Chapter 82 – Overstimulated

I take a moment to scream in my head before grabbing the remote to my nipple stimulators and stepping into Mal’s office. I see that he’s already sitting at his desk with his chair askew, allowing me enough room to shimmy into place on his lap. I’m familiar enough with the position that I’m able to set the remote on his desk and pick up the pad and pen before he even reaches his arm around me and lays his hand casually but securely on my thigh.

As soon as I cross my legs at the knee, Mal’s other hand lands there and he starts nonchalantly caressing both areas. As he takes a moment to put his thoughts together, I’m reminded of the first time I sat in his lap. It felt like a true betrayal to myself at the time. Like I was killing off a part of my manhood and being this sexual being with another man. And now? Now, it’s one of the least sexual things I do. Sure, it’s sitting in a guy’s lap in just about as sexist of an office secretary position as you can get, but it’s honestly not sexual to Mal. It’s just how he likes me to sit while he dictates a letter or has me taking notes during a phone call. And as he’s treated it as that for months now, I treat it the same.

With the familiar pat/slap to my thigh, indicating I’m to begin transcription, Mal begins, “To **** and Son’s gallery, address and phone and such. Gallerist ****, I want to thank you for the personal show you offered my wife and me. I found the artists and specific exhibits to be fascinating. I want to, however, also personally apologize for my wife’s behavior…”

I let out a little huff as I continue to write what Mal is saying. I can already sense that this is going to be a longer letter as Mal is often quite verbose when he apologizes for Veronica’s behavior. It’s my personal belief that on all but the rarest occasions, Nica herself should be writing or calling in her own apology. But after months of having a close view of their marriage, I realize that she just doesn’t care what her attitude and actions do to Mal’s reputation and business. It’d be one thing if they were simply independently wealthy, simply managing charities between trips to Europe and Australia, but they’re not wealthy. Or at least no THAT wealthy. Veronica’s lifestyle already outspends Mal’s salary. If it wasn’t for him constantly making his bonuses and him slyly investing money out of her sight, they’d likely have declared bankruptcy by now. Last year, I’d have called owning three homes, five cars, and having a private jet card as wealthy. I’d have never guessed that all the property was mortgaged twice over, that the cars were all leased, and that the private jet card could only be used for business purposes.

It didn’t take me long, once I was under Mal’s thumb, to find his net worth. He was worth over twenty million dollars. It took me several months though to realize just how that worked. Sure, his bonuses and his stocks were part of that, but they weren’t liquid assets he could cash in. If you separated out all of his frozen or untouchable assets and combined all the financial voodoo and various forms of debt he carried, Mal was more likely worth five to ten million. NEGATIVE five to ten million.

After we finally finish with the letter of apology to **** and Son’s gallery, Mal has us move on to several short business letters. By the time we start working on his newest official proposal letter to Mr. Zeller, a sweetheart purchase of a local credit union that will be easy to turn around a huge profit with our banking division, I’ve been in Mal’s lap for nearly forty-five minutes. I’ve gotten quite good at holding still while in his lap as I know how distracting me rubbing my ass all over his groin can be. I used to think that was the point, leading to more than one trip to the couch for a hand job, but now I know better. Unfortunately, even I can’t hold a single position for almost an hour without getting uncomfortable.

I wait until the right moment, when Mal gets into a particular rhythm that he doesn’t like to break, before adjusting my position in his lap. I even take the time to uncross and recross my legs as I feel that we’re going to be here for awhile longer. Once I’m comfortable and catch up to what I missed writing down, another skill I’ve gotten good at, I get a simple light slap to my hip. Just a sharp reminder that me moving in his lap is distracting.

That’s when it hits. The damned panties start up their manic vibrations. The vibrations were arousing when the they were simply resting in place. They were devastatingly effective when I was sitting down, holding the panties tight to my body. But now, in Mal’s lap, with my legs crossed holding them even tighter to my trapped and hidden away penis, I can’t even pretend that they’re not going to drive me insane. I start shifting my weight between my legs, trying desperately to find a position where my own thighs aren’t holding them tight against my pussy. At the same time, I have to literally bite my lower lip to stop a longing moan from echoing out of my mouth.

