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I wouldnt call it work

I wouldn’t call it work

 

I knew I was in trouble when she walked into the door.   She was wearing those tight jeans, and a gray tank top that revealed her large firm breast.   She smiled at me as she caught me looking at her.   Joyce was a sexy thirty seven year old woman who was married to Brett.   Brett was one of the volunteers on the Fire Department where I worked.   Recently she had been coming by the Fire Station to work on a Term Paper for College.

Brett and Joyce had stopped by the Fire Station to pick up some paperwork he had forgotten.   As he walked into the next room, she sat down on the couch next to me.   She leaned back against the couch, which caused her breast to push against her tank top.   Her hooded sweatshirt fell to the side, exposing her large breast.   Her tank top was so tight that you could see the outline of her nipples.   With every breath she took, her breast would slowly raise and lower.   This sensation must have made her excited because her nipples became completely erect.   She sat there watching T.V. when her husband came back in the room.   He said that they were leaving, and she stood up.   She started to zip up her sweatshirt when she suddenly dropped something.   Right in front of me she turned around and bent over.   Her jeans slid down and exposed the top of her thong.   Just above that was a little tribal tattoo that ran above her waist.   I couldn’t help, but to look at her fine round ass as she stood back up.   She then turned around, looked at me and winked.   Shocked, I smiled and blushed.   She then walked over to the door and left.
 

I continued the rest of the day as if nothing had happened.   But for some reason, I couldn’t get Joyce out of my mind.   I kept thinking about her round ass and how I would have loved to place my tongue on it.   I wanted to trace circles around those pert and erect nipples.   What would it have been like to feel her wet pussy around my cock?   With every thought, I became harder and harder.   Around eleven o’clock in the evening, I decided to go to bed.   The sleeping quarters were small, but cozy.   It had one bed, a couch and a computer inside a small room with a locked door.   I had made my bed and was about to lay in it when I heard a knock on the bay doors.
 

Updated: December 21, 2016 — 11:11 pm
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