TAKEN BY SURPRISE

copyright: Lesley Tara, 2011

I parked my little car in the tree-lined suburban street, took the folder of papers from the passenger seat beside me, walked up to the front door of the well-kept detached house and rang the bell, hearing its chimes echo distantly inside. After a moment I saw, outlined indistinctly through the frosted glass panel, the shape of a woman approaching. However, when the door swung open I was surprised to find that this was not my boss, but a complete stranger. For a moment, I wondered if I had mistaken the house number and I got a little flustered; when that happens, I have a tendency to babble that makes me seem even younger and more inexperienced than I am.

‘Oh!’ I gasped. ‘Umm … er, hi! Is Ms Kelsoe at home? Only, she left these at the office, and I thought she said that she’d need them for her meeting tomorrow … so … well, I thought … umm … yes, well, maybe I should bring them …’, I paused, and then ended rather lamely: ‘I’m Trisha, her PA.’

The woman looked at me with no change of expression for a moment, and I began to think that my bright idea – show initiative, I’d told myself, impress the boss – perhaps had not been so smart after all. The woman in front of me was quite striking – she seemed to be of similar age to my boss, in her mid 30s, but she was a bit taller than Ms Kelsoe, and her hair was darker and cut in a shorter style. She was wearing no shoes, and her legs were encased in smart black tights or stockings; it looked as if she had simply shed her business suit and flung on a flimsy wrap. This was in an elegant blue and silver pattern, and was only loosely tied at her waist; as it gaped open at the top, I could see the upper part of a lime green full-cup bra and the deep cleavage of the shapely breasts that it enclosed. The woman was holding a glass in one hand which was half-filled with white wine, but when she saw my glance flick towards it she took a large gulp and then set it down with a bump on a small table nearby.

‘You’re too late, the bitch left to catch her flight half an hour ago’, she snapped curtly, and then muttered darkly, more to herself than to me: ‘if it really is a meeting she’s gone to – Paris in the spring, oh yeah! So why didn’t she want me to come along for the weekend, huh?’

Then the woman looked me slowly up and down in a considering way, and I felt even more unsure of my ground.

‘So, you’re the new PA, are you? And quite a peach, too … she hasn’t said much about that, oh no!’ the woman observed, before adding brutally: ‘I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to get your panties down, a pretty little poppet like you’.

I was shocked at her bold frankness and tried to keep my expression blank, but I am young and naive, and something in my look must have given me away. The woman glared furiously at me and her mouth narrowed in an angry line.

‘The bloody bitch – she HAS!’ the woman snapped, ‘and you dropped them, you little slut, didn’t you! How many times? How many times have you got up on her desk and spread your legs, you little hussy?’

I blushed – which I know makes a pretty picture – partly from embarrassment, and partly from the vivid flashback of arousing memories. It hadn’t really been that many times – after all, I’d only been working for Ms Kelsoe for five weeks, and nearly three of those had passed before she was sure enough of my lesbian orientation to make her move. Mind you, since then I had happily knelt in front of her leather executive desk chair and paid oral worship to her mature pussy at least once each working day, and sometimes more often if there was a gap between her appointments or meetings. In return, she would strap on the large dildo that she kept hidden in a locked filing-cabinet, and fuck me doggy-style hard and long – though she insisted that I wear a ball gag, after I made rather too much noise in my moments of climax on the first occasion that she took me. However, we had never done it on her desk – the preferred position was for me to be on my hands and knees on the carpet in front of it, my skirt and panties discarded, my thighs apart and my ass jutting up in the air, and she would take a steely grip above my hips and grind the long and wickedly-ridged plastic phallus deep into my vagina, and then she would reach underneath me to yank my breasts out of their bra cups and pull and squeeze my stiff nipples.

As these heady memories transfixed me for a moment, giving me a sudden hot damp flush in my pussy, the woman came to a decision and acted upon it.

‘So … sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander! You’d better bring that in’, she said, and then seized the folder that I was holding and jerked it towards her. I was taken by surprise and stumbled inwards over the threshold, relinquishing the folder in order to try and keep my balance. I heard the front door slam shut behind me, and from the corner of my eye saw the woman contemptuously hurl the folder down in the corner of the hallway. I was still bewildered by the sudden pace of events when she stepped up rapidly behind me, seized the collar of my suit jacket, and jerked it downwards off my shoulders – the buttons at the front held, and the result was to pinion my arms to my sides, like some impromptu strait-jacket.

