The Art of Not Getting Caught SeXStoRY

It started innocently enough. He and I worked together in the same department of a large university. One day he was introducing me to one of his contractors telling him that I was the payroll clerk, and how everyone just loved me. I told the contractor that my friend was under the impression that I was all "sweetness and light" when my friend whispered very softly into my ear, "No, I don't." Apparently he could tell that I was a bit naughty, well, maybe more than I bit. We flirted with each other for several months with him at one point asking me if I would like an armadillo embossed on my forehead. I was confused until I realized his belt buckle was an armadillo, and he was referring to sticking his cock in my mouth hard enough to push my forehead against his belt. He was quite a bit older than I, but he was intriguing. He was a biker which always turned me on. I tried every excuse I could think of, and all he had to say was "when you think of something good, you let me know." I remember the morning he slid his hands down the front of my sweater while we were in my cubicle, and the next employee due in for work was going to be there and soon. I could feel my nipples harden against his calloused hands, and I could feel myself getting very warm between my legs. He kissed me, and pulled his hands out of my sweater just as my coworker came in. That was the beginning of a rather exhibitionist and highly erotic office affair. He had been telling me we could go to the roof of the Administration building (he had keys to everything as he was the Remodeling Supervisor), and I declined telling him we would get caught, but the idea excited me. We could both be fired for what we were doing. One day, as I was getting ready to go to the Admin building, I ran into him outside, and I just felt warm and wet between my legs just imaging his fingers up me. I suggested that we go up to the roof, and get as naked as possible. Needless to say, he was in his truck before I could start the car. We went up on the roof where the smokers came to light up. We could be caught by anybody at any time. That just upped the turn on for us. He unzipped my pants, and slid his hand between my legs, and then just one finger inside. His other hand was up my shirt when he unhooked my bra for better access. I slid my hand down his pants, and proceeded to rub him until he pushed me down and pressed my face into his crotch. He took himself out of his pants, and put his cock in my mouth. I sucked him until he came, and I was wetter than I had been in a long time. I think it was the possibility of getting caught that was so intoxicating. After that, we took lunch together in the stairwell of the building, and we always came back smiling and walking funny (if you know what I mean). That man could eat pussy better than any man I had ever been with. I never failed to come at least once, usually twice especially if I could hear people that may or may not come up there and find us. We did get caught once, I think. It was payday, and a night custodian came to pick up her check early in the morning. He had his his hand in my unzipped pants and was fingering me when she walked in. Neither one of us was paying much attention to anything except what we were doing, but fortunately I have good peripheral vision, saw her, and jumped about ten feet away while zipping up my pants, but I knew we had been busted. It was the only time we were caught, and damn, if that didn't make me horny for lunch or a smoke break upstairs in the storage rooms. Even after I no longer worked there, we met at parks, and fucked in his van. But it was that first touch of his calloused hands on my nipples that finally did me in. I was in for the long run whether we were caught and fired or not. I didn't care, he didn't care. All I wanted was for him to suck my nipples and lick my pussy until she dripped, and suck him until he came. I think my boss knew we were more than friends, but he could never prove it. It is the "Art of Not Getting Caught." I still get turned on thinking about our "affair." Just writing about it makes me wet. But, that isn't hard to do......