box of treats #5- share the love

(continued from “box of treats #4- our secret”….

“As I pulled up my zip she cupped my face in her hands and pressed her lips softly against mine, a short kiss, moist, smiled as she pulled back placing an index finger against her own lips saying, our secret, turned, and lightly walked away.”)

I thought a lot about what had already happened here since I’d started my temp job here at the sorting warehouse, things which I would never in a million years have imagined were part of the job description, and technically weren’t.

From the first encounter watching Gillian and mystery man secretly in a very up close intimate encounter in a quiet nondescript corner of the warehouse, to then have my own sexually-charged masturbatory moment with a total stranger (later discovering was mystery man) in a storeroom resulting in a most intense orgasm, and then only the following week find myself again with mystery man himself, unplanned, getting exactly what I’d watched Gillian receive in the very same spot weeks before. As if that wasn’t enough, in a weak moment with the memories of those previous experiences catching me off-guard I was tempted to pleasure myself in the same corner, during which Gillian appeared, out of the blue, to lovingly give me a helping hand- literally!

I had to wonder maybe how many other girls she and mystery man had seduced in such a way, and to, previously, taken under their wing and into their secret world. I’m far from being an innocent in what’s transpired up until now, we’re just lucky not to have been caught and fired, but I had the impression that they, being permanent staff here, knew exactly what they were doing and when and where it was safe to do so. The thrill from the risk of having sex at work and getting away with it is, after all, intensely attractive; fantasy become reality in the best possible way.

How do I all too easily find myself in such situations, or do they find me? I’m never too sure, though in truth, I’m not complaining.

Suddenly, I was back, back in the now, my attention which had drifted momentarily, clawed back to the present by music from an iPod. I attempted to shake off my cloud of reverie which couldn’t have been more than a second or two but like a sleeping dream felt much longer than it really was. Here I was, stood on a four foot square wooden box in the very same warehouse in the very same corner where all this began weeks ago and now it was my last day here, end of late shift, sometime after 11pm as per a note surreptitiously given to me by Gillian when we saw each other earlier which read: “After shift, 11pm, meet. Same place. Our secret”.

In what was probably a dizzy haze of excitement and expectation I found my way here, my body taking over when my mind had been in two minds. After my last experience with her I found it impossible not to do what the note said. As I read the note my lips formed a silent “yes”.

I guess my body knows best?

 “Our secret” was what she whispered at our last inadvertent tryst. Madness though it was, it didn’t take me long to say to myself, yes.

Now I’m here, right here, right now, looking down upon mystery man, and it seemed, a second guy who I’d never seen before. Both were looking up watching me. Gillian? Where was she? Behind me. No, I hadn’t just stumbled into a pantomime, she was on the box too, against my back pretty much, and we were dancing, sort of, swaying more like. Our bodies timed to the beats. Their eyes appeared encouraging. I felt self-conscious. What was I doing up here?

I glanced around at her and did a double-take. She was just in her underwear, bra and knickers, and socks, I took particular note of the socks, which might seem strange, but they were shocking pink. I noticed I wasn’t wearing my boots anymore. Of course, I’d kicked them off earlier, I was though at least clothed otherwise, regulation warehouse work gear: blue combat-style trousers and blue polo shirt.

My little daydreaming had momentarily left me slightly disoriented.

Gillian’s hands rested on my hips, it felt good, comforting, ecstatic. The music felt good, despite having an audience which I’m not used too, not such an attentive one in such circumstances. I was about to ask Gillian what she was doing being half-undressed, where were her clothes, when her hands moved up my shirt pulling it up with them until my bra appeared from underneath. I raised my hands to halt her progress but she continued pushing past my meagre protest. My question got lost in the material as she pulled my shirt over my bra and over my head. She got me semi-topless, without a second thought, in this warehouse late at night, in front of two almost drooling men. I still had on my full-cup black bra though.

She whispered, we should give them a show, just for fun, being the end of my time here and all, what have I got to lose.

She clearly wasn’t asking and just assuming my consent, but then again, as I didn’t seem to be objecting, I clearly wasn’t, so I must have been up for it. I didn’t have the same level of confidence she clearly had, nor boldness. She was amazing, beautiful, her flame-red hair, mid-length in a kind of bob and for such pale skin she seemed to glow. Apart from her amazing body what truly made her attractive was her obvious personable nature, her professionalism with work things (that is, apart from these little indiscretions), and her obvious charisma making her hard to say no too.

