Anne wobbled precariously. She was dressed conservatively, in a white blouse and a tight black pencil skirt, with black heels. She looked like a well-dressed secretary, except for being bent double over a stool that was just a little too tall. She was shaky, perched atop her high heels, and she risked toppling over if she moved too much.
I had rolled the skirt up and was slowly caressing her pussy. She was wet and trying to thrust back on to my fingers but I refused to give in, instead lightly teasing her. When she started to moan I pulled my fingers away completely.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
“Mmm…I don’t know.” Anne whispered.
“You can stop this.” I slowly slid a finger past her lips. She tensed in pleasure.
“No…I’m just…nervous.” Anne is rarely nervous. She is usually confident in her sexuality. But this was a little different. There had recently been a big office party at Anne’s work. Anne wore the outfit she was wearing now. Her coworkers knew her as an extremely casual person, so the secretary outfit had been a bit of joke. For one of her coworkers it had a different effect.