The Caffieri.com blog has just passed 600,000 naughty reads for the month of December.
You can read my scandalous stories at the link below.
But just to whet your whistle...here's sample tale.
Welcome to the
Working Wank
I don’t really
know how I got into the habit. Well, yes
I do. One typically tedious day at the
office, I was looking something interesting up on the computer so I didn’t
shoot myself out of boredom. I don’t
remember what it was now but one of the Google items listed on the first page
was a story about a woman who had sex with her son. What made me read it, I couldn’t tell you…but
I did. The more I read, the hotter I
got. I mean this story was seriously
smokin’. It was lunchtime and my boss was out, so eventually I just lifted up
my skirt and had a damn fine wank. Right
there in my drab, de-humanizing cubicle.
It was certainly a hell of a lot more enjoyable than the sandwich I’d
just eaten, I can tell you.
The next day, I found
another naughty little tale online and had two damn fine wanks. Soon, this sordid but oh-so-scrummy behavior
became just another part of my work routine.
Those delicious moments of self-plundering gave me something to look
forward to during the long mornings of pointless typing and other bullshit
duties. I would peer up at that clock
and ready my fingers for 12:30 when Mr. Mudrick left for his quick bite at the
club.
This racy ritual
went on unabated until…
It was a Tuesday
and my lunchtime reading was a sizzling little saga concerning a housewife who
goes to the grocery store and gets doggy-styled in the parking lot by a dusky stranger. He had just pressed her up against the cold
hard steel of an SUV and her rock hard nipples were squashed flat against the
tinted glass. Oooh, yum. By this point in the story, I had my skirt up
around my stomach and my underwear keeping my knees company. It’s imperative that you time these things just
right. The trick is to increase the
intensity and speed of your nether regional activities in sync with what’s
going on in the narrative. By the point
you get into the heart of the big sex scene, you need to be whapping your woman
wart to beat the band. I was giving my
vulva and clitoris a major kicking by the time I reached the penultimate
paragraph. My breathing was rushed, my
face was redder than a Prince Edward
Island potato and my sopping snatch had swollen up to
the size of a Bundt cake.
And that’s when my
boss popped his head around my cubical opening (No, that is not a naughty
euphemism.). I screamed and practically
projectile plotzed from shock.
When he realized
what was taking up so much of my concentration, his face went arctic bunny white. I yanked down my skirt but there was no
pulling up my panties without even more embarrassment so I just let them slide
down to my ankles, out of site.
“Ms. Taylor,” he
finally blurted out, “I’d like to see you in my office, when
it’s…ah…convenient.” And he rushed
off.
I was paralyzed
with mortification. What had I
done? What was I thinking? I needed this job. What was I going to tell my husband? “Sorry dear, I got fired because I was too in
love with my own cunt to leave in alone during working hours.”
I took a few
moments to compose myself (and pull up my underwear) but finally, I managed to
rise to my feet and bravely head off to face my sure economic doom. He could have my job but dammit, he couldn’t
have my dignity. When I got to his office, I immediately burst into tears.
“I’m so sorry, Mr.
Mudrick. I’ve only ever done that unspeakable
act the once and I realize now that it was completely inexcusable and if you
don’t fire me, I will work every weekend for free until I die.”
Mudrick put up his
hand to halt my disgraceful and dishonest performance. “Please Joan; I’m not going to fire you.”
Now, I was totally
disoriented.
“I fully realize
that your lunch period is your own and you should be able to do as you wish,
but this is an office.”
“Yes, I know that
sir, Mr. Mudrick sir, and I am so, so…’
Again, my boss put
up his hand to stop my whiny blathering.
“All I wanted to say was, we have clients that could walk in on you as I
did and…”
“I know that
sir. And believe me; I will gladly cut off
both these hands before I ever use them to…”
Again he stopped
me in my apologetical tracks.
“So, if you feel
like…pleasuring yourself, please come into my office and do it here. You can close the door and have all the
privacy you require.”
I must have looked
a little taken aback.
