by Freya Kane
“Anyone could be watching us right now,” Mr. Grant breathed into my ear, a thrust of his hips punctuating every word. "The view....God, you're so tight....the view is amazing from over there."
“Ah-ah-ah, Mr. Grant!” I cried, bucking my hips back against his as I came harder than I ever had in my life. My inner muscles clenched around his dick, gripping him tightly and milking his release from him.
He pulled out and stepped back, watching me with hooded eyes as his semen dripped down my thighs. Like a gentleman, he gathered up my clothes and handed them to me, giving me a lingering kiss before making a very ungentlemanly request.
“I’m going to keep this,” he said, holding up the gold thong. “Don’t clean yourself up. I want you to walk home with my come dripping down your thighs so that anyone who walks by you will know what you were just doing.”
“Of course, Mr. Grant,” I said, always the dutiful employee. In the back of my mind, I was worried that my boss’ bareback fucking would get me pregnant, but I kind of liked the idea. The thought of my breasts growing and my belly swelling with his child made me even wetter.
“And send me a photo of your pussy when you get home, just so I can check your work.”
***
I walked home, feeling the slick slide of Mr. Grant’s come overflowing from my pussy and dripping down my thighs. The walk was short, but the awareness that anyone who gave me more than a second glance would know I was freshly fucked aroused me more than I expected.
I unlocked my door and sank onto my couch, still trying to wrap my head around the day I’d had before I remembered I had homework.
I retrieved my phone from the recesses of my handbag and then sat forward, perching myself on the edge of the red couch. I opened my legs, widening them enough that he would have a clear view of the mess on my thighs before holding my phone between my legs and snapping a picture.
The photo was perfect. My hairless pussy was still bright pink with lust and shiny with my juices as well as his. I quickly hit send, and a moment later my phone buzzed with a text.
“Very nice. You look ready for round 2.”
I flicked on the video recorder on my phone and dipped my hand between my thighs and started rubbing my clit, taking a quick thirty-second video before sending it off.
A minute passed and another reply arrived. My right hand stayed busy between my legs until I read his reply.
“Stop. We have lunch plans tomorrow & I want you wet and horny.”
Sighing, I stopped. Another message. “Wear a skirt tomorrow. Something knee length with volume.”
Curiouser and curiouser.
***
Work was more tedious than usual the next day. The files swam in front of my face, endless client names and depositions melting into a stream of meaningless text. Even the friendly banter of my coworkers became a nonsensical din.
I had worn a slim fitting pale blue button-down top and an A-line skirt with plenty of swirls of extra fabric for whatever he had planned.
The minutes crawled by, and I spent the time I should have been working studying the office. Like most of the law offices in the city, this one was all dark wood and leather. Mr. Grant’s door was heavy oak and far too sturdy of a barrier between myself and that fantastically sexy man.
My phone buzzed, and I stealthily slid it from my purse. The other partners might frown upon me fucking Mr. Grant, but personal cell phone use during working hours was an unforgivable sin in their eyes.
“Meet me in Harris Park.”
Grabbing my purse, I strode out of the office without hesitation. Harris Park was about eight blocks away, on the campus of our local university branch. This time of day it would be filled with students, taking advantage of the unseasonably warm day to study or nap outside.
The leaves were changing to red and gold as the last bits of summer gave up their hold. The park was sparsely filled with people - four guys in baseball hats playing frisbee, a study group of earnest looking freshman, a few people napping or pretending to study under the various trees. It wasn’t wall to wall people, but it was far from empty.
Mr. Grant was comfortably sitting on the ground underneath a maple tree covered with blazing red leaves, a folded newspaper in his lap.
“Hello there Gloria,” he said, smiling widely.
I made myself comfortable on the black and white plaid blanket he had spread across the ground. He moved the newspaper slightly, and I could see the erection tenting his pants. “I’ve been hard all day thinking of this,” he admitted, his voice low and rough. “I wanted to take you fuck you somewhere really public, and I couldn’t think of anywhere more perfect. I was up half the night, just reliving the way your pussy felt around my dick.”