‘Well, if you’re giving out pussy, I think I’ll have some too!’ growled this fearsome female, as she propelled me the short distance into the living room and then shoved me forwards, so that I fell onto a large leather couch, my face down on the seat with my knees and legs resting on the deeply-carpeted floor. As I turned my head to utter a cry of protest, I saw an arresting sight. The woman stood towering above me like an Amazon warrior, with her legs straddling my prone form. With a single swift motion she tugged undone the tie of her wrap and flung the garment aside, revealing that beneath it she was wearing only a pair of traditional stockings that were held up by a lime-green garter belt which matched her bra, and the latter garment, which proudly displayed her full bust – I’d guess she might well be a 34D cup size. Her smooth-shaven naked cunt was fully exposed, the outer labia prominently puckering outwards, and as I stared at her commanding form a lustful glint came into her eyes and she rubbed one hand up and down her pussy, thrusting it forwards in my direction.

‘Do you want it?’ she purred; ‘do you want it, you little strumpet? Well, you’re gonna fucking get it, that’s for sure!’

I gave a little shiver at hearing the aggression in her promise, and she laughed harshly. I tried to rise, but with my arms still trapped in my jacket this was a futile effort even before I felt the weight of her taller and heavier frame come down on my lower back, and the pressure of her breasts rested below my shoulder-blades. My first noise was a weak protesting squeak, as the woman expertly pulled my tight black mini-skirt up around my hips, and then with one forceful tug she ripped my skimpy thong-style panties down to just above my knees. The next thing – making me squeal shrilly – was that I felt a hand take a firm grip on my now-naked and defenceless pussy, squeezing my labial lips together and rubbing remorselessly along my cunt. Her fingers slid slickly over my sweaty skin, feeling the juices that were seeping from my widening slit.

‘So, you’re dripping wet already, are you – you teasing little bitch!’ hissed a voice just behind my right ear, ‘are you gonna give it – or am I gonna take it?’

I was washed away in a whirlpool of sensation, and gave only an incoherent noise in reply – but my body spoke for me, as I opened my hips to give her easier access to my pussy and arched my back, thrusting my ass upwards to grind against her pelvis.

‘Yeah, you’re wide and wet and willing to give it, aren’t you, you lezzie slut!’ she grunted, and then my stomach fluttered and my vagina flushed with warm juices as she added, with a lustful rasp in her voice: ‘but I’m gonna take it, anyhow!’, and with that she rammed two long fingers straight into my hole, making me gasp and sob with the sudden intrusion and the erogenous impact of her masterful presence.

It’s true that, ever since my lesbian initiation at the hands (and pussy) of my mother’s younger cousin, when I stayed with her for a summer holiday at the ripening and malleable age of sixteen, I have always been most turned on by older authoritative women, and submissive to their commands and demands. Even so, I could hardly believe it: here I was being hard-fucked, almost raped, by a woman who I had never seen until a few moments ago and who’s name I didn’t even know – and I was loving every pussy-pounding second of it. She was obviously my boss’s lover and live-in partner, and it looked like they had just had a row and this woman had subsequently been drinking – I could smell the wine on her breath as it brushed my cheek. It certainly released all of her inhibitions, and her taking me by storm in this way surely released all of mine – I was just putty in her hands, eagerly willing her to do anything she wanted, anything at all!

I gasped something to this effect, pleading with her to take me, have me, fuck me any way she wanted. Her response was action not words: with one hand she rubbed along my labia with her nails and then her knuckles, whilst placing her other hand on the small of my back and firmly holding me down. Then she began a rapid shafting of her two longest fingers deep into me, pistoning them in and out mercilessly with a corkscrew twisting motion of her wrist that magnified the erogenous effect tenfold.

‘Oooh, aaaaah! Ooooh, fuck! Oh, yes! Yes, yessss! – please, harder, oh God, yes – harder!!’ I gasped, squirming from her expert finger-fucking. The woman gave a grunt of satisfaction at my complete surrender, and then roughly spun me over onto my back. She quickly undid the two buttons of my suit jacket – really, it was a miracle that they had held this far – and pulled it out from under me. My neatly-tailored pintuck shirt was unbuttoned with equal rapidity, and I shifted my shoulders to ease her removal of the garment.

