by Vallen Green
Saab must be so tired, Vicky thought, looking at the child tenderly. She loved Saab, greatly enjoyed her company. But with the child asleep, what on earth was she going to do the rest of the afternoon? She glanced at her wristwatch and gave a low whistle. She still had three more hours to go before Mr. Russell got home. She thought for a bit and decided to while the hours away by going online. The Russells had a desktop computer in their living room, and the Russells had given her permission to use it whenever she wished.
After making sure Saab was sound asleep and comfortable, Vicky went back down the stairs quietly and headed to the desktop computer. She thought briefly of watching some TV instead then dismissed the thought when she realized her favorite show wasn’t going to be on until about two hours later. Well, the online world it was, she decided. Besides, there were some new videos she wanted to check out on YouTube. She plugged the computer in and turned the volume down a bit as she waited for the machine to come to life. She had forgotten to bring her headphones. The Russells had a wicked speaker, but she didn’t want to wake Sabrina up from all her online racket.
The desktop came to life. Vicky glanced up, and that was when she saw the image on the screen.
She was so surprised that she froze for about a few seconds. She didn’t do anything at all. Her heart beat faster, and her hands grew clammy. She blinked and swallowed the lump of unease that was starting to grow in her throat. No such luck. The image on the screen remained the same, and so she blinked again. The image didn’t change an inch. In fact, it seemed to stare back at her with a sense of quiet defiance, as if asking her how dare she doubt the reality of what she was seeing before her eyes.
What stupefied Vicky was the wallpaper on the Russell’s desktop computer. The picture was that of Mr. and Mrs. Russell. They were in a room that Vicky suspected was in their very house, but the room was too bare and nondescript for her to point out which exact room it was. There was a desk in the room, though. Mr. Russell was seated on the desk.
He was as naked as the day he was born.
Mr. Russell had his hands planted on the desk for support. His legs, on the other hand, were spread far apart. Vicky took in the man’s muscular frame, his creamy skin made even brighter by the sheer film of sweat that covered every inch of his body. She couldn’t see his face. He had his face down as he was looking down at something. Of course he was. He had to.
Mrs. Russell was right between Mr. Russell’s spread-apart legs. She was bent over, and her legs were spread wide too. Vicky could see Mrs. Russell’s bare bottom. For a woman as petite as she was, her behind appeared quite large. Vicky looked closely and could almost see the swollen pink flesh that was Mrs. Russell’s cunt, but she wasn’t very sure. What she was sure of, however, was the sight of Mrs. Russell’s fingers on the spot right where her vagina and anus met. Apparently, Mrs. Russell was playing with herself using one hand. The other was wrapped around the bottom part of her husband’s erect penis, which Vicky couldn’t clearly see since its top half was also covered by Mrs. Russell’s mouth.
Vicky was seeing an image of Mrs. Russell give her husband, Mr. Russell, some head.
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the picture. The subject was quite scandalous, but the photo was taken tastefully. Husband and wife were caught in perfect form. They were both slick with sweat, and their bodies portrayed they were completely caught up in the throes of their passion. She stared at Mrs. Russell’s behind again. How clear and smooth, and how pale! She suddenly wanted to run her hands all over that juicy bottom. She had the urge to know how it felt like under her hands, how the smooth skin felt as she ran her palms all over that round behind, how it would feel to bring her palm smartly down that ass and hear the smack! that came after each slap, the sound of which was sure to satisfy her.
But she couldn’t do that, of course. What she was seeing was a still photo, and she couldn’t just go up to Mrs. Russell and ask her if she, Vicky, could see and touch her bare bottom, could she? Vicky’s eyes flicked to the Mrs. Russell’s round ass again. The longing inside her raged uncontrollably now. She began to shake. She realized she had to do something about her sudden bout of fleshly longing for her female employer before she totally lost it. She glanced upstairs and listened for a moment. Everything was quiet upstairs, which was how she wanted it to be. The silence meant Sabrina was fast asleep. Perfect. Vicky could get to her business without anybody accidentally walking into her as she immersed herself into it.