“Masturbation is nothing
to be embarrassed about, Joan. We all do
it. Hey, if I had a nickel for every
time I’ve squeezed one out, I’d be retired on a beach in the Riviera by now.”
I was a little
shocked at his “frank” talk, but I was really touched by his kind and gentle
manner. “Thank you sir.” I actually curtseyed like some dim-witted
maid. This was really turning out to be
a banner day for yours truly.
I spent the rest
of the afternoon trying to wipe the blush off my face. When I got home that night, I told hubby that
I really didn’t feel like it. I gave him
a little handjob as a consolation prize and he was more than
understanding. Funny thing though, while
I was stroking his penis up and down, all I could think about was Mr. Mudrick
doing the very same thing to his own man handle. That’s when I changed my mind and let Johnny
fuck me.
The next day, I
had absolutely no intention of taking my boss up on his amazingly understanding
and generous offer, though I did feel a little plaintive tingle between my legs
as lunchtime reared its naughty head. At
12:25 Muddy popped his head into my cubicle. “I meant what I said. I’ll be gone for at least an hour, if you
feel the need.”
Nothing could have
dragged me into that room at that moment.
I managed to stay un-self-sullied for an entire week. But alas, I started reading this story on the
computer about a guy watching a couple making love and removing the cock from
his trousers and…well you know the rest.
By the time he’d cum into a nearby plant pot, I was hotter than The
Human Torch in a sauna. I tried to
resist. I really did. The next thing I knew I was in Muddy’s office
with my skirt up, my tits out and fingering myself senseless. With an oak door between me and the rest of
the staff, I could moan and sigh at will (Plus, lying on his couch was way more
conducive to a good wank than sitting on an Ikea swivel chair.). I flailed away on my nethers and tortured my
nips for a good 45 minutes. Orgasm
followed orgasm as I unmercifully whacked the crack. It was only after I started to get cramps in
my wrist that I noticed what the time was.
Shit! I jumped up like his couch
had Ebola and pulled up my unmentionables.
Mr. Mudrick’s door handle began to turn and I practically shat an ice
cream truck when he walked into the room.
“Uh, hi,” I
inarticulately stammered. “I just came
in to see if your…and it was…so.”
He smiled warmly
at me and pointed to my chest. I still had
a tit hanging out! Oh inconsolable
shame! I withered out of his office and
went back to my impersonal jail cell. Great!
So now my boss believed (and quite rightly so) that I was incorrigible
wank-addict.
That night I had
sex with Johnny, imagining Mudrick masturbating while he watched us going at
it. Hubby must have thought he was
giving me the hump of a lifetime the way I climaxed. His ears are probably still ringing.
From then on, it
was a downward pearl-polishing spiral. Now,
I longed to get caught by Muddy. I began
to take off all my clothes before I went at it.
I waited longer and longer before starting. Many times, I was still on the couch with my
fingers buried deep inside my pud when he walked into the room. Instead of jumping up and apologizing, I just
kept going like some demented masturbating whore. He would invariably walk over to his desk and
tidy up some papers as I came like a demon from hell. After I’d finished my ludicrous display of
self-induced debauchery, I’d slowly get dressed in front of him, hiding nothing
from his occasional gaze.
This went on for
weeks and weeks and Muddy was an absolute gentleman…damn him! This “please come hither - no I won’t”
stalemate lasted right up until the office Christmas party. Usually, these things were about as much fun
as having a pap smear at a funeral but this year I spent a month’s pay on my
dress and hairdo. I don’t know what I
thought was going to happen but with enough alcohol in me, anything was
possible.
Johnny and I
arrived early and we immediately hit the bar.
By the time my boss glided into the room, my head was having a pleasant
swim around Lake Bacardi
At some point
during the evening, Johnny was off chatting some babe up over a rather rancid Merlot and I was on the hunt for more masculine prey. Muddy was over at the hors d’oeuvres, trying
to find something that didn’t look like vomit on a cracker. I downed the last of my courage and traipsed
over for a refill.
“Hello there,
sir,” I smiled.