The woman paused for a moment, contemplating what is maybe my best feature – my breasts. They are not huge – they were certainly a couple of sizes smaller than her bountiful endowment – but they are perfectly-shaped pert pyramids of smooth pink girl-flesh, still clearly entirely as nature made them, and crowned with rosebud aureoles and stiffly erect tits. I know how pretty they look in the lingerie that I choose so carefully – black, deep red or dark blue bras of skimpy lace and pretty decorative trim and bows, with the clever underwiring giving them that extra jutting prominence.

‘Mmm’, she said, running a finger down my cleavage and sending a tingling thrill through me that impacted in my pussy like a homing missile. ‘Nice, very nice … I can see why she couldn’t keep her paws off you, if you were swinging these around every time you moved!’

She hooked her fingers under the bra straps at my shoulders and simultaneously pulled them sideways, jerking the cups down and flipping my mounds into full view with practised expertise. Then she sank lower, her hips straddling my mine, and I felt a charge of arousal as her hot moist pussy-mound rested on my lower stomach. She reached for my breasts with both hands, kneading the soft flesh, pushing them together and pulling them apart, and rolling my nipples in her fingers. I gave a series of moans and arched my legs as wide apart as I could; she sensed my movement and understood that I was offering her everything – every and any part of my body, to do with whatever she wanted.

The first smile crossed her face, although it was a wolfish one of lust and conquest. She reached behind her and speared a finger once again into my cunt-hole, and then drove it around in clockwise circles until I was nearly screaming in arousal and sexual sensitivity.

My conqueror paused for a moment to remove my skirt and panties altogether. Then she rocked backwards onto her haunches, took hold of my knees and pushed my legs as far apart as they would go. With that wonderful anticipatory I’m-gonna-get-soooo-fucked feeling coursing through me, I slumped further down on the couch, thrusting my pelvis out towards her. This brought my pussy level with her face, and without hesitation she lunged forwards and feasted upon my sex. Her long firm tongue penetrated me repeatedly, alternating between curling and thrusting inwards, and then rasping up and down my length, nibbling on my lips and teasing around my clit.

My God, this woman knew what she was doing! I’d been eaten out a fair few times in the previous five years (I’m just over twenty years old), and mostly by experienced older women, but she outshone all of them – she was even better than Valery, my mom’s cousin who took my lesbian cherry when I was sixteen and she was thirty-two, and who had been a veteran cruiser of gay bars ever since she had left home for college aged eighteen! (My parents knew nothing of this, of course; they just thought that she was focused upon her career as a cellist with a famous east-coast symphony orchestra – but Valery was a maestro at producing sweet sounds from a girl’s body gripped between her thighs just as much as from a wooden instrument, and she sure coaxed some pure high notes out of me.)

As the woman’s tongue rasped along the walls of my vagina, making every nerve-ending tingle in ecstasy, she supplemented its attentions by rubbing my clitoris vigorously with one hand and probing my anal hole with the other. I was completely losing control of my responses under this triple-pronged assault, and my body jerked convulsively up and down, until at last I gave a high-pitched cry – almost a scream – and shuddered from head to toe in climactic spasms. I was so utterly blown away that when the orgasm had washed through me, I sprawled on the couch, as limp as a puppet whose strings have been cut.

Whilst I lay there, gasping for breath, the woman took her opportunity to rise and cross quickly to a cabinet standing in a corner behind the couch. This took her out of my view for a moment, but my head was still spinning and I gave it little attention – until a moment later, when she stalked back into view with a viciously-long dildo projecting like a spear from the leather harness that she had buckled around her waist and over her pussy.

I swallowed a little fearfully, as it looked larger than anything I had taken inside me before – and I have quite a small and tight vagina. I began to mumble something about waiting a moment, but my conqueror intended to have her prize to the fullest degree. With a crisp shake of the head, she dismissed my hesitant pleas, and instead effortlessly rolled me back over onto my front again – she didn’t look very muscular, but she must work out regularly at the gym, for she was strong and manoeuvring me around seemed to cause her no bother at all. The movement had the effect of shoving my face into the back of the couch, and effectively muffled anything that I might say – or scream.

In truth, my resistance was half-hearted. Part of me was concerned that I couldn’t take a dildo that big and that it would painful, but the other half of me – the real me, an utter lezzie nymphomaniac to the core – was thrilled at the prospect and broke out in a sweat that mingled some fear with a lot of feverish anticipation.