While I attempt to find a way to at least minimize the arousing toy’s effect, I try my best to keep up with Mal’s dictation, but I can already see that it’s going to be a losing effort. I’m not catching everything he’s saying and my shorthand is so shaky and scribbled that even I won’t be able to decipher it all.

Just as I feel that I won’t be able to take any more, just as Mal stops and directs all his attention to me, the vibrating stops. I look at Mal, hoping to find pure confusion in his eyes. I have no idea what he’ll believe I was doing, but I really really don’t want him to KNOW what was happening. For a moment, we’re simply staring at each other. When his hand starts to rub up and down on my hip a little more aggressively, I finally let out a sigh of relief and try to make-up a reason since he clearly doesn’t realize a toy was driving me wild. With a shake of my head and an adjustment to my hair I offer a soft giggle and say, “Hey, all work and no play makes Mal and Paris a dull… nnnNNNnggg”

Again, the damned toy turns on. My ability to speak clearly is stolen from me leaving me to try and smile while simultaneously not letting a vocal indication of my again quickly rising arousal sneak out. Mal slowly starts to smile and hugs me a little closer as he seems to ‘understand’. Unfortunately for me, his understanding is just about a hundred and eighty degrees off, “I get it, I’ve been teasing you, haven’t I? Here I played with your toys yesterday and then had you bring the remote in and have left you in anticipation for an hour now. Well, lets take care of that right away.”

I stiffen up as Mal holds me close and leans forward so that he can grab the remote. I try to stammer out a negation, an effective response to return him to simply dictating his letters, but my attempts may have well been to entice him to play with me instead as all I can get out is a purring “mmmmaaa” as the panties continue to vibrate against my most sensitive of sensitives.

After a quick pull of my white silk blouse and blue mesh bra to make sure I was wearing the nipple stimulators Mal flicks the switch. My world is immediately taken over by the stimulation of the toys. The panties and stimulators each can spike my arousal in their own way but together they make practically everything else around me disappear. There is no Mal, no sitting on a man’s lap, no satiny rubbing of my thighs, no hair slipping in front of my face. There’s simply the writhing constant arousing of my two most needy areas, feeding off each other, enhancing each other. Turning me into a puddle of my former self.

I only barely notice Mal’s appreciative grumble in his chest as he pulls me closer and starts nibbling at my seemingly offered neck, “Hmm, have I been ignoring my pretty girl for too long? And here I thought I was giving you some extra space as you wanted. If I’d have even guessed that you’d want to play more, I’d have set aside an entire morning for it Paris!”

Not caring what the action may look like I realize I desperately need to pull the panties away from my faux pussy. Setting the pen and pad down while I bite at my lower lip and uncross my legs, I start reaching for the hem of my skirt. Mal, however, misinterprets my actions and takes matters into his own hands. Literally. With a slight grunt he adjusts himself under me, giving his hardening cock more room to grow stiff under my plump rear. At the same time, he guides my **** hands away from my skirt and between us, pushing my palms to his growing shaft. As soon as he has them in place, rolling my body closer and trapping my hands between my own thigh and his cock, he lays one of his hands on my inner thigh, right on the lacy welt of my stockings. The other hand comes up to cup my breast and starts casually kneading the heaving orb.

I was afraid that the stimulators, both nipple and panty, would be enough to drive me insane, but the addition of Mal’s hands on my body seems to be the missing piece of that puzzle. The last bit of my logical mind fades away considering that there’s no way Mal is going to turn the nipple stimulators off and there’s unlikely going to be a reprieve from the panty bandit spiking me between my legs. And that leaves me stuck on Mal’s lap with nothing to do but whimper and whine as I quickly approach a humiliating orgasm.

I barely register Mal’s appreciative chuckle as I lean further into him and start kissing at his neck. While his stubble brushes against my lush lips, I know I’m sending him all the wrong messages, but I can’t help it. Me cumming in his lap is an almost foregone conclusion at this point so I simply surrender to the inevitable and focus on increasing my own stimulation. Kissing Mal isn’t my idea of sexually satisfying, but kissing is still kissing and adding the sensation to my lips is the focus.

