Bring your daughter to work day [fM] [office]

White stockings ran from her black leather boots to a pleated skirt with a green-blue plaid design. A white polo tucked into the skirt’s tight waistband, embroidered with the emblem of a prestigious private school — expensive enough to earn the label “academy”. She was cute, in a bookish way. Simple makeup, brunette hair tucked neatly behind her ears.

In our sea of gray suits and beige cubicals, she stood out.

I pumped the handle on the chrome carafe, coffee sputtering into a paper cup. Another stolen glance across the office, and she caught my gaze. Eye contact, just for a moment, a fraction of a second before I looked away. I shook my head to wash the embarrassment off and trudged back to my cube.

She made a beeline towards me. The blush returned to my cheeks. Resting my elbow on the half-height wall, I sipped from my cup. Look casual, I told myself.

I said, “You looking for something?”

No answer. Her gaze slid over me, darted around my desk. My workspace was messier than I liked. A mane of post-its around three mis-matched screens, magazines stacked in one corner, the remains of breakfast in the other, and between them splayed out a half-dozen papers covered in scribbled notes.

“Where is everyone?” she said. It was quiet, the cubes were otherwise deserted.

I shrugged. “Lunch?”

“Huh,” she said, “So…” she looked at my nameplate, “Victor.”

It wasn’t a question, but I nodded.

She walked past me and sat down on my desk chair, tossing her bag onto the floor. Leaning back, cool as if she owned the place, she said, “What do you do here?”

“Uhh…” What was this? “I’m a DBA. Database admin.”

She gave me a skeptical look. “Never heard of that.”

A response formed on my lips, but she didn’t give me the chance. “I’m Carly,” she said, “My mom’s Marianne.” She pointed across the office. It wasn’t necessary, we all knew where Marianne’s office was.

The VP of Sales, Marianne was an intimidating woman. She didn’t tolerate incompetence, she didn’t give second chances. I was a different department, but it didn’t protect me any. She was head of Sales, and as such her authority extended to all corners of the org chart.

Carly continued, “I’m doing a careers thing for school. It’s senior year, so we’re supposed to be learning about ‘the real world.’” Sarcasm. “I’ve gotta interview someone about their job. Mom said I could ask around here. As long as the person wasn’t busy.”

I blinked, taking this all in.

“And, uh,” she said, pointedly looking at my screens, “It looks like you’re just screwing off.”

I glanced at my screens as if I didn’t know what I’d find. Music, reddit, chat, news. Even Outlook, that archetypal business tool, which should have had my back, now displayed one of HR’s humorless memes.

“Hey, I’m on break,” I said, “But I’ll help you. Maybe you’ll even find out being a DBA is interesting?”

“No, I doubt that,” Carly rolled her eyes, twisting the chair to one side, then the other, “But nobody here does anything interesting. You at least, I though looked cool enough to help me. Plus you’re the only one not at lunch or whatever.”

“I, um, I’m not really sure what to say to that.”

“Then don’t say anything,” she continued, “And help me with this assignment.” She yanked a paper from her bag and slid it across the desk.

It was a school worksheet. Prompts followed by empty lines.

“So, what?” I said, “You need me to tell you what my job duties are?”

“You already said,” she held my gaze with casual indifference, “You administer databases.”

“Well, yeah…”

She smirked. “What I really want to know is,” she said, “Who’s fucking who?”

I froze. “What?”

“Isn’t that what you office workers do all day? Bang each other in supply closets and blow your way to promotions?”

“I don’t…” I shook my head and set my coffee down, “Where’d you–”

“Oh, come on, mister tight pants,” she said, “Like you’re not trying to show off your butt on the DL, advertise the goods. What about that chick at the front desk? She’s hot. Someone here’s got to be screwing her. Is it you?”

“Err… I think she’s got a boyfriend?”

Carly scoffed. “You think? You don’t know? So, what, you’re too chickenshit to ask her for a quickie?” She was grinning as she spoke, the previous disinterest shed, her eyes gleaming as she taunted me. “Or what about that tall lady who works for my mom, Darlene? She’s nice and curvy, she more your type?”

“Darlene’s married,” I said, eyes wide, “Two young kids.”

“So she’s a MILF,” Carly flicked her eyebrows, “Even better. I bet if you asked she’d let you blow your load on her tits, do things to her she’d never let her husband do.”

“I… uh…”

“There’s got to be someone,” she said, drawing out the last word.

“Your mom must–”

“Oh, it’s my mom that gets your cock stiff?” Carly looked thoughtful, “I see, I see.”

