Hi erotica lovers. My name is Susan. Well not really, but I REALLY am married to John (not his real name either). We really do exist as a real life couple but most everything you are reading is fantasy born from our overactive imagination and sexual urges. So you will know John actually owns the company that is fictionalized in the story and I work for him. We met there, fell in love, and the rest as they say is history. I won’t tell you what major city the office is in or what kind of company it is, but the office set up that’s portrayed is basically our real office arrangement. It was John’s idea to lunge into this frenzy of keyboard sexual fantasy based on elements of our real life. When I pointed out to John that someone might actually surf the net, find our stories and put two and two together he dismissed the danger by saying that we would just deny that we had anything to do with it and demand publicly that whoever was spewing out such filth stop at once. With enough righteous indignation he said we wouldn’t have any trouble skirting the issue. John’s the boss so who am I to argue with him, even if he is a dumb fuck sometimes. Actually he’s a good fuck most of the time and sometimes a great fuck.

With that said, John created the character Susan based on his image of me. Most of John’s character portrayals are reasonably close to the real life person with just enough jumbled to throw people off the trail. I am actually somewhere near 36 and blond, but of course I am not divorced as he indicates. John really is in the 55 year old range, give or take. I’ll let you guess. The two “daughters” are not based on my real life daughters (I don’t have any kids) but they are based on real life twins that John and I met at a bar one night while at a convention. We spent the evening with them discussing all the stereotypical “twin” scenes that men dream about. They claimed to be strippers although I placed them closer to another profession. In real life they were probably about 24 or 25 but John decided to make them 18 for his own sick reasons.

So boys and girls, here we go with my “female” version of Work Related Fringe Benefits, Part 1 (FV).
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My name is Susan and I work for a really sexy man in his fifties named John. I’m 36 years old, divorced, and I have two twin daughters, Tiffany and Amber, who are 18 years old. In my opinion I’m a fairly attractive woman and I base that on the attention I get when I go out at night and the looks I get from men around our office complex. I’ve got decent tits, thanks to a little enhancement a few years ago. Funny, that word “tits”. Most women I know refer to them as “boobs” or “boobies”, something more feminine than “tits”. Tits are what grow on animals. Maybe that’s the connection for a man and why they like to refer to women’s breasts as “tits”. Ok then, I’ve got nice tits. And I think I have really nice legs if you don’t mind me bragging but it takes a lot of work in the gym to keep that muscle tone just right to catch a man’s eye and then twist his head around for an encore when you walk by. Most men tell me that I have a perfectly shaped derriere. I think that’s usually code for “May I stick something in there?” but it’s still flattering to hear a man say it. My twin daughters look better than I do and they’re lucky to have nice natural boobs, I mean “tits” that draw a lot of attention. Everything about the “twins”, as most of my friends refer to them, is so 18 year old ‘ish. It’s sickening really. I used to have those “throw on some shorts, pull on an old t-shirt top, whisk your hair back and watch your boyfriend get a hard on” looks. Let’s just say they’re a handful. The girls, I mean, not there… oh, forget it. Growing up essentially without a father figure in the picture they became sexually active early on, but then it seems most kids today do so earlier than my generation did.

My best friend Debbie works with me at the same company. Debbie is 43, has beautiful dark hair and dark eyes. She’s just a doll. Debbie could be a movie star with her looks. She’s got a great figure as well, a great personality, and she’s horny all the time. (Don’t ask me how I know this.) Debbie’s husband is usually away on business during the week so she and I go out a lot for happy hour after work to blow off a little steam. I really look up to her and admire her a lot, as do all the girls in the office. And there are a lot of us to girls around, eleven in fact. I think John only hires women because he’s actually a bit shy around them and having an office full of women allows him the opportunity to stretch his legs a bit, well at least the middle one! But when John really does get to know a woman he can be a real charmer. He’s caring, funny, a good listener, and very easy on the eyes. John’s married though and that complicates things a bit. He and his wife live in a condo not far from the office and if she were to walk into the office at the wrong time, well, let’s not linger on that thought.

Today was the first time since I started working here that things between John and I took the turn I had been hoping for, although for the first half of the day it didn’t seem like I was going to be on the receiving end of the object of my desire. I’d been aware that John seemed to have an interest in me. He was always talking to me about my progress on the job and seemed to linger in discussions on business topics longer than necessary as if to just “be with me” longer, but I never seemed to get a spark going long enough to start a fire. Occasionally, John would compliment me on my dress or my hair, but it never seemed flirty or sexual, just polite banter. This guy is really slow, I always thought to myself. So when John asked Debbie out to a private lunch without any of the rest of us being invited I got a bit jealous, maybe even downcast. Debbie took him to her favorite local spot which I knew was a quiet, dark, sort of romantic restaurant. Things didn’t seem to be going in my direction. Debbie outranked me at the company and it was beginning to look like she might get the first “raise” out of John.

When they returned from lunch Debbie came over to my desk and I could tell she really wanted to talk. She and John had been gone quite a while and I was slightly afraid of what I might hear if she started talking, but there wasn’t going to be any stopping her. The worst thing a girl can hear is a detailed recap of how her best friend lured the man she had picked out for herself into the sack.