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Casual Friday

I had a new job in a small company in our town. When I say new I suppose I should also say first job. I was finally gainfully employed and earning a salary. Not much of a salary, but it was a start. Basically I was the office girl and did whatever anyone told me to do. It wasn't a very large office, only half a dozen of us, including the manager, and everyone else considered themselves to be my superior. Very lowering to my self-esteem after lording it over the junior grades at school.

Being the lowly office girl I got tapped to hold down the fort while everyone else went to the twelve o'clock lunch break. For one hour I reigned supreme in the office. Too bad there was never anyone to reign over.

When I first started work my mother had stressed that I had to dress the part of an office worker. Neat white blouse and neat black skirt was the order of the day. That's what I wore and I found myself fitting right in with everyone else. However, there was one bright spot regarding clothing.

"Fridays are casual days," I was told. "You don't have to dress for an office. You can wear anything you like as long as you're sensible about it. We don't directly interact with the public so we can get away with casual clothing occasionally. Not like the sales staff and customer agents. They always have to dress to send a message about what a serious firm we are."

Now being a trusting soul I took that information on board and on the first Friday I rolled up in a colourful flirty skirt and a t-shirt. Also, knowing the propensity of some people to play practical jokes, I had my normal work clothes stashed in a bag and brought them with me. It turned out that I worried needlessly. Everyone was dressed casually and my outfit didn't stand out.

I continued wearing casual clothes on Fridays, the same as everyone else. For some reason I also continued to bring in my normal work clothes. It was a sort of 'just in case' thing. It made me feel a little happier so why not?

After I'd been there about a month there were rumours floating around that our manager was leaving. It was said that he'd found a better position in another state. Finally there was an announcement that yes, the manager would be departing, and that our current second in charge would be moving into his position.

When the next Friday rolled around I got a slight surprise. Everyone had shot through to lunch at twelve, leaving me to queen it over an empty office, when the manager stuck his head out of his office door and asked me to step inside. It had never occurred to me that the manager didn't necessarily go to lunch when the troops did. I wondered if he'd ever heard me singing during my solitary vigils when everyone else was at lunch. Oh my, an embarrassing thought. I headed over to his office to see what he wanted.

"Ah, Meredith," he said. "As you know I'm leaving this firm for pastures new, and there was something I wanted to do before I go. Tell me, do you realise how much you stand out from the others when it's casual Friday?"

I'm like, "Say, what? I'm wearing the same sort of things that everyone else does. What does he mean, stand out?" I mean, really, I was wearing a nice light green ruffled blouse with quite a modest cleavage showing and a nice dark red lace flared skirt. I looked good but they weren't the sort of clothes to make me stand out from the crowd.

"I'm not sure what you mean," I said defensively. "My clothes are just good casual clothes and quite similar to what the other girls wear."

"True enough," he said, "but they have much nicer contents."

It was another 'say what' moment. I could feel myself blushing slightly. Then I was blushing a whole lot more because the manager was undoing the buttons of my blouse.

"Stop that," I snapped with a gasp, slapping at his hands and trying to redo the buttons he'd already undone. Talk about a losing task. He could undo them faster than I could do them up. Not only that, he pulled the blouse loose from my skirt and undid all the buttons while I was still trying to fasten the first couple.

Would you believe that he slapped my hands away from my blouse? Not hard, more pushing them out the way, and then he was slipping the blouse off my shoulders, exposing my bra, a bra that was definitely not the sort of item to be flashed around the office. It was lacy and silky, more decorative than supportive. I mean, I was still a teenager even if I was nearly twenty, and my breasts were quite capable of standing firm without support.

I was trying to put my blouse back on properly and he was trying to slide it down my arms and he was winning.

"What are you trying to do?" I demanded. "You can't just go and take off my blouse."

"What I am DOING," he said, emphasizing the doing and ignoring the try, "is undressing you. Your figure has been tantalising me for a month now and I decided that seeing I'm leaving I may as well strip you and see if your figure is really as fine as I think. Now stop wriggling."

To ensure that I did as I was told he held my wrists together behind my back in one of his hands. Until then I'd never really considered what a large man he was, especially compared to a petite young lady such as myself.

He was also quite an experienced man, too. He flicked open the button and zip on my skirt and had it down in nothing flat. Despite my protests my panties followed my skirt and then he turned me around and undid my bra. Finally he let me go.

"You might as well let your things drop," he said, referring to the blouse and bra hovering around my wrists. "They're not exactly covering anything now."

Reluctantly I did so, standing there naked and furious and embarrassed all to hell. He stood in front of me, looking me up and down, and then twirled a finger to get me to turn around. I did a full three sixty turn, and then just stood there glaring at him.

"You have a really magnificent body," he said softly. "Well worth looking at."

He was continuing to look too, the lecherous heel. It turned out he wasn't content to look. He reached out with both hands and pressed a finger against each of my nipples, rolling them around slightly. Ye gods! You'd think they were on/off switches. As soon as he touched them I felt a flash of heat that went from my nipples all the way down to my groin, and my nipples stood up and practically waved to him.