A protest rose in my throat. “That’s not what I–”

She cut me off again. “No, I get it. My mom’s gorgeous, got tits for miles. But it’s probably the whole ‘power dynamic’ thing that makes your balls ache. Wanting to fuck the boss and all. I feel ya. I’ve got a teacher that gets me wet. But he won’t give in, even though I’m legal now. The prude.”

“Oh my god,” I muttered, burying my blushing face in my palm.

“This dildo trophy thing,” Carly said.

“What!?”

Carly giggled. She was pointing at the lucite award on my desk, the one I got last year for saving the company some money. Now that she said it, it did look curiously phallic.

“My mom give this to you?”

I nodded.

“A big fat cock to sit on your desk. I bet my mom picked the design out specific for you. The big dick award for the cute guy with the nice ass.”

“It’s just a trophy,” I said, but my voice was small.

“You ever play with it?” Carly said, picking it up, holding it’s base against her crotch, bouncing it side to side like it was her cock. My cheeks were hot, my collar tight. She seemed delighted at my embarrassment.

Then, her gaze locked on mine, she brought the trophy to her face. She bounced it’s tip against her cheek, sliding it towards her open mouth. My breath caught as she stuck out her tongue, and my heart started pounding as she fellated the plastic shaft. She sucked on the trophy, making a loud slurping sound.

“Shhhhhh!” I hissed, “Someone’s gonna hear!”

She put the trophy down and sat up straight. She arched her back and tucked her chin, shooting me pure innocence. “Sorry, mister, I’ve been a bad girl. I deserve a spanking.”

There was silence. I pictured her bent over my desk, skirt flipped back, ass up, my hand slapping her pale skin, leaving red handprints. The real Carly sat there, holding eye contact, her grin knowing, reading my thoughts.

But then she dragged her hand up her thigh, pulling the hem of her skirt up with it. I gasped as she spread her knees. Lace panties, bright pink and teasing, wrapping tight over her mound.

It lasted just for a second before she giggled and flung her skirt back down.

My breaths came heavy. “Show me again,” I whispered.

“You boys,” she rolled her eyes playfully, “So predictable.” But she pulled her skirt up a second time.

I drank in the sight. White stockings stopping midway up her creamy thighs, the pink material of her panties clinging to her pussy. She enjoyed the attention. That was clear from the smile on her face, the delight in her eye.

Carly lifted her knees up, resting them on the armrests of my chair, spreading her legs even wider. Aloof, relaxed, she ran her fingertips up through the lace.

Her pussy lips became outlined in the fabric, and I moaned, “Ohhh…”

“You like schoolgirl pussy?” she said, stroking herself with a cheeky smile.

I nodded.

She brought her legs together and wiggled, sliding her panties down, kicking them off. In slow motion, she folded her thighs back against her chest, wider, wider. She showed me her pussy, bare, pink, tight. A proud expression on her face, she petted herself, her fingers running up and down.

“It’d be pretty fucked up if you touched me, wouldn’t it?”

“This is already fucked up,” I muttered.

There were footsteps behind me. “Hey, Victor!”

I spun around. It was Bob. Bob’s that guy. Fat and unhygienic. Loud and oblivious. Cannot read social cues. Every office has a Bob. I was unlucky enough to sit next to ours.

Swallow, clear your throat, look natural, compose yourself. “Err, hey, Bob.”

I took an anxious glance over my shoulder. What had he seen? Carly sat hunched over her school assignment, looking bored, indifferent. Skirt in place. I exhaled.

“Ah, so you’re the sucker,” Bob said to me. He turned to Carly. “Oh, excuse me, miss. I meant to say, the one lucky enough to help Marianne’s kid with her homework.”

“Ha ha, Bob,” I said dryly.

Carly’s eyes flickered to mine, then over to Bob. It meant something, I didn’t know what.

“Hey, Bob,” she said, “Push your chair over here for us. You weren’t using it, right?” Her tone was authoritative, no room for discussion.

Bob stopped in his tracks. “Uh, no, I…”

“Thanks, Bob,” Carly cut him off, “I’ll tell my mom how helpful you were.”

Shoulders hunched, Bob rolled his chair over as instructed. He glanced meaningfully back at his now chairless desk, and gave me a look. I shrugged and sat down.

“I guess I’ll go…” Bob said, “Uh, to the breakroom. Work from there, ‘til you’re done that is.”

I grimaced and nodded. He walked away.

“Nice,” I whispered, scooting close to Carly, “You’re already a boss.”

“Learned from my mom,” she said, “Now. You’re going to tell me what to write down on this worksheet.” She grabbed a pen from my desk organizer. She had reached past the decoy shit pens I set out to give to co-workers, and found the secret stash of good pens hidden in the back. Damn, this girl had potential.

