maximize your potential,” she murmured before engulfing his cockhead between her crimson lips.
Bob squirmed as she moved up and down slowly, trapping his shaft between her mouth’s rough palate and rasping tongue. He gripped the armrests when Carol accelerated, varying rhythm while occasionally letting his cock slip free with an audible pop! before devouring it again.
Soon—too soon—he felt familiar tension in his balls, and when she massaged them through the silk, it was the final trigger that sent him over the edge.
“Aaargh!” “Urrrg!” “Ummff!”
Bob ground his teeth while thrusting hips repeatedly, Carol’s mouth and throat draining him. His heart pounded, the air suddenly chilling as she cleaned him with tongue flicks while handling his spent cock and balls.
She lifted her head and grinned wickedly, tongue extended.