I promptly backed up a step and he promptly closed the gap again. A couple more back steps and my bottom was pressing against his desk and I found myself leaning back against it. My hands automatically went behind me to brace myself and stop me falling flat on my back on the desk.

Looking down along the length of my body my face blazed hotly. I was totally exposed. He'd have been hard pressed to find a position to put me in to show more. He reached out and flicked my nipples again and again I felt that flash of heat. Then he reached down and slowly unzipped himself.

I was slowly shaking my head from side to side, while keeping my horrified eyes glued to his groin, saying, "Oh, no. Uh-uh. Not going to happen. Forget it. I don't do that sort of thing. You're not touching me with that."

He ignored everything I was saying, just hauling his cock out into the light so I could see it. Looking at it all I could think of was, it figures. Big men have big cocks. It looked truly formidable.

He took a step closer and his cock was pressing against my tummy, while his hands came up and closed over my breasts. He rubbed them lightly, enjoying the feel of them, while at the same time making lazy movements with hips so his erection rubbed back and forth across my tummy, emphasizing its size and hardness.

"You can't do this," I protested. "I told you, I don't do this sort of thing. Just back off, damn you."

"You're a virgin?" he asked, reading that I was in my blushing face. "Don't let it worry you. I'll take it slowly. You'll soon get the hang of it."

"I don't want to get the hang of it," I said with asperity, which he blandly ignored.

He reached down and dragged his cock down along my stomach, across my mons, and slipped it into the gap between my legs. When he let it go it did it's best to stand up again but my pussy was in the way. It wound up pressed hard against my slit, pressing between my lips and encouraging them to part. Then he started a sliding motion, dragging his cock back and forth against my pudenda, signalling his intentions.

Frustratingly I could feel my vagina picking up those signals. I seemed to be going soft and gooey inside, heat rising through me and moisture gathering. He kept up that slow see-saw, pushing along my slit and then dragging back, building up a slow agitation within me.

Now being virgin means you have no practical physical experience of sex. It doesn't mean you're completely ignorant of how the different parts fit together. Accordingly, I had decided that my manager wasn't actually going to have sex with me, but was just getting his rocks off in an intensely embarrassing manner. Then everything changed.

While he was rubbing his cock against me he was also fondling my breasts, rubbing them and getting closely acquainted with them. I was trying not to look at what he was doing but I promptly noticed when his hand dropped away from one of my breasts. I glanced down to see why and found he was taking hold of his cock. Then he did something and all of a sudden his cock wasn't rubbing against me, it was trying to push its way into me.

Did I say trying? Silly me. His erection just brushed past my lips with zero resistance from me and just like that there was this huge thing butting against my hymen. Not for long, though. His cock was as hard as a rock and my poor hymen didn't stand a chance, yielding with a sharp little stab, letting his triumphant cock surge forward along my passage.

I gave a little yelp when he broke through but after that all I was aware of was his cock, filling me up, stretching me, forcing me to take him, and there seemed to be an awful lot of him to take. He just kept pushing in until I could feel his groin rubbing against mine.

This was now an entirely new situation. It was one thing to have his cock rub against me, exciting me, albeit reluctantly. It was something else again to have that same cock jammed up inside me and doing terrible things to me feelings. Apart from the resentment that he'd dare to do this was the excitement of his cock rubbing against me, letting me know it was the master, and what it wanted, it took.

He dragged himself slowly out of my passage, but not right out, no matter how hopeful I was for a moment. Just before he popped free he stopped and returned. Doesn't seem like much when I say it, does it? He returned. What it actually meant was my letting out a startled cry as this cock came sailing back along my passage, wreaking havoc with my nerves as it came. My god, I'd never felt anything like it before.

It didn't stop at that, either. Where he'd been gently rubbing back and forth along my lips he was now banging back and forth along my passage. No gentle rubbing this, quietly arousing me. This was a full on assault upon my senses, driving me to where he wanted me.

I was quietly amazed, in the back of my mind, to note that I was moving with him. It wasn't deliberate on my part; it just seemed to happen naturally. I don't think I could have stopped if I tried and my body wasn't even going to let me try. I was banging against him just as sturdily as he was taking me.

God, I was glad that everyone else was at lunch because I was getting a trifle noisy. What with my protests (feeble though they were, there were protests), my gasps and my squeals, not to mention the slap of flesh against flesh, anyone who was in the office would have known what was happening.

I lost track of what he was doing. All I knew was that I was being well and truly screwed and that I was doing my part. Wild excitement was tearing through me and it just kept on building as he took me and took me and took me some more.

Every time he thrust into me I could feel myself losing control. I couldn't take this, I just knew I couldn't. I was coming apart at the seams and didn't know what to do. Every time he came charging home I felt that had to be it, that had to be his final thrust, but no, another one was coming and all I could do was gasp and push to meet it.