Even still, to let myself be bossed around so easily? I didn’t want to help with her homework, I wanted to again lay eyes on her sweet pussy, to see where that was going.

“Oh?” I said, “I’m going to do your homework for you?”

“Yes, Victor,” she said, taking my hand and pushing it up under her skirt, setting it on her thigh, “You are.”

My heart skipped a beat.

The heat of her pussy radiated against my fingers. Skin soft and delicate, I rubbed her automatically. She moaned, and I froze as I realized what I was doing.

“Degree?” Carly said.

“Huh?”

She rolled her eyes. “Where’d you get your degree? What’s it in?” She pointed at the worksheet.

Oh, of course. I told her.

“Job title?” She twisted her hips around, wriggling her crotch closer and closer to my fingers.

I answered, and she wrote it down.

“Responsibilities?” I knew better, I shouldn’t do this. Especially not to Marianne’s daughter. Her heat drew my hand in anyway, my fingers brushing against her sex.

My answers were bad, borderline incoherent I’m sure. She didn’t seem to care.

“Previous roles?” she said, her cheeks flush, her breaths coming harder. I needed more, to go further. My hand rubbed her firmly, her hips meeting me in kind, grinding herself against me. Warmth coated my fingers.

I answered, but she didn’t write down anything. Instead she bit her lip and closed her eyes, sucking in a breath.

“Fuck…” she groaned as I slid my index finger inside her. She was so tight. My middle finger joined and she whimpered.

She turned to me, a needy look.

I soaked my fingers in her wetness, smearing it around. She moaned, but it was for show, like this was it, like I was some novice, fumbling and clueless. She didn’t know what I could do.

My fingers pumped in and out, and without slowing, my thumb made contact above her clit.

An electric shock, Carly tensed, body going rigid.

“Too much?” I asked with a smirk.

“Noooooo…” she squeaked, “Don’t stop.”

I began again, my thumb teasing her ridge, my fingers circling her g-spot. She shuddered as her clit swelled in excitement. “Fuck…” she whispered.

I built her up and up and up until her chest was heaving, her eyes glassy. Seeing her true arousal was a powerful narcotic. She was giving in to my insistence, letting me direct her pleasure.

And then, knowing she was ready, I brought my thumb down, curled my fingers just right. As one, I reached her g-spot and clitoris, applying pressure only gently. Gently, but enough.

Thighs quivering, teeth clenched, scream muffled. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she grinded her pussy into my fingers at her own tempo. I gave her just enough force, adjusting according to her reaction, driving bliss into her.

She collapsed into me. My hand rhythmically pulsing between her legs, I massaged her, each stroke bringing out a whimper.

Breath again quickening, her hips thrust and bucked wildly against my hand.

“Kiss me…” she moaned.

Our lips locked, her tongue darting into my mouth. A frenzied, frantic kiss, held all through her orgasm. Her groans and sounds became mine, passing through her mouth, silenced by my tongue.

We held the kiss as she came down, her body going limp, resting back into my desk chair. My fingers and thumb held in place as she continued grinding.

“Fuck,” she muttered. Her thrusts took on a determined, purposeful cadence. She worked herself towards a second climax, the careless abandon gone. This time she was intentional, deliberate, using my grip to design her own pleasure.

With a silent groan she pinched her cute face tight, her body writhing in orgasm.

It was amazing. “Holy fuck,” I said.

Cheeks flush, Carly sat up and pulled my wrist from her. She wore her contentment on her face, a sheen of sweat making her soft skin glow. But did I see a touch of triumph there, too?

“Think anyone heard that?” she said.

I jumped. Oh, fucking hell, I’d forgotten where I was. Who’s daughter I was with. I spun around, just daring to peek above the cube walls, scanning for signs of co-workers, of Marianne.

“Thank god,” I said, “Nobody’s here.” How much time had passed? I had no idea. It didn’t matter. I sat back into the seat, once again able to breath.

“Then I can do this.”

“Huh?”

Carly’s hands ran up my slacks, unzipping my fly. Wide-eyed, I watched her hand slip inside. She grabbed my cock and I gasped.

“No way,” I said, “Someone’ll see.”

“You just said nobody’s around.”

“They’ll be back soon.” Why was I protesting? I do not know. I felt like I should. Like it was what I was supposed to do.

“We’ll be discreet,” she said.

“What?”

She just grinned at me, then pulled my dick and balls out through the opening.

“You call that discreet?”

She looked down. “Good god, Victor,” she exclaimed, “That’s one magnificent cock you’ve got.”