I can feel Mal’s hardness stop growing under my hands as I rub and caress at his length and girth but can also still register that it’s because I’ve gotten him to grow to full hardness in record time. Between my thighs starting to tremble and my hands starting to stiffen and clench, I can’t move to rub anywhere near the tip of Mal’s cock which in a way is turning the tables. I’m getting full stimulation rushing me to ecstasy while he’s simply teased.

Evidently Mal reaches the same conclusion as he shuffles the deck back into his favor. With a huff he pulls his hand from my breast and grabs a handful of my long hair. Using that as a grip he redirects my lips to his and engages me in a far more intimate kissing session. At the same time I can feel him making mini thrusting actions underneath me, obviously desiring more stimulation. And honestly, who could blame him? He has a curvy, sexy, mewling strawberry blonde secretary in his lap that’s so obviously getting off by what he would assume is HIS actions and presence.

In an action that I probably would have predicted had ninety percent of my mind not been occupied with **** pleasure, Mal simultaneously pushes his chair back, spreads his legs wide, and grabs me by my narrow waist to lift me up easily off his lap. I let out surprised pants as Mal turns my body so that we’re face to face and brings me in for another intimate kiss, this time while my legs slip between his and I’m lowered to my knees.

When Mal straightens back up in his chair after breaking away from our kiss, I can only lay my arms on his thighs for support as my body continues careening toward that ultimate release. That, of course, gives me a close-up view as Mal undoes his belt and pants and in one quick motion slips his pants and underwear down to bunch up where my arms are resting, allowing his impressive cock to spring free and almost swipe at my face until it’s pointing straight up.

In retrospect there are so many actions I could have taken that would have been perfectly acceptable to Mal. I could have propped myself up and scooted closer, giving him a hand job but not being face to face with his cock. I could have stood up when I still had the space and taken him by the hand over to the couch for a standard handsy. I could have returned to Mal’s lap, giving him a hand job between us while kissing him. Any of these or a dozen others actions would have been better than simply staying put and moaning while seemingly starting entranced at his cock mere inches from my face.

Instead, with no action from me beyond seeming to be enthralled by Mal’s manhood, Mal gladly guides my hands to where he likes them… my left cupping his heavy hairy balls, my right gripping his girth right beneath the head. Maybe it was the overstimulation erasing the smart part of my brain, maybe it was the overt sexual nature floating in the air, or maybe it was just the loving expectant aroused look from Mal as he smiled down at me. Regardless of the reason, I didn’t move away or even adjust my position and instead started jacking off my boss while kneeling between his legs.

While the situation is far from perfect, I figured it’s still going to be fine. I’m so close to cumming that I don’t care that I’m living out what is probably one of Mal’s personal fantasies. I’ll rub him until he erupts pointing straight up. Most of his mess will land on my hands and back on his own cock for me to rub in, but at least I’ll cum at nearly the same time. When everything has calmed down, I’ll be able to get up, get the towel from near the couch, and pull my traitorous panties away from me before cleaning and zipping Mal back up. Another hand job done, just a little bit more intimate than the previous times I’ve jacked him off.

Or at least, that’s what should have happened. Instead, my situation is somehow turned completely upside down in a matter of just a few seconds. First, the panties turn off on their own. I don’t initially pay much mind as they’ve already done their job and with the nipple stimulators still buzzing away, I’m still going to get that orgasm of mine. Next though, there’s a quiet almost hesitant knocking at the door. Just as it registered that can only be Art’s shy knocking, Mal gets himself presentable for an important client in the only way he knows how… by pushing me forward as he scoots his chair immediately after me.

Before I know it, I’m hunkered down in the desk’s footwell with my heels and ass pressed up against the modesty panel, my head up against the keyboard panel, and my shoulders wedged between Mal’s knees, all basically immobilizing every part of me except my forearms and hands that are currently wrapped around Mal’s cock.

Mal’s cock, that he’s pointed forward to avoid clipping it on his desk and is now pointing right at my nose, less than an inch away.