Vicky slid her red cardigan down her shoulders, revealing the thin-strapped cotton dress she wore underneath it. She threw the cardigan down the floor then reached out behind her to unzip her dress. When that bit was done, she stood up and stepped out of her dress. She was now in her underwear, a dark-blue lacy set she had gotten for herself a few months back. She bit her lip. She was feeling hot and racy now. She stared at the wallpaper again for a couple of seconds. Now she could see the swelling underside of Mrs. Russell’s right breast, which was partially concealed by her right arm. Vicky’s eyes traced the length of Mrs. Russell’s right arm up until her hand, which was clamped over her husband’s seemingly humongous dick. Vicky leaned closer for a quick inspection. The photo didn’t give a crystal-clear detail, but she was almost 100 percent sure Mr. Russell was gifted with some huge equipment.
No wonder Mrs. Russell is all over him, Vicky thought. Well, I would be too if I were in her shoes.
Her flesh called out again, and Vicky responded right away. She slid the straps of her bra down her arms. Her breasts, eager for release from the stifling confines of her undergarments, sprang free. Her nipples got a whiff of the cold bracing air and all at once began to stand in attention. She looked down and gave one of her nipples a quick pinch. This led to an electrical sensation that ran down her arm and all over her body, seeming to linger at the area of her crotch where something appeared to gush out. She tweaked her nipple again. The electrical sensation was unmistakable this time, and she couldn’t help but moan. She bit her lip again and looked up. No signs of moving life upstairs. She figured she didn’t have much time to play around. If she wanted to do this, she better do it fast.
She threw her bra on the floor. She was only in her panties now. Vicky started to slide her panties off her hips then stopped. Why? There was something incredibly sexy about playing with herself with her panties on, Vicky realized. There was a sense of urgency, some wild animalistic desire that screamed “I gotta have you now! No time to take your panties off!” She shrugged. Why take off something that added to the excitement?
She was all set now. She looked at the picture again for inspiration and nodded. She sat back on the office chair in front of the desktop computer. She lifted her legs and placed them beside the desktop, one leg at each side. She moved back a couple of inches so that her legs were spread really wide. She looked down. Her panties were sticking into her crotch, and there was a dark spot right in the middle of her crotch. Vicky liked what she saw. It made her feel sexy. It made her feel wanted. She glanced at the desktop wallpaper again. It made her feel like she was part of Mr. and Mrs. Russell’s intimate moment.
She leaned back against the office chair and slipped her hand beneath her panties, right into her crotch. As her fingers made contact with her pussy, she realized she was already very wet. Perfect. With her eyes fixed on the computer screen, she began to move her fingers. They weren’t inside her yet. Her fingers were simply touching, wandering, and exploring. Her eyes flew to Mr. Russell’s hands, which were planted firmly on the tabletop.
Vicky pictured out it was those hands that were squirming into the space between her panties and crotch. Those strong powerful-looking hands that groped at her wet flesh greedily and hungrily. Her nipples perked up at this thought, and she ran her other hand over them to make them feel they weren’t neglected. She bit her lip and leaned back some more on the office chair. She was completely turned on now. Her breath began to come in short spurts. She was breathing, almost panting, in harsh shallow brea
ths. Her panting sounds echoed all around the living room. She was alone, but her soft cries didn’t sound lonely.
As she slid one of her fingers inside her soft and moist slit, she shut her eyes. She was into the moment now. Nothing could stop her. Her finger probed and explored every wet inch of her pussy. Vicky was so wet now she could hardly feel her finger moving inside her. She pushed it in even deeper. It hurt a bit, and she cried out loud. The pain went away almost immediately, though, and she resumed her poking and probing. Her slits were dripping with thick fluid now, but she had no intention of stopping. She went on poking and probing and running her flat palm all over her breasts. Her hips seemed to have a life of their own as they started to raise themselves up and move in time with the poking and probing of her finger. Soon her finger was sliding in and out of her. With each thrust her hips rose and fell. In no time, her movements became smooth and she couldn’t help but cry out some more in between thrusts. She was delirious with ecstasy. It was almost like she was fucking someone.