I moaned low in my throat, shifting slightly as I instinctively searched for any bit of friction between my legs. “I didn’t wear any panties,” I stated. “I’m so wet, I bet you could slide right into me and no one would notice.” I shivered at the filthy thoughts. “I was a little worried you might get me pregnant when you came inside me, but not worried enough to care. Feeling your come spurting inside me just made me come even harder.”
He groaned. “Your pussy feels so good, I couldn’t stand to wear a condom even if you asked me to.”
I quickly pulled away the newspaper and settled myself on his lap. The bulge in his pants pressed against my bare ass, but the soft fabric of my skirt concealed it from view as he unzipped his pants. His erection sprang free and I raised my hips slightly as he guided it into my pussy. I sat back down, his cock filling me as he pulled his hands out from under my skirt.
The newspaper was a perfect cover and I unfolded it with trembling fingers, making it look like we were deeply engrossed in the finance section. Mr. Grant slowly began rocking his hips. The motion was so slight, nothing like the pounding he had given me last night, but the way he was reigning himself in only increased the intensity.
A bead of sweat dripped down between my breasts as my mind fought my body’s instinct to start bouncing on his cock in the middle of a public park. I squeezed my vaginal muscles and heard him gasp. “Do that again,” he pleaded, jolting his hips up. At a leisurely pace, I slowly clenched and released my inner muscles, gripping his cock.
A purple frisbee landed about ten feet from us, and one of the baseball cap wearers ran to grab it, flashing me a grin as he jogged back to his friends.
“He had no idea,” I said, growing a little bolder and rocking my hips on Mr. Grant’s. “What do you think he would have done if I had lifted up my skirt and shown him your dick buried in me?”
“Asked to join in if he has any brains.” He gasped and bucked upward, lifting me up slightly with the force of his thrust. “Gloria, I’m going to come.” His hand snaked under my skirt and found my clit, pinching the nerve-filled area as his cock pulsed inside me. The pleasure-pain of that rough touch was enough to send me spiraling over the edge, my grasping pussy milking him of every drop.
Mr. Grant was slumped against the tree and I was slumped against him. Around us, people were studying, playing frisbee and enjoying a sunny fall afternoon. One or two were giving us second glances, but they were all in the dark over what had just gone on under their noses.
His cock softened and slipped from me and Mr. Grant tucked it into his pants as discretely as he could while I was still straddling his hips.
I stood up, my legs still shaky, and smoothed down my skirt. “I should get back.”
“Wait.” Mr. Grant stood up in one fluid motion and pulled me against him. His lips were soft but insistent against mine, and his tongue tasted like cinnamon gum, something that made him seem innocent despite the last 48 hours of debauchery we had engaged in. I felt him slip something into the pocket of my skirt before letting me go with a quick squeeze and a whispered, "Come to my office at the end of the day."
I ducked into a coffee shop a few blocks away, intending to clean up and grab a latte while I checked the mysterious gift he had left me.
<
br /> Inside my pocket was a silver thong, nearly identical to the one I had left him yesterday. Tucked inside the folded bit of lace was a note scribbled on a yellow post it. “Wear these for me today.”
I smiled. Of course, Mr. Grant.
It was dark, and the offices were empty except for us. I stood outside his heavy wooden door and slipped the panties down over my hips, gathering up the scrap of fabric that was wet with both of our juices. I pushed open the door. “I finished that project you asked for, Mr. Grant,” I said, and tossed the thong to him.
“I always said you were my best worker.”
I slammed the door, and Mr. Grant turned on the light.
***
Needless to say, it didn’t take long for the seed that my boss was regularly pumping into me to grow. I wasn’t sure just which one of our public fuckings had gotten me pregnant, but I liked to imagine it was that time in the park.
Time seemed to fly by. Work was busy and Mr. Grant could never keep his hands off me. The more my breasts and belly grew, the hornier he seemed to get. By the time I reached eight months along, he was constantly all over me.