“Enjoying the
party, Joan?” he replied, rejecting something that had suspect bits of olive in
it.
“To tell you the
truth, I’d rather be having a good wank in your office.” My, oh my!
Wasn’t I the little inebriated libertine? Luckily, he continued to smile.
“Well, I’m glad that
our arrangement has worked out for you.
We like to keep our workforce happy.”
“I was happy three
times yesterday,” I replied oh-so-brazenly.
“I hope I don’t, you know, embarrass you when I stay and ‘finish up’
after you get back from your lunch.”
“Oh no. In fact I quite look forward to it. Not that I, in any way, mean anything lurid
by that.”
“You’re the least
lurid man I know. Too un-lurid
sometimes.”
He paused for a
moment. Surely even Mudrick could take a
hint that big. I continued to barrel on
like a drunken tart. “Actually, I’ve
been thinking about you touching yourself, like you told me you did all those
times, that day you were so kind to me.”
“Really?”
Was that interest,
I detected?
“You know what I’d
really like for Christmas?”
I think Muddy
sensed that something untoward was about to be proposed. He performed a quick scan around the room for
significant others.
“I’d like you to
follow me into one of the offices, take that big cock out of your pants and
whack on it till you cum all over me.”
Mr. Mudrick
swallowed hard (Just like I wanted to do later!) then shook his head
doubtfully. “I couldn’t. Not with your
husband so close by.”
Three minutes
later we were in a broom closet. I was
on my knees with my top off staring at his crotch. Slowly, he unzipped his pants (His sense of
sexual drama was breathtaking.). I think
I actually licked my lips (For shame foul woman of intemperate
appetites!). Muddy reached into his
underwear and, almost shyly, pulled out his penis. I was very happy to see that it was still somewhat
flaccid. The thought of it growing in
his hand as he stroked it was turning my vagina into an upside down puddle.
He ogled my rosy tits
as he started to massage the head of his member. Bit by bit the shaft swelled and filled up
his fist. I soooo wanted to suck on it
but held back. The visual was
paramount. Finally, he became fully
erect with the bulbous end aimed directly at me.
“It’s beautiful,”
I whispered. “Tomorrow, I want you to
fuck me with it in your office.”
His eyes closed as
a ripple of pleasure shot up his man stem.
I was in absolute heaven as the rhythms of sex started to bewitch him; reducing
him from a human being to a bestial force bent on blind satiation. I poured it on.
“All I can think
about is you stuffing your big boss cock into my simmering wet pussy. Filling me up with your hot, steamy jizz.”
Muddy’s pace
quicken and his head titled back.
“Play with your
balls, baby. Just like I’m going to do tomorrow.”
He did! Mr. Mudrick started to tickle his nutsack
with his left hand while he continued to rev up his schlong with the right. His knees bent a little and his hips were
pushed way forward. A few little moans
escaped him. I knew he was about to
blow. My cunt was practically dripping
by this time. I craved to whap my dewy
mound into chowder but I knew if I made myself cum at that moment I’d scream the
building down, so I refrained.
Muddy’s right hand
was now a blur as he pistoned away. He
was so close. I opened my mouth.
“I want you to cum
on my tongue. Can you do that for me
baby?”
I thought I saw
him nod his head slightly but that might have been caused by his violent
penis-pounding. Suddenly, he let out an
“Ooof” sort of a noise and spurts of his creamy goo began to shoot out of him,
into my mouth…and onto my cheeks and eyebrows and hair and chin. His spew was everywhere. What an orgasm!
Now that the semen
show was over, I gobbled it up and sucked him clean. It was the least I could do. After about five minutes of serious licking
and oral love, I pulled his underwear and slacks back up and made him
presentable again. I didn’t ask him to
kiss me (I know guys are real funny about that, once you’ve swallowed their
load) but did give him a Kleenex and requested he help remove his spunk from my
hairdo.
For a boss, he
really took orders well!
Now, Muddy only
leaves the office once or twice a month during the lunch hour. About half the time we fuck up a storm and
the other half we just watch each other masturbate.
Sigh. I just love my job.
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