The Last To Know - What I Did Before We Dated

by Bridy McAvoy

  He shrugged. “Wear a thicker blouse then.”

  * * * *

  By the time the next Thursday had rolled around, I did indeed wear the thicker blouse. It was now early September, and just about cool enough so I didn’t have to worry quite so much about sweating. At two o’clock he came out and locked up rather than letting me do it. I rose to my feet, expecting him to make me undress just as before in the middle of the foyer but, yet again, he surprised me.

  “Today, baby, we’re going to play a little game.”

  I really didn’t like the sound of that. “Oh?”

  “Yeah. A little game of hide and seek.”

  This didn’t sound good.

  “I’m going to count to fifty while you go and hide. The washroom, cupboards and my office are out of bounds. When I find you, I’m going to remove an item of your clothing, right there. Then we’ll play again. When you’re naked, I’m going to teach you a new trick.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t you want to know what that new trick is?”

  “No, not really.”

  He laughed. “That would spoil the surprise if I told you then, wouldn’t it?”

  I pouted at him. If anything he seemed almost childish in his zeal to play this strange game. It was obvious that the only thing I could do was run and hide down a particular stack—there was nowhere else. He’d ruled all the obvious, better, places out.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t look while I’m counting. I will, of course, look my fill every time I find you.”

  Another thought struck me. He’d said he was going to be removing my clothes, not watching me do it. This week he was going to be looking with his fingers and not just his eyes. After last week, he was pushing me harder than ever. The problem for me was the way I’d reacted once I’d got home last week. I’d gone straight upstairs, and once again masturbated. Not once, but twice, then showered, put my robe on, ate dinner, and then spent the evening on the couch, sans clothes while I masturbated again. I had literally spent the evening with my fingers buried in my pussy. At three o’clock in the morning I’d had to change the bedding and take another shower in an effort to force myself to sleep. Even so the room stunk of sex the following morning—my sex.

  His silly game was quite predictable. With no other options, as he covered his eyes and started counting, I fled down to the far end of the library, acutely aware of how my heels clicking on the floor were giving me away. At the bottom I dashed to the right into the non-fiction section then tried to tip-toe quietly down the side aisle back toward him. I heard him call out ‘fifty’ and ‘ready or not’, then laugh to himself. It was so silly, stupid even, but my heart was pounding in my chest. I stood there for a minute peering round the end of one row, watching the central aisle, ready to duck back behind the solid wood end of the shelves when I saw him.

  A moment later I felt his hand touch my shoulder. I jumped, almost squealed, as he laughed. He’d guessed my plan, and crept up the side aisle behind me on silent feet.

  “Gotcha!”

  “You made me jump, you b—” I swallowed the insult, knowing that might be a bad idea.

  “Now, which item of clothing do you think I should remove? Your blouse, perhaps?”

  I nodded. That seemed like the best idea, or at least the least damaging one.

  He shook his head. “Nope, I think I’ll collect another prize. Time to lose your panties, baby. Time for me to collect the first trophy.”

  “Not fair.”

  “Very fair, baby, very fair.”

  Before I could say anything else he spun me round to face him, and pushed my shoulders back against the end of the shelves. He grabbed my right hand and lifted it above my head, folding my fingers around the edge of the wood, my fingertips touching the spine of a book. “Keep your hand there.” Then he did the same with my left hand on the other side, with the same admonishment. Finally, he pulled my hips forward a little so only my shoulders were touching the partition. Obviously this gave him free access to my lower body. I suppressed a shudder, aware of just how vulnerable I was in this position, how powerless I was to stop him doing exactly what he said—removing my panties, and maybe doing other things too. The second shudder was one I couldn’t suppress.

  He just laughed again. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

  I closed my eyes, unable to watch as my boss took advantage of me this way. He seemed to have gone totally Jekyll and Hyde on me. Most of the time he was the nice guy—nothing was too much trouble in terms of work and support—then for two hours on a Thursday afternoon, he became an animal. These two hours were, in fact, the two hours I was starting by him removing my panties. Obviously he was getting his sexual jollies from what he was doing. I even guessed he was wanking at home over what he was seeing, and what he was doing. My problem was, so was I. I couldn’t help myself when I got home.