I gave a sudden shrill yelp, though more of surprise than pain, as she smacked my butt-cheeks firmly, sending a different kind of shock running through me.

‘Spread your cunt, c’mon, get it open for me!!’ was the woman’s instruction.

I shifted my knees further apart and stuck my butt out over the edge of the couch, in the process deliberately giving a bit of enticing wiggle. However, this earned me another slap on the ass, and in surprise I looked backwards over my shoulder to where the woman was rubbing some lubricating gel (thank God! I thought) onto the shaft of the dildo. With a feral smile curling her lips in lustful anticipation of fucking a young woman who was barely more than half her age, she repeated her command:

‘Open up, slut – open up, and get what your truly deserve!’

I realised that something more was needed, and so I reached down between my thighs and used my fingers to prise my labia apart, widening my hole with a murmuring whimper of desire. This offering of utter submission was what the woman wanted, and she reached forward to clamp her hands over my shoulders. I had only the briefest of warnings as the rounded tip of the strap-on pressed for a second against the base of my cunt, and then the woman pushed her feet against the carpet behind her and lunged forwards. Using the leverage conferred by her position behind and above me, together with the momentum imparted by her greater weight, she pivoted her pelvis and speared the hard rod of the strap-on straight into my vagina, ramming it home until the faceplate of its harness slapped against my ass with a wet resounding smack. I gave a deep groan, and shuddered from my head to my toes under the twin impacts of her action – the first and lesser being the physical penetration, the second and greater being her sexual dominance.

The woman’s hands gripped my waist, and her slow rasping withdrawal of the plastic cock was an exercise in deliberate arousal that made my head swim. She paused just a tantalising few seconds, and then – just as I was about to break down and plead for it – she smacked it back into me with even greater speed and force. I gave a throaty howl, and closed my eyes as intense waves of excitement radiated through my nervous system. I abandoned myself to being taken, luxuriating in my powerless acceptance of her mastery over me.

That woman fucked me relentlessly, like she was drilling for oil. Well, I’m a gusher at the best of times, and her angry and almost savage thrusts sure hit the mother lode. In all the sex that I’d previously had – and quite a few of my older lovers tended towards the dominant, and could be pretty forceful at times – no one had ever shafted me so deeply and so hard, with such furious pace and force. She had literally swept me off my feet – seized me, stripped me, screwed me and taken me to Sapphic heaven.

As I whimpered and writhed under the impact of each impalement from the dildo, the woman reached forward and wound her hand into my tumbled tresses of rich red hair – which is my other best feature, and goes so well with my deep brown eyes, pale skin and scattering of ginger freckles. She used her grip to pull my head backwards, arching my spine and giving her an even better angle for ramming me with the strap-on phallus. This also brought my breasts into prominence and easy reach, as my chest was thrust out in front of me like the figurehead of an old sailing ship. The woman removed a hand from her iron grip on my hair, and used it to reach round and cup one of my breasts, pinching the flesh and rolling the nipple between her fingers.

This was the final trigger, and I came with blinding intensity, experiencing the most volcanic orgasm that I have ever known. I would have shrieked at the top of my lungs, but the woman anticipated this and pushed my face into the back of the couch, muffling my cries. As I subsided into shuddering gasps, she drew her fingernails firmly down my back from shoulders to butt, raking parallel tracks on either side of my spine. This trick worked its magic, for I had barely registered that my first climax had finished when her nails curved round to come under my ass and reach the target of my pussy – where their arrival instantly detonated a second explosion of sexual pleasure.

The woman rose from behind my prone body, pulling the dildo out of my cunt and leaving my vaginal juices to seep onto the carpet. However, she was not done with using me yet, not by any means. She unbuckled the straps of the harness, and let the strap-on fall from her body to thud onto the floor. Then she swung around to sit on the couch beside me, and took a firm grip on my dishevelled ginger hair. In one fluid motion, she spread her legs open and pulled my head down between her thighs, until my face smacked into her damp hot pussy.

She had a sharp musky odour, slightly stale and sweaty. She evidently had not had a shower since coming home, and with sudden vivid desire I imagined her pussy rubbing against the crotch of her panties all day long as she masterfully carried out whatever important professional or business duties that she had – for like Ms Kelsoe, she had the complete confidence and command of someone who gave orders rather than received them.