I whimpered as she played with it.

“What? Did you think I’d leave you hard and horny?” She shook her head. “I’m a slut, Victor. Scoot forward. Under the desk.”

I understood, rolling the chair as she said. She wrapped her hand around my shaft and stroked, and now it was my turn to suppress groans.

“It ain’t gonna work,” I said, “I’m too nervous. People will be back soon. They’ll know.”

Her grin warped into something mischievous. My attraction to her only increased.

Wordlessly, she slipped off the chair and onto the ground, crawling under my desk. It could only mean one thing, but I still didn’t believe it was happening until I felt her lips on my shaft.

Marvelously soft and silky, her tongue slid down my length until the head of my cock bumped against the back of her mouth. She sucked on me, her hand stroking my cock’s base.

I slid down in my chair and tried to look like I was reading something on screen. My eyes were unfocused, the act would never hold up if someone looked close. But it was the best I could do, the schoolgirl sucking me off under my desk was too distracting.

Her lips pumped up and down, making faint slurping sounds. She flicked her tongue in a way that sent my mind reeling.

Footsteps approached from behind. I bolted upright. Look normal! Hope whoever it was would just pass by.

To my horror the footsteps stopped. Right behind me. Bob?

“Victor.”

Oh, no. No no no. Time stood still. That voice was unmistakable. Not Bob. Far worse than Bob.

“Err, hi Marianne.” I turned my head, displaying what I hoped was a neutral look. Beneath the desk, Carly’s sucking on my cock hadn’t slowed. If anything, she’d gotten more enthusiastic, fingers toying with my balls.

“Do you happen to know where my daughter, Carly, could be?” she said, “I thought I saw her walking over here earlier.”

Carly squeezed my balls, and I swallowed my yelp before it could escape my lips. “Nope,” I said, too quickly, “No idea.”

“She was supposed to meet me for lunch five minutes ago,” Marianne continued, “My schedule’s booked solid, she better not be late.”

Now Carly’s lips were on my balls, sucking them into her mouth while she jacked my cock off.

“Uh,” I said, “Well if I see her, umm, I’ll let her know.”

“Thanks,” Marianne said, starting to walk away. Somehow, I had survived.

Then she turned back, her brow furrowed. She was looking at my desk. At the papers there. At the school worksheet that was clearly Carly’s, with Carly’s handwriting filling half the page.

“Wait,” she said, “Was she talking to you?”

Carly’s thumb was running circles around my glans.

“Oh yeah,” I said, “Carly was here earlier. That’s right. But she, um, she left. Said she had to, uh… go do… something.” Carly tugged at my balls with her lips.

Marianne gave me suspicious look. “Is everything ok, Victor?”

Carly’s mouth returned to my cock, her tongue running down the vein bulging from the underside of my shaft. I suppressed a shudder. “Oh yeah, just, you got me in the middle of really focusing on this project.” I nodded towards my screen.

It was clearly bullshit, there was nothing on my desk that looked like I was working.

With two hands and surprising strength, Carly gripped my cock and jacked it full force. “Carly’s, uhhh, she should be back soon,” I said, “And I’ll let her know. To go find you. ASAP.”

“Thanks…” Marianne said, voice trailing off, knowing there was a mystery unresolved. But she turned and walked away.

“That was a thrill,” Carly said from under the desk. Then she was sucking again.

I sat back into the chair and watched the girl suck me off, my fat shaft violating those sweet teen lips. She made a delighted “ooh” sound as my cock grew harder.

Carly’s eyes fixed on mine, her stare knowing, lustful. The corners of her mouth curled into a grin, smiling as her lips stretched around my girth. She went and went, pleasing my cock her every concern. She sucked with confidence, with command. There was no innocence here, no uncertainty in her action.

She cupped my balls, the velvety touch of her fingers sending a wave of ecstasy shooting through me. Blood rushed through my head, my body tensed.

“I’m gonna…” I said, but Carly already knew. She pulled her lips off my cock, pumping me with two fists, her mouth open, eyes insistent. She wanted it.

I came, a thick stream of spunk blasting from my dick and between her eager lips. It was unreal, surges of my cum spurting into her mouth as her hands pumped me dry. My seed pooled, coating her tongue.

She closed her lips and swallowed, as if she needed to impress me even more.

I wilted into the chair while she stood up and composed herself. She gave me a knowing smile. “I’ll be back after lunch,” she said.

I was in a daze. “There’s more?”

She giggled. “To finish the assignment, dumbass.” She winked at me. “But if you want more, sure.”

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/p3tyso/bring_your_daughter_to_work_day_fm_office