I’m fucking Mr. Russell, Vicky thought. The idea excited her, and she moved her finger and hips faster. She inserted another finger inside her pussy, adding to the mounting pressure she was feeling down there. Two fingers inside her still didn’t feel right, so she slid another finger in. Now she was satisfied. She felt full and stretched, which was how she liked it. With her other hand, she spread her cunt wide open so as to accommodate all the fingers that were inside her. There was also something about having to “force” herself open that made her feel giddy with delight and lust. She resumed her thrusting and humping. Boy, did three fingers ever feel better than one!
Vicky was so absorbed into the moment that she didn’t feel the hands clamping down on her breasts right away. In fact, the second the hands fondled her breasts, she moaned out loud and arched her back so as to give the hands more access to her breast meat. The hands responded by squeezing and pulling at her tits hard, almost to the point of pain, but Vicky didn’t mind. Her sexual experience may be far and few, but when she had them, she almost always went down the rough and wild route.
It was only a few minutes later when she realized she was no longer alone. The hands digging into her breasts couldn’t be hers, as hers were too busy playing with her most private spot down there.
Her lusty mood snapped, and she opened her eyes in surprise. Her hands were still buried beneath her panties and into her crotch, so she was beyond horrified when she looked up and found herself looking right into Mr. Russell’s clear blue eyes.
Vicky was stunned. She was so horrified she was unable to do anything for a few seconds but stare up and back at those baby blues. Her mouth opened and closed, like that of a fish out of the water and struggling to catch its breath. Her heart pounded rapidly in her chest, and her hands—which have been squirming frantically beneath her panties for several minutes now—became still. She wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole. She couldn’t believe her employer had caught her playing with herself. Then she thought of the wallpaper on the desktop computer, and she gasped. Mr. Russell might think she had been snooping around!
The shock wore off, and she opened her mouth to speak. But Mr. Russell got to her first and placed a finger over her lips, shutting her up.
“Ssshh,” Mr. Russell said softly. The finger over Vicky’s lips went down her chin, where it travelled down her neck and over her breasts. Vicky’s breath hitched, and she took another deep breath. She found she could speak this time.
“Mr. Russell, this isn’t what you think it is,” she began. But Mr. Russell’s finger found its way over her lips again, and she had to quit speaking.
“I know, Vicky,” Mr. Russell said quietly. “I’ve always known you were a silent little slut. Isn’t that what you are, a slut?” He gave her nipple a hard pinch, and she gasped.
“Yes, Mr. Russell, I am a slut,” Vicky answered, moaning once more as Mr. Russell gave her another hard tweak on the nipple. He was hurting her, but she didn’t want to let him on that she was in pain. Besides, there was something about the nipple pinching that excited her. There was pain, yes, but there was also a kind of sexual excitement that came with each hard pinch.
Mr. Russell went around the office chair so that he was now facing Vicky. He had to duck under her legs as these were still planted on the table, beside each end of the computer. Now he was in front of Vicky and on his knees. She stared at her boss, so huge and towering yet so vulnerable as he knelt between her legs—and her pussy, which still had her hands trapped in them.
He gently removed her hands from beneath her panties, and Vicky let him. He grabbed her wrists gently and brought her hands close to his nose. He sniffed at the fluid-encrusted digits. He inhaled deeply. Then, to Vicky’s surprise, he took her hands in his mouth and began to suck on them.