I revelled in the ripe smell of her cunt, so much more arousing than if it had been sprinkled with the finest Chanel perfume. I was still slightly dazed from the adrenalin rush induced by the way in which she had taken me and the stunning intensity of my orgasms, but I know exactly what to do when presented with the wonderful prospect of a mature woman’s clean-shaven pussy, its labia parted and moist juices seeping from the widening deep-pink gorge of pleasure lying between them. I might be only just twenty years old, but during the last five years I had more than served my apprenticeship in cunnilingus – I was at least a journeywoman, if not a master-craftswoman at the fine art of pussy-eating.

My tutor had been literally my teacher – for, after initiating me and finding that her surmise that I was a lustful lesbian was completely correct, Valery had introduced me to her own very first lover. Martha was then (and is still) a science teacher at the high school in our home town, and when she had been a young woman of twenty-four she had seduced my mother’s cousin, then a nubile and vivacious seventeen year-old, and they had conducted a passionate but completely clandestine affair during the year and a half before Valery left for college. When Valery brought me to Martha’s house, I was a keen but inexperienced sixteen year-old who had only lost her virginity a month before, and Martha was then aged thirty-nine, a tall handsome blue-eyed blonde, still with a youthful figure of small firm breasts and a trim ass well-honed at the gym. I already had a bit of a crush on Martha from school, without having had any idea that she (or, indeed I) was a lesbian, and so after only a few seconds of surprise I was quick to drop my panties and get down on my knees between her opening thighs and pay homage to the naked pussy that was revealed. Martha was a good school-teacher and a great lesbian trainer, and during the next four years she certainly taught me about the chemistry between women (which is all the greater with the catalyst of an age gap), of the blazing reaction when cunt grinds against cunt in a scissors-fuck, and of the formula that mouth plus pussy equals glorious ecstasy.

I now put all that to good effect, as my nose was forcefully rubbed into the still-nameless woman’s gash. Twisting my head slightly, I began to nibble along her puffy labia, at first gently teasing, and then alternately tugging and releasing the soft red engorged flesh. I was rewarded with an audible intake of breath, and the woman slightly arched her back as she spread her legs still further apart, clutching the back my head of my head with ever tighter urgency.

I began the second stage, fastening my lips over her hole like a limpet clamping to a rock, and then alternating between spearing thrusts inwards with my tongue, curling it to give it greater rigidity and penetrative power, and then sucking hard as I withdrew it. This is a technique that I learnt from Martha, who said that my wide pouty lips were just ideal for the purpose (together with my dark eyes, they also give me a sultry look which a lot of women find a real turn-on due to its contrast with my otherwise sweet-innocent-teen appearance of tumbled red hair, ginger freckles, high pert breasts and slim youthful body). I have a strong pair of lungs and well-practiced throat muscles, and when I apply myself to a woman’s cunt in this way I can make her feel almost as if I am sucking her insides out through her pussy. The effect of this is incredibly erogenous, especially when alternating with the inward jabs of my tongue.

The woman began to utter a series of soft moans, and she spread her hips even wider apart so that I could delve my tongue as far inside her vagina as possible. After a minute or two of this, she began to shudder and gasp, and she released my head in order to grasp the front cups of her green bra and jerk them savagely downwards, exposing her large swaying breasts. With a broken cry, she seized her own nipples, pulling and twisting them forcefully. At the same moment, she thrust her pelvis forwards, her ass leaving the seat of the couch as her back arched, and her head went backwards, her eyes glazed with lust and her mouth wide open.

‘Aaaah!! Oooh, Christ, fucking YES!! Aaaaaahhh!! Sweet-fucking-CHRIST! Do it! DO ME – DO ME NOW, AAAAGHH! NOW!!!’ she screamed hoarsely, her whole body thrashing up and down spasmodically.

I knew then that the perfect moment had arrived, and my heart sang with the pleasure of it – for I was taking her now, no doubt about it! I shifted my mouth to suck her clitoris in between my teeth and sharply nip it, whilst I shoved two fingers deep and hard into her sloppy gaping hole, and pistoned them in and out as fast and hard as I could. It only took four such strokes before her climax broke, exploding like a volcano with streams of wet warm juices gushing from her pussy, and she gave a huge cry before collapsing limply down on the sticky seat of the couch.

