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One Copy or Two?

Sometimes overtime gets you more then you bargined for...
The job was running late.

One of the joys associated with working for a Printers. Customers always ask for the impossible or insist you sacrifice your precious family time when they forget a meeting.

Tonight was one of those nights.

I just happened to finish my last bag at the wrong time. My boss lept at the unexpected opportunity to offload a big problem. It's a Friday, with typical tight deadlines and my colleague had been struggling for hours.

So yours truely was left to carry the can.

"Shit," I muttered for the umpteenth time.

I was already dressed for my evening's excursion. Under loose jeans and baggy sweat top I was perfectly shaved. My wife loved me that way but the real reason was my dark body hair looked plain nasty in panties.

I was wearing a new stunning red set - a beautiful red bustier with satin and lace panels. A matching thong held my ugly man-bits all snuggly and the dearest red stockings with black double bows. My toes also had a fresh crimson coat. Heaven!

I was as horny as a bull in a field full of heffers.

A quick check of my second screen showed our trusty Xerox was happily churning away downstairs. What to do in the meantime? While my body tingled at being encased in luxurious naughteness?

Only one choice. I opened up the browser and popped onto one of my usual sites, in the hope that my friends had updated their gallery's.


My screen was filled with exquisite images of beautiful crossdressers. Shemales are stunning, but a great looking CD will always catch my eye. A T-girl I could never be.

I downloaded the best pics, covering my tracks as I went. The MD is really paranoid about 'his' machines being used for anything other then work. Unfortunately for him, I grew up in the micro age, so naturally know a few tricks.

Feeling confident, I decided to send the images directly to our second press. It's pretty easy to hide the little indiscretion, as I went to work on the hidden logs to remove any traces. After a minute or so it was done; the printouts would take a while longer.

Checking my watch I realised I had enough time to nip to the Ladies to spruce-up for the Club. Collecting my gym bag, I headed off down the corridor. I hated using the Gents, besides my destination always smells nicer!

I was adding lip gloss when I heard the loo door close. Startled I looked around. Oh god. All thoughts of tonight's anticipated fun left my mind in a flash. Sweeping up my things and carelessly dumping them back in the holdall, I gently eased open the door enough to look outside and listen. Nothing. Phew.

"Getting jumpy, hun." I tried to reassure myself.

Without another thought I went back to the desk, dropped my bag and headed downstairs.

The Xerox had finished at last, leaving me a good amount of time to get to Giselle's. I spun round to collect my sexy pics and nearly collapsed with fright.

"Evening," the engineer said.

Oh crap!

"Errrr...," was all I could struggle to say.

"I think these are yours?" he smiled holding out the incriminating sheets.

"Er...mmm..." I was like a stuck record.

"Red really suits you." he offered.

I simply stared;like a goldfish seeing a moggy's clawed paw dipping into it's bowl. Instinctively, I looked for an escape route.

"I'm being honest, honey!"

I slowly turned my eyes back to his face.

"Red?" I spluttered.

"When the saucy pics popped out, I guessed someone special must still be here. Your MD demanded cover in case the printer died. Something about life or death and we could stuff our contract where the sun don't shine." he smiled, "It looks like I was the lucky one as I had the keys." he finished, jingling them in front of me.

"Red?" I repeated.

"I saw you go into the Ladies," he said grinning, "I was a little intrigued so quietly peeked inside while you were adjusting things."


"Now if you don't want a little email finding its way to your boss, I would suggest you lie back and think of England."

He took a step forward, placed his hands on my hips and pulled my jeans down in one practiced movement.

"Mmmm. Pretty!" he exclamined smacking his lips and sinking to his knees.

"Wha..." I stammered.

Despite everything my body reacted. Shivering at his touch I looked down into his laughing eyes, oh he knew the effect he was having. His lips brushed my bulge, his hot breath finding its way through the lace with ease; tantalizing my already straining hardness.

"Please..." I mouthed silently.

His fingers brushed me, I whimpered. They moved to one side, slowly easing the fabric with them. He licked the now exposed shaft with agonising tenderness. Oh god! Please!

His mouth stopped at the head, his tongue taking small laps around the circumference. Then without warning he plunged my full length into his throat, making a funny humming sound.

"Fuck!" I cried, stumbling backwards.

Without missing a beat, his surprisingly strong hands griped my cheeks. Pulling me back toward his tonsils with confident insistence. His humming seemed to vibrate every single nerve, each one in turn begging for mercy.

"O...h...oh...g...god!" I screamed.

My cum exploded. After a seeming eternity, the spasming died down. He released me, somewhat grudgingly, slapping my backside in the process.

"That's better," he said, a little cum dripping slowly from the corner of his lips.

"Now if you need anything else," he winked, "Here is my card."

With a slight swagger, he bent to pick up his toolbox and strolled out of the service door; closing it behind him with a solid clunk.

Uncomprehending, I looked down at the card and then at the door, then back at the card totally lost for words.

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