She was stunned at this sudden display of sexual affection. She had expected Mr. Russell to give her a lecture she would never forget and then fire her after he had given her his piece. She had never expected him to take her come-covered hands into his mouth and suck on them like his life depended on it. She had never had her hands and fingers sucked on. The sensation was foreign to Vicky, but it brought her arousal back to life. She welcomed it. She let her arousal take over, and when she couldn’t take the sensations that were running up and down her spine any longer, she gave in and let the cries and moans escape her lips.
“Don’t stop, Mr. Russell,” she moaned out loud. “Please, please don’t stop.”
“I see you’ve been snooping around, Vicky,” Mr. Russell murmured as he licked the juice off her index finger.
“No, it was an accident,” Vicky whimpered.
“It doesn’t matter,” Mr. Russell said. He abruptly stopped licking her finger and quickly let go of her wrists, dropping them into her lap. Now he stared straight at Vicky, her clear blue eyes piercing Vicky’s dark ones. He licked his lips as he looked at her, making her feel slightly uncomfortable for a while but not for long. He placed his hands on top of her legs and pushed them farther apart. Vicky’s legs only had so much room to move, but she let him move them nevertheless. Her arousal was back in full force now. She was so consumed by lust for this man, for her employer. Her long-hidden feelings of desire for Mr. Russell all woke up at once, consuming her flesh and eating away at her every thought. She had to have this man. She no longer cared of the consequences, whatever they were, but she had to have this man.
Mr. Russell echoed the thoughts that had been running around Vicky’s head. He looked down at her panties, so drenched with her juices. He bent down and kissed the large dark spot on the crotch of her panties. She shivered in delight. He bit on the waistband of her panties and brought them down her hips gently, removing them out of the way so that her bare pussy was completely clear for him to do whatever he wanted to do to it.
Vicky moaned. Her desire, her lust was spiraling out of control now. Her hips bucked, and she raised them, bringing them closer to his face. He moved away slightly, teasing her then his face grew serious once again. His hands found her hips, and he pushed them back down into the office chair. She writhed, shaking from side to side, wanting to break free from his hold so she could bring herself closer to him once again.
“Stay put!” Mr. Russell barked harshly. Vicky had no choice but to obey his brisk command. Whimpering, she sat where she was, no longer attempting to do anything.
“Mr. Russell, please,” she whispered. “I . . . I can’t take it anymore. I want you inside me now.”
Mr. Russell answered by lowering his head flicking his tongue at the wet mound of Vicky’s most private organ. His tongue burned Vicky. She gave several soft moans, and against her will, her hips moved again. She looked down at her boss just in time to see him spread her lips apart and plunge his tongue inside her slippery crack. The sight and the sensation set off her libido even more, and she had to bite her lip so as not to cry out loud. Heavens knew how much she wanted to scream out loud and kick at everything in sight, anything t
o get the growing burning desire off her. She did cry out loud when his tongue probed deep into her. However, he withdrew his tongue from inside her. He looked up at her again, running his tongue over his lips.
“You taste just as good as I thought you would,” Mr. Russell said softly. “My, my. We should’ve done this sooner, Vicky, don’t you think?” He reached out and caressed her cheek with one hand.
Vicky could only nod in reply. She was so full now; she felt she was about to burst from all the pleasure that was now shooting up from every inch of her. Her pussy was now about to explode. She knew she was going to come right now, with or without Mr. Russell’s tongue—or his dick, as she had hoped at first.
Mr. Russell went right back to doing his business. His lips clamped over her pussy this time, sucking on the delicate flesh that was becoming increasingly moist with what his mouth was doing. At the same time, with his mouth over her pussy, he inserted a finger into her crack, adding to the intense sensations. Vicky was beyond herself now. She grabbed at Mr. Russell’s hair and pulled hard. She was going crazy, and she needed something to hold on to lest she fall off the chair and start doing crazy things on the floor. Mr. Russell groaned harshly in response to her hair tugging. He thrust his tongue and finger deeper into Vicky.