  After a moment I realized he’d bent down and I felt his fingers touching my legs, just below the hem of my skirt. It was the first time he’d touched me there— really the first time he’d done anything other than grab my hand and wrap it round his prick. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his fingers started to slide up, my skirt rising with it. He wasn’t just going to take my panties off, he was going to pull my skirt up at the same time. He’d be removing my underwear only inches in front of his face. My legs were trembling and I heard him laugh to himself—I guessed right about that. My face felt hot, my skirt starting to catch on my butt as he pushed it higher. Then, I felt the soft puff as he breathed on the front of my panties.

  “Shit!”

  “Getting you hot, baby?”

  “No.”

  “Liar! I can smell you from here. It’s delicious.”

  He was crude, downright rude, but I didn’t stop him. Didn’t push him away and bolt for the door. I could have—I knew he wouldn’t stop me—but I liked my job. No, I loved my job, four and a half days a week. I couldn’t justify what I was letting him do to me, but I couldn’t walk away. Least of all, I couldn’t make a scene and cause a scandal. I was caught in a trap of his fashioning, and it felt like I didn’t want to escape from it.

  His fingers had hooked into the side bands of my panties, my black panties, which were about to slide down, revealing my newly shaved pussy, and my neatly barbered landing strip. He was teasing, inching them down a fraction at a time, and then pausing. My fingers curled around the wooden partition, exactly where he’d told me to hold on. I didn’t move, other than involuntarily as my hips swayed from side to side as he slipped my underwear off. I knew he could see my little strip of hair now, recognizing his sharp intake of breath that said it was in view. He moved faster, eager to see what he was exposing. A moment later my panties were on my thighs and sliding down. I shuddered again as he exhaled, his breath drifting across my outer lips, cooling the moisture that had gathered there.

  “I was right. You are hot for it, aren’t you, Samantha?”

  “No!”

  “Are you on the pill?”

  “What?” There was only one reason he’d be asking that question. “No, no, I’m not.”

  “Pity, get yourself a prescription for it this week, and start taking them.”

  He wasn’t going to stop at looking, stop at touching. He intended to fuck me, and probably soon. Could I, would I let him? I shuddered, kept shivering as he placed both hands on my hips, leaned in close and blew on my pussy. The smell of my arousal drifted up—even I could smell myself now. Down there it must have been overpowering to him.

  He took his time lowering my panties all the way to my feet, then tapping each ankle to make me lift each foot in turn to step out of them.

  He stood up as I looked at him. “You’ve been good, standing still there, like I told you to. I like it when you’re a good, obedient girl.” He raised an eyebrow. I knew I had to answer.

  “Thank you, Mister Bryant.”

  “Good girl. Now I’m going to give you a choice.”

  “Oh?”

  “Y
es, two options. Continue to play hide and seek with me, and each time I catch you, you lose an item of clothing. Or let me strip you, right here, right now. Your choice. Are you eager to get naked, or do you want to prolong the tease by playing my silly game?”

  “It’s not silly.” I was buying time—I knew it was silly just as much as he did.

  “Yes it is.”

  His hand dipped between my legs. I felt his finger trace the line of my slit. I gasped then closed my eyes tight, unable to look at him as he toyed with me in a way I found both unimaginable and, at the same time, unbearably pleasurable.

  “Look at me, Samantha. Are you eager?”

  “No.”

  He pressed his finger against me. The increase of pressure pushed it between my outer lips. “Liar.”

  I shook my head, trying to stop the guttural moan rising in my throat from bursting out. I was lost if he heard that kind of reaction—I knew that much at least. Everything else seemed hazed by a fog of lust-shrouded phantasms flashing across the inside of my eyelids.

  “Open your eyes, Samantha, and get ready to run. You elected to play on, so I’m going to count to fifty while you go and hide, take the chance to delay the inevitable. Are you ready?”