I don’t even know what time it was by now as her hands slipped around my waist to ensure we were both in synch. It felt electric, the music almost physically moving us. Her hands freely glided up and down my sides, sometimes brushing my bra, my breasts, at which each time I shuddered. It was bizarre being watched but at the same time added a level of arousal to everything, and every touch. Then to my surprise she was holding out her own bra having taken it off without me noticing, waving it at the guys watching keeping her breasts concealed pressed up against my back. I felt her breath on my neck. She was teasing them, or me, or all of us. She dropped it to the floor. Mystery man picked it up and hooked it over his wrist, almost like taking ownership.

She stepped to the right onto an identical box now in full reveal to them, and to me, just in her red knickers, and socks, bright pink. She carried on dancing seeming to enjoy the attention, their eyes, their grins. I kept swaying slightly and couldn’t take my eyes off her either, her form curves, very proud nipples and large aureoles, pale against pale skin and faint echoes of freckles everywhere. I was also stunned at her boldness. She was crazy!

Or, she was horny as hell. I admit by now I was, although not crazy enough to strip half naked, even though I was shirtless. She danced most seductively while mystery man placed his hands on her ankles and moved them up and down her bare legs not quite reaching her upper thighs. I thought it was time I should get down off the box, at which she seemed to notice my hesitancy and gestured at my trousers. I couldn’t work out what she was suggesting which her smile and nod and raise of one eyebrow. Then I did as she silently mouthed, your turn, take them off. She referred to my trousers, as though to say, I have so now it’s your turn, and I felt she wasn’t accepting a no.

At first I thought, no way, but even just her glance was so persuasive I found my fingers just undoing the top button and then the zip. Now I felt self-conscious, and dizzy, especially four feet off the ground in full view. I looked across as if to say, there, I done it. She smiled back, shook her head with her eyes moving from my waist to my ankles. In other words, no it wasn’t enough, all the way off, just like her. Again, I could tell that no was not an option.

I opened them up, all their eyes were on me, even mystery man whose hands still played up and down her legs. I admit I was initially reluctant. Gillian looked at mystery man and nodded at me, he came over and stood directly below me, such a weird sensation. He reached up and hooked his fingers around the waistband and pulled gently. I held them but felt them giving way regardless. I glanced at her and she smiled and kept swaying to the music. I surrendered my hold and away they came from my hips and my upper thighs, down until I had no choice but to step one leg at a time out of them leaving me stood on that box in just my leaf-printed bikini knickers and bra. Oh yes, and my socks, not pink, just simple black. Now I felt self-conscious and knew I was blushing, quite possibly across my entire body.

Gillian kept dancing now more seductively than ever and I knew I couldn’t get away with those kind of moves, she was way more sexy than me, so I just swayed the best I could, all things considered. I imagine this being what a table-dancer feels like: on show. I looked around now from this strange vantage point seeing through rows of shelving, all unequally stacked with different sized boxes and pallets, their sturdy orange metal frames. Most of the aisles were in semi or total darkness being there was no one down them and where we were was illuminated by large strip lighting way up high in the skeletal rafters.

When I got her note I thought it would be just me and her meeting. I did not expect anyone else and even though mystery man had crossed my mind I certainly hadn’t entertained the thought of another man who all the time just watched, swayed a little himself, gave approving nods and enjoyed suggestive glances with mystery man. I felt drawn along by the whole thing, unable to extricate myself now as we’d all come this far.

 All I felt I could do now was mimic Gillian, except she was still totally topless, I thankfully wasn’t and tried to turn my thoughts to as if I was wearing a bikini, that this is pretty much the same thing. I remember thinking, I was glad I’d shaved my armpits this morning.

Mystery man had returned to stroking Gillian’s legs while she danced. Then she said to me: bra. I looked over slightly puzzled. She repeated it this time raising both eyebrows: bra. It wasn’t a question, it was a command, again following her logic, I’d taken mine off now your turn. I shook my head and mouthed back, no way. She then said quite audibly, either I do it or she will come back and do it for me. She started to playfully chant, bra, bra, bra, off, off, off, over and over. Then both of the guys joined in. I still thought, no way, no chance, but felt I was letting her down, so, I reached around, stopped and thought again, this was crazy; all eyes now on me. Damn. I unhooked it and felt the shoulder straps come away and saw Gillian’s gaze reiterate a look that said, all the way off.

(continued in “box of treats #6- seconds”. . . . . . . )

© Emmaleela 2021


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