Caught My Receptionist

About five years ago I took on a lady in her early forties named Kate to work in my small office as secretary and receptionist. She had a pleasant personality, was divorced with a teenage son, and was seldom idle, at least when I was around. On several afternoons during the week I found myself working back after hours and sometimes I would pay Kate a bit of overtime to stay behind and help me get the work done. I was considerate enough to pick evenings when her son would be playing sport and she would not have to get home early or even collect him, as his friends' parents kindly offered to do that for her.

My office was just off the reception area and I could usually hear her talking to anyone who walked in, typing or doing whatever. This evening when all was quiet I thought I could hear a rhythmic squeaking sound coming from her chair and the odd sigh escaping from her. It suddenly flashed across my mind that she might be touching herself, and the thought of her doing it to herself turned me on. I had no proof of it, of course, so I waited till I heard it again, then stepped out of my office. Kate was at her desk, studying some papers I had given her. She was sitting hard up against the desk, closer to it than normal, but I couldn't see any further than that. She did not turn to look at me but when I spoke to her she seemed nervous and was blushing slightly, but I didn't take her up about this, just saying I'd need another twenty minutes in my room, to which she agreed.

I returned to my office but very quietly left my door slightly unlatched, which made it possible to look through the tiny gap without her noticing. And I was right! Once I was gone, I could see her leaning back in her chair with one hand in her lap and her skirt hiked up a bit. With the door slightly ajar I could hear her gasps better too. What was I to do? I quietly closed the door and sat down to think about it.

I didn't do anything about it that evening, but a week later another opportunity came for both of us to work back, to which she readily agreed. After about half an hour, I could hear her chair squeaking, very quietly this time. Maybe she oiled it, but there was no doubt as to what she was doing, touching herself while pretending to be working. I asked her to make us some coffee and invited her to lock the front doors and sit down. I was feeling so aroused by now, I didn't know how to say it to her.

We started by discussing work and then I looked at her and said 'Look Kate, I know what you do to yourself out there and I want you to know I'm not angry with you for doing it.' She blushed and pretended not to know what I was referring to, but I said, more or less, 'I know you can't help touching yourself and I do the same when I'm alone, so please don't take it the wrong way.' Kate apologized, then we talked about it a bit further and it turned out her ex had been stressing her out a bit lately. I invited her to confide in me about these things as she seemed a bit lonely, and she did and felt better for it. Then I asked her would she feel offended if she walked in on me jerking off? Kate smiled for the first time that evening, and replied, 'Not after what you've just told me.'

Our conversation got a bit more intimate after that and I invited her to lean back in her chair and tell me about what turned her on to make her masturbate. I leaned back in my chair behind my desk, closed my eyes and deliberately put my hand down my trousers in front of her, hoping it would turn her on. When I opened them again, Kate had closed hers but was leaning back in the chair with her legs wide apart, busily fingering herself through floral cotton panties. This was too much and I decided to show her my penis, suggesting she might like to remove her skirt and panties. I made sure everything was locked up outside, then Kate and I both stripped from the waist down and had a good old session in front of each other. Kate had a nice hairy pubic bush which also helped, and when she finally came with loud cries, I stood up and blew my load onto her thighs. After that my legs were so weak from the excitement I had to sit down.

That was the first of many after-hours encounters with Kate. During the day she was a model secretary, except when she deliberately left her panties off and squatted with her legs open to tease me. A couple of times I put my hand up between her legs when she was standing on a chair, and felt her naked and wet there. On a few occasions we watched each other pee, and discovered this was a turn-on for both of us. But mostly I remember the way we would discuss business at the end the day, while exposing and masturbating in front of each other as if it was all perfectly normal. No one else ever found out.