I'd found one in my underwear drawer, a short one, remember I showed it you.
It came from Coventry Canes ages ago, as past of a set, and
it used to be longer but my husband cut it down and smoothed the tip for otk
use, I think it's 7/16" thick if I remember correctly, no idea what that is in
millimetres but I do know it's still very flexible and it hurts like
hell.
"Why do you ask?" Said P, turning round from his
desk and looking at me as if I was asking a really weird
question.
"Because I found one in my underwear drawer this
morning....and wondered what it was doing there."
"Was it about two foot long with a black
handle?"
"Yes," I said.
"Ah, that one........no, it's not lost at all,
I knew exactly where it was, in fact I put it there. Appropriate place for a
nice stingy little cane, don't you think? It goes well with things in underwear
drawers.......and things associated with such drawers.... delicates, silks,
lace, bottoms, intimacy, scents, privacy, intrusion, I can think of all sorts of
associations, yep." He was smiling now.
"You still haven't said what it's doing in there,"
I reminded him.
"Well it's resting, at least for now. But it's got
work to do later, it's going to chastise the owner of its soft and silky
temporary home."
"Oh really, what for?" I asked feeling myself
go all warm inside.
And then the bloody phone rang and broke the little
repartee we'd started and it didn't return because things got a little busy for a while and it was forgotten, or so I thought. Just after 5.30pm, P came and stood behind
my desk, reached forward and pushed the ans button on the fax
anwer machine which sits on the corner of my desk (its big and old
fashioned but we keep it because it makes good quick copies, and my desk
has loads of space). I swivelled my chair round to face him but he turned
me back to my desk and put his hands on my tits, fondling them gently as
he told me he hoped I hadn't forgotten our little conversation
earlier. Christ, if I had it certainly didn't take me long to remember it
and I squeezed my legs together and let out a tiny moan.
My husband started massaging my shoulders,
he's very good at that in fact so good I think he could do it
professionally but I'm glad he doesn't. I felt the
day's stresses disappear, his hand went back to my tits only this
time under my top where he could tweak my nipples, I told him someone might come
in but he didn't stop and I didn't stop him. Completely irresponsible, I know, as his left hand stayed with my nipples and his right slipped
inside the waistband of my trousers and down below desk level where, he
said, no one could see what was going on even if they did come in. They would
still have seen him leaning over me, obviously groping I thought, but
still I didn't stop him and when his right hand slipped under the gusset of my
knickers I still didn't stop him, instead I
started moaning gutturally and wiggling in my seat. And if a
strange DHL man had walked in two minutes later they would have seen
a woman behind a big desk wide eyed apparently struggling quite violently as
a tall man held her down with one hand by then over her mouth as
she orgasmed. And he would probably have called the police or, worse still,
rushed to my assistance and gotten into a fracas with P.....or if someone from
the other offices, who knows us, had walked in, well I think we'd be
looking for new offices:)
After I recovered my composure, I went and
turned the snib on the office door and gave my husband a well deserved blowjob.
I didn't get caned later but P told me I must keep it in my drawer, he said
it'll get used soon enough.
Promises promises.
Promises promises.
Ronnie
xx