  I nodded.

  “Good girl. Right, one…fifty. Caught you.”

  “What?”

  He hadn’t even given me time to let go of the partition behind me, let alone get a head start—and then he’d counted me out.

  “You cheated!”

  “So? I got the impression you thought the game was silly?” He grinned at me. “Now, keep still, I think it’s time you lost this skirt. It’s not exactly doing much to cover your modesty at the moment, is it?”

  Today I’d chosen a different style of skirt. As a rule, I didn’t wear denim to the library. Today, I had, a mini-skirt, but not overly short. It was fastened by four large white buttons in a line down the front. I thought it looked quite smart and Mr. Bryant hadn’t objected to it in any way. It was tight too—I knew it framed my ass well. Not for much longer though, as he roughly pulled it down giving my pussy some temporary cover, before he attacked the buttons. When he’d pulled my underwear down he’d teased me by taking it slowly. Not this time. He pushed the buttons through their respective holes with a fervent zeal, one that told me he was in a hurry to get me naked. Seconds later the skirt hit the floor, revealing my pussy to him once more.

  He crouched down, gazing at it, then trailed his finger up the length of my slit again. “You have a pretty little cunt, Samantha. Very pretty.”

  I blushed bright red, I couldn’t help it. I never liked the use of that word when at school, and I didn’t like it now, especially inside the near-hallowed ground of a library. That was how I’d come to see my job, the other four and a half days a week.

  He stood in front of me and showed me the finger he’d just touched me with—it was glistening and I knew it was my juices. I watched, fascinated as he slowly opened his mouth and pushed his finger in, sucking my juices. I’d obviously never seen someone taste me like that, and the look on his face told me he’d enjoyed it. I shuddered, but kept my wide eyes on him, watching every second, fascinated.

  “Nobody ever tasted you before today?”

  I shook my head.

  “You really are an innocent, a complete virgin, aren’t you?”

  The instant blush that heated my face would have given the lie to any other answer, and he would soon encounter the very real physical evidence—the first time he fucked me. Given his comment about birth control, I knew I wasn’t going to be fucked today, but it loomed large in my near future.

  “Time to continue our little game, Sammie.”

  I stiffened. It was the first time he’d used a diminutive form of my name. If anything it made me feel even more helpless, and I could see him watching me carefully, gauging my reaction.

  “Run away, little rabbit, run away. Fifty. Caught you!” He laughed and I stayed right where I was as his hands rose to my throat to undo the top button on my blouse.

  Five minutes later I was naked, still holding onto the end partition. He’d allowed me to drop my arms to shuck off the blouse, but then put them straight back. I’d been allowed to straighten up, too, pressing my butt back against the smooth wood in order to uncramp my back and straighten my legs, which he’d now made me spread over a foot apart.

  His hand dipped between my legs, rising to cup my sex. He was still dressed, hadn’t even taken his tie off. In fact, I’d only ever seen him with his fly open—the rest of the time his clothing was immaculate, unlike mine, which was strewn all over the floor. I knew this was my fate for every Thursday afternoon from now on, naked, and then touched.

  His touch—it was incredible. I’d been using my own fingers, even putting them up into me, but when he did it, it felt completely different. It was completely different. I had no control over it at all. All I could do was buck my hips against his hand and moan as his hand moved over my mound—now stroking me, now inserting a finger into me, now playing with my clit. I screamed as the orgasm washed over me. My legs buckled, but my hands, still holding onto the wooden shelves behind me, stopped me from collapsing.

  “Enjoy that, did we, Sammie?”

  I didn’t answer, couldn’t find my voice, as I tried to control myself as I came down from the high.

  “Answer me.”

  “Yes…yes, Mister Bryant.”

  “Good. Go to my office.”

  I lowered my arms and looked at him, confused by his instructions.

  “Go to my office, there’s a carpet on the floor. It’ll stop your knees getting sore.”