With her lust slaked, the woman’s fury seemed to abate as well, and she rubbed my back and stroked my up-thrust rump in quite a tender massage. After a few moments in which I enjoyed these attentions, she rolled me gently onto my back and began to caress my breasts, before taking my nipples into her mouth and nibbling them, whilst her hand slipped between my eagerly parted thighs and probed my tender hole. Then, still slowly fondling my cunt, she kissed me on the lips, and we began to talk quite companionably.

The woman introduced herself as Margaret: ‘Mags to my friends, and I think you qualify now, pretty-pussy!’ she laughed and squeezed my breast, making my lips part in pleasure – both those on my face and those between my legs.

I was right: Mags was my boss’s long-term partner, and had been living with her for the last eight years. Usually all was well, and whilst they both sometimes took up the opportunity of an attractive and available female, they always told each other about it – a practice that frequently led to some wild and wonderful threesomes. Recently they had both been under a lot of pressure at work, and it had led to a series of silly and unnecessary rows. The final straw was that Mags had been hurt that her lover was spending a weekend in Paris and – even it was a working visit – had not asked for her company. Together with the fact that she had recently smelled another woman’s juices on a pair of my boss’s soiled panties – mine, of course – her resentment had focused on suspicions of an affair between my boss and her svelte Parisian counterpart, which had led to angry exchanges, door-slamming, and my boss storming off early to the airport.

Mags admiringly stroked my firm young breasts, teasing and tweaking my nipples until I murmured and squirmed with pleasure.

‘I should have guessed something from how little she’s said about you, since you started working for her – but I’ve been so busy myself, I didn’t think’, she admitted. Mags declared that her lover could never have resisted such a tempting young thing as me, once she had realised that I was a lesbian.

‘And I don’t blame her, really I don’t – especially now that I’ve had the pleasure as well!’ she laughed. ‘I’m sure she would have told me sometime soon – in fact, I remember about a week ago she started to mention something about you, but I had to make some business calls, and then we had a silly spat about working from home, and I guess she was peeved with me.’

‘Anyway’, added Mags, after a short pause due to her sucking on my tits whilst fingering my clit, until I moaned and shuddered in a quick and intense orgasm, ‘we’ve got a surprise for her now, haven’t we? She’s only staying tonight and tomorrow in Paris – she’s due back here just after lunchtime on Sunday … so, why don’t you stay and console me while she’s away, and we’ll make it a threesome when she gets back?’

I didn’t need any persuasion, and spent that night with Mags in their huge double-bed, intensely turned on by the thought that on other nights my sexy boss lay there in her arms. The next morning we showered together, went for a long walk in the nearby woods, talking and getting to know each other better, before shopping for groceries. We fucked again both before and after cooking a delicious prawn risotto for our dinner, after which we lay entwined together on the leather couch, watching episodes of ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ from her DVD collection. We had discovered that we were both fans, and during dinner had debated which of the chicks was the hottest (Charisma Carpenter from the early series for me, always – and not surprisingly, Michelle Trachtenberg from the later ones for Mags). We showed each other our favourite episodes until after midnight, by which time our strength had returned and we had a long 69 on the living room floor, whilst Buffy saved the day yet again, ignored on the television screen beside us as we lapped and licked and gasped and moaned to a mutual bone-shaking climax.

Mags and I had discussed our surprise, and were ready when my boss’s smart white Porsche drew up in the drive and she approached the front door, looking a little wary as to what reception she might get from her partner. From upstairs, with the bedroom door slightly open, I could hear the note of relief in her voice as Mags gave her a warm welcome, and apologised for her suspicions and the silly row of Friday evening.

‘That’s OK, hon, I understand’, came my boss’s slightly husky Scottish timbre, ‘I shouldn’t have stormed out like that – I should have stayed, and explained better.’

There was a short pause, for what must have been a making-up-hug and loving kiss, and then Mags announced that she had a surprise upstairs. Tingling with anticipation, I heard my boss’s firm tread ascending the stairs, and a few seconds later the master bedroom door swung back and Ms Kelsoe gaped at the view before her. We had removed the quilt and I lay on my back, spread-eagled on the mattress. My wrists and ankles were tied to the four corners of the bed with bright red ribbon – it was not really bondage, for a hard jerk of any limb would have freed it, but it was the suggestion of bondage which gave my pose such an erotic charge. I was wearing only a pair of scarlet hold-up stockings and red high-heels, but around each of my breasts Mags had tied a decorative band of the wide red ribbon, finishing with a lavish bow. Another length of the ribbon had been wound around my waist and criss-crossed over my cunt, where it finished in an even larger bow-tie. Finally, I had been muzzled by a ball-gag (something they evidently both found useful!), and a piece of white card had been placed between my widespread upper thighs and propped against my pussy. On it was written in bold black letters the simple exhortation and invitation: ‘Fuck me! Fuck me NOW!!’