Eventually I felt a subtle difference in what he was doing and then I knew that this was nearly the end. This time I was right. With a few last rapid thrusts he started shuddering and jerking against me and I knew that he was climaxing. He'd also managed to help me over that last little hurdle and I was shuddering as well as my own climax rolled through me.

I now discovered another thing that wasn't fair. All he had to do was zip up and he was looking all business-like again while I was still naked.

"Right, Meredith," he said. "When the others get back tell them I'm having an extended lunch and will be later than normal. You'd better get dressed before the others return. You can use my en suite," he added.

Wasn't that magnanimous of him? I grabbed my clothes and flounced into the en suite. I also discovered that it's hard to flounce properly when you're buck naked and you just know a man is looking at your butt as you walk away.

I got tidied up, the others returned, and I went to lunch. When I got back from lunch it was work as normal and, sure enough, the manager was late back after an extended lunch. The swine didn't even look in my direction when he returned, just heading straight into his office.

I slowly stewed and fumed for the rest of the afternoon, although I did manage to hide it from the rest of the staff. But really, I was quite sure that what the manager had done qualified as rape. Sexual harassment at the very least, and it wasn't fair. He shouldn't be able to do things like that. I resolved to do something about it.

When it came time to knock off I stuffed around at my desk, ensuring that I would be the last to leave. The last bar the manager, that is. As soon as the others had gone I marched determinedly into his office.

He was standing over by the window when I came in and turned to me, smiling.

"Ah, Meredith," he said. "Was there something you wanted to see me about?"

"Yes," I said very firmly. "About what you did to me at lunch-time."

"Mm," he murmured. "I wondered if you'd come back for a repeat performance."

Say, what? What was he on about? I stared at him feeling slightly stunned. What I should have done was turn around and run. Before I even twigged to what was going on he had my arm and was bending me forward over the desk.

"What the hell do you think you're doing," I squawked, although I was able to take a good guess.

I mean, how many clues does a person need? One, I was bent forward over his desk. Two, his hand was on my back, holding me there. Three, he'd flipped up my skirt and was currently pulling down my panties. So take three guesses, and the first two don't count.

I'd barely finished speaking and his hand was running over my bare bottom and against my mound, roughly rubbing my lips back and forth.

I'm like, "Don't you fucking dare!" and he just laughed.

"Bit late to change your mind," he told me. "We both know this is what you came back for."

With that I could feel his erection pressing against me. I tried to squirm away but I was woefully late getting into the act. He knew just what he was doing and his cock was pushing past my lips even while I was squealing, "No, no, no, no, no, aaah."

Oddly enough, he took his time taking me this time. At lunch time it had been push, push, push, and I was nailed. Now, once he'd made contact, he was just easing into position, moving dead slow. Not that it made much practical difference from my point of view. If anything, this slowly, slowly, tactic was worse than the wham, bam, of the first time. I could feel him moving in, every inch of my passage expectant and waiting, my pussy totally ignoring my feelings and saying, "Hi, big fellow. Back again?"

Now that he was in me I knew what to expect. A hot assault upon my pussy until the world exploded around me. I waited for it to commence, feeling both anticipation and trepidation. I groaned silently. This was not the reason I was here. I was supposed to be protesting his earlier effort.

He fooled me, didn't he? Instead of the pussy pummelling I expected I got a slow, sensual, stroking of my senses. Yes, he was going in and out of me, but the big difference was the speed. He was just sliding in, nice and easy, letting me feel him gliding into position, my nerves twanging with every little movement. Then back out, still moving nice and slow.

How do I describe the feelings that swept through me? A sort of turbulent tranquillity? A sense of peace, threaded with excitement? I was rocking in place, taking him into me, knowing that there was no hurry and everything would come to fruition in its own good time.

I was moaning softly, happily, enjoying the feeling, willing for it to just go on and on. There was no rush but, slowly and surely, I could feel the turbulence and excitement increasing while the peaceful tranquillity was being pushed to the rear.

I was tossing my head about, not vigorously but in time to his slow movements. I needed something more and I was telling him so. What I got was more of the same, that continuous wearing away at my senses, lifting me up, driving me wild. He wasn't stopping, just going on and on, driving slowly in and retreating just as slowly, while I writhed under him, pleading.

He had to stop eventually, of course. I was just existing, my everything that cock of his and what it was doing to me. When he finally started moving faster all I could do was groan with relief and move with him. A few short hard strokes and I climaxed, and I climaxed in a big way. He did, too, I guess, but honestly, I was not worrying myself about how he was doing.

So I got to use the manager's en suite twice in one day. Lucky me. I also managed to get out while the getting was good. I would also, I decided, make any complaints via a letter. I was nearly home when I remembered. The damn man was leaving. He wouldn't be there next week. I should complain to the new manager? Somehow, I thought not. Simpler to chalk it up to experience and I have to admit, it was quite an experience.

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