  “My knees?” Actually, I knew what he meant. I’d seen enough stuff on the internet, heard about it from girls at school, to work out I was about to lose my oral virginity to him. Once again, I could have run for the door, burst out into the street, screaming, the scandal bringing him down, even if it didn’t go to court. But, yet again, I didn’t—couldn’t bring myself to do it. He stepped back to give me room and I brought my feet together and started to walk away. My legs were still shaky and my breathing was still erratic, but I headed back up the library toward the central island where my work-station was. Beyond that was the short corridor that led past his office. My sex was still pulsing lightly form the orgasm he’d given me, but I forced myself not to look back. I knew he was following me, but I couldn’t look at him. After a few steps I felt his hand touch my butt. Gently, not grabbing it, just running his fingers across the smooth surface. Fondling it, I suppose, enjoying it. It wasn’t unpleasant for me so I made no comment.

  I walked past my desk with my head held high, and a few steps later turned into his office with his hand still on my ass. He didn’t bother to close the door, just gently steered me to the middle of the room.

  “Turn around and face me, Sammie.”

  I couldn’t look him in the eyes, given I knew what he wanted me to do, so turned my glance down. Surprise, surprise, his cock was hanging out of the front of his trousers. I stared at it, seeing how large it was, how the tip glistened with what I knew was pre-cum. I tried not to shudder as I wondered what it would taste like. His hands rose to my shoulders and exerted a gentle downward pressure. Without a word I bent my legs, and allowed him to push me to my knees in front of him. It must have been a sight, if there’d been someone to see. Me, nineteen, naked except for garters, stockings and heels, my own juices running onto my thighs from my recent cum, kneeling in front of a man older than my father, his erect cock dangling in front of my face.

  “You know why you’re here, Samantha. Open your mouth, and take the tip into it.”

  I shook my head, keeping my lips pressed firmly together.

  “What’s the problem, Samantha, baby?”

  “I…I…”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ve never done this.”

  “What, you’ve never given a guy a blow-job? A beautiful girl like you?”

  I weakly shook my head. />
  “Well, I’d guessed you had a virgin pussy, and probably a virgin ass too. But not a virgin mouth. Triple whammy for me. I’ll take it easy on you, today, just open your mouth.”

  He seemed genuinely surprised. I, on the other hand, was mortified by my confession. I hadn’t dated a lot in school—my father’s curfew restrictions had lasted throughout high school. So most dates didn’t have time for more than a quick kiss, and I’d never felt interested enough in my dates to let them touch me. I gained a reputation as an ice queen and, as a result, nobody even asked me to be their date for the senior prom. I’d been heartbroken, so my mom had whisked me off to a spa for the weekend instead. Dad, of course, didn’t come. I guess he had a ball too—at his condo.

  I looked up at him, my cheeks burning with embarrassment, and he cupped one hand under my chin.

  “That’s right, baby, just look up at me. Keep looking up, just open your mouth.”

  I still didn’t open up.

  He sighed. “Baby, either you open your mouth or I’ll pinch your nose to make you open it to breathe, understood? I’d rather not do it that way. Think about it. You’ve had your fun, now I’m going to have mine.”

  My mind was moving at a hundred miles an hour. I’d worked out what he meant—he wanted his orgasm and, by all the obvious signs, he was planning to cum in my mouth. That thought disgusted me, revolted me, but I didn’t resist—just did as he said. After a few more seconds I opened my mouth for him.

  He smiled, and moved his hips forward, his hand holding my head still as he pushed his cock toward my lips. “That’s a good girl, Sammie, a very good girl. Now keep your teeth to yourself, no biting.”

  His prick touched my lips, and I tried hard not to shudder. Instead, I opened my mouth wider, my gaze catching his, staring at each other as he pushed the first inch of his cock into my mouth. It felt huge. I now know he wasn’t big, just average, but it felt huge, and hot. The tip touched my tongue and a drop of pre-cum dissipated across it. Unconsciously I swallowed, triggering my taste buds to sense the fluid. He chuckled above me, I could see he was amused—enjoying my reactions as much as he was enjoying the sensations.