Ms Kelsoe was thunderstruck – whatever she had anticipated, it certainly wasn’t her delectable young PA, all decorated and wrapped by her lover as a make-up-sex present. Mags appeared over my boss’s shoulder, and slipped her suit jacket from her shoulders – before her hands returned to grasp my boss’s breasts and massage them, as Mags kissed and nibbled at the base of her neck.

‘What? … who? … how did you? … when?’ stuttered Ms Kelsoe.

Mags stopped nibbling her lover’s earlobe and answered her, whilst at the same time undoing the side button and zip of my boss’s suit skirt and letting it fall to her ankles.

‘Yes, honey, some of those!’ laughed Mags, as she unbuttoned Ms Kelsoe’s smart white silk shirt and pulled it down her arms, so that my boss was left wearing only her hold-ups, panties and bra.

‘Trisha turned up about half an hour after you left, with some papers you meant to take but left at the office. There she was on the very doorstep, all bunny-tailed and eager to please … and she does, she pleases very much, you were so right to seduce her!’

Ms Kelsoe looked startled at the revelation that our office antics were known, and glanced sideways at her partner in concern, but Mags swiftly reassured her. Uncoupling my boss’s bra at the back and casting the garment aside, she freed Ms Kelsoe’s breasts – not as full as her own, but still a handsome 32C – and then massaged them, cupping them in her hands and pointing the nipples at my pussy like the barrels of a shotgun.

‘It’s OK, babe, you’d have told me, I know, and brought her home soon enough – in fact, I think you were going to say something a while ago … [my boss nodded at this point] … and it was my fault you didn’t. Anyhow, the little poppet and I have been getting on just fine, and I’m well on the way to catching up with you in the fuck-Trisha league tables!’

Mmm, I thought behind my gag, now there’s a concept I like the sound of! I made imploring eyes at my smart and slender boss, and waggled my tits invitingly.

‘C’mon, babe, you’re keeping a girl waiting!’ laughed Mags, ‘go get started, and I’ll join the pair of you in a minute – I’m gonna get my biggest strap-on, and you’re both gonna feel every inch of it!’

With that, she completed the undressing of her lover by stripping Ms Kelsoe’s panties – which had acquired a dark damp stain at the base of her pussy – down her legs in one erotic surging movement. If it was possible, my tits got even harder and my vagina moister, as Ms Kelsoe stepped towards the bed, removed the card from in front of my cunt, and then sensuously bent her back, her gorgeous breasts swinging free beneath her, as she ran her tongue along my groove, tasting my pussy juice as if it was a vintage claret.

As Ms Kelsoe teased her fingers into my hole and raised her head to rasp her tongue across my tits, Mags reappeared in view behind her lover. She had quickly discarded her own clothes, keeping on only her favourite black leather boots (she had worn them when drilling me with a dildo the previous afternoon, explaining that they were her ‘bedroom pair’ which she didn’t dirty by wearing outside the house), and had buckled on the harness of a huge bulbous purple-coloured plastic phallus. Ms Kelsoe was now kneeling on the bed between my wide-open thighs, grasping my breasts and sucking and pulling on my achingly-aroused nipples.

Mags gave a grunt of satisfaction at this view, and positioned herself immediately behind my boss’s wiggling ass. Without standing on ceremony, Mags gripped her lover by the hips and thrust the strap-on into her pussy, and then began a rhythm of push and pull which steadily increased in forcefulness and pace. I could feel my boss begin to tremble as her climax built, but she continued her devotions to my mammaries until the last possible second, only then raising her head, arching her back, and giving a howl of orgasmic release and pleasure.

So began an amazing afternoon of sex – it was actually my first-ever threesome, and with two such experienced and passionate older women, it was a truly mind-blowing experience. I think it was the best sex that I have ever had … well, at least until the following weekend, when they both had me for all of both days … or maybe the weekend after that, which was incredible, we really hit the heights then … or was it the next one? …

If you enjoyed this, check out my other stories … you might like them too … (to find them, follow the author link at the top of this story)

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