I was set to go in leave in another week, and I knew that Mr. Grant would be missing our daily office pleasure, but I was moving into his mansion so I’d still be very accessible to that delicious dick.
I walked in the door, my pussy already dripping wet in anticipation. Mr. Grant didn’t move to get up, and I knew that meant he probably already had his pants undone and his dick in his hand.
He stood up and proved me right. His cock was already rock hard and ready for me, poking out of the V of his unzipped pants.
“There’s something I’ve been desperate to do to you ever since those delicious breasts of yours started growing,” he purred. “I need you to lay down on my desk and take off all your clothes.”
Being inside Mr. Grant’s cavernous office always made me feel incredibly exposed, and I never stopped loving it. His desk was close to the glass wall that faced the luxury apartments across the narrow street, and I knew from our first dalliance that anyone with decent eyesight had a perfect view into the office.
Standing right in front of the window, I stripped off my clothes, baring my large breasts and swollen belly as my eyes scanned the windows, checking if anyone was watching.
Someone was.
One floor above us, a good looking blond man was staring right at us.
“Someone’s watching,” I said as Mr. Grant gently helped me up onto his desk, my huge belly rising up as I laid down.
“Let’s give him a show then,” he answered, pushing his pants down to his knees and stepping forward to straddle where my head hung off the edge of the desk. I lifted my head up enough to trace my tongue down the seam of his balls where the dangled above my face. Mr. Grant groaned loudly before saying, "None of that."
He took one of my hands in his and pressed it to the side of my breast before following with the other hand. “Press them together. I’m going to fuck those glorious tits of yours.”
I couldn’t watch the show, but somehow the idea of being used for Mr. Grant’s pleasure while on display for a total stranger turned me on even more. I felt his cock slide in between my sensitive breasts, and Mr. Grant moaned loudly.
“It feels amazing, Gloria, so soft and pillowy. I’ll miss these when you’re not pregnant anymore.”
“You’ll just have to get me pregnant again then,” I said, shivering as his fingers found my nipples. They were intensely sensitive and the strangest sensation came over me as he pinched and squeezed them.
“Oh yes,” Mr. Grant growled, and I became aware of the wetness dripping from both of my nipples. “Your milk is dripping down your breasts, all over my cock. Fuck, I’m not going to last much longer.” His hands kept massaging my breasts and nipples, keeping the pressure strong enough that my milk kept flowing. A few thrusts later I heard Mr. Grant bite back a loud “FUCK!” and the first hot splash of come made a stripe across the milky mess on my stomach.
A moment later, Mr. Grant was helping me sit up, sliding me to the edge of the desk. Between my legs, my pussy was dripping wet and aching for pleasure. “Look out the window, Gloria.”
Across the street, the man in the apartment had his pants around his waist and his cock in his hand. Smiling in pleasure at being watched with desire even when I was as big as a house, I spread my legs wide as Mr. Grant’s fingers found my slippery clit. My chest was sticky with milk and come, and the entire situation had me so turned on that I was already close to coming.
Two of Mr. Grant’s fingers pressed inside me, stretching my slick walls while his thumb kept rubbing my clit. Across the street, the man in the other apartment’s hips bucked forward as he came. A bit of his come even landed on the glass, leaving a sticky streak that reminded me of playing the same game with Mr. Grant.
The visual and sensory overload was too much for me to hold back any longer and I came with a gasp, shivering and shaking in bliss as I came so hard I nearly blacked out.
When I came back to myself a few minutes later, Mr. Grant was cleaning off my breasts and stomach gently with a wet wipe. His eyes raked over my body hungrily before shaking his head and handing me my dress as he helped me down off the desk.
“I could stay in here and fuck you all day, but I have a meeting to run in half an hour.” He kissed me sweetly before walking me to the door. “See you at home.”
“Oh and, Gloria?” he added. “Make sure you leave the curtains open tonight.”
