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It's all for charity

The things some people will do for sponsorship...
I’m sitting at my desk, trying to get the sales figures done for my boss. The month end is always a busy time. So when Georgina from Human Resources approaches I keep my head down, hoping she’ll pass me by.

No such luck.

"Hi Danny," she says, putting a sheet of paper on the desk, so I don’t get a chance to pretend I’ve not noticed her. "I won’t keep you a moment. As you know, I’m doing a 10k sponsored run this weekend, and you usually sponsor me. But I can’t see your name on my sheet, so I was wondering…"

"Georgina, I’m a little busy right now, could this wait?" 

"Won’t take a sec. Just your name and the amount on here," she says, waving the sponsor form in my face.

"Okay, okay."

I pick up the form, put my name down, and put five pounds in the amount.

"Is that per kilometre? You need to tick that box." Georgina looks at me expectantly.

"Err, no, that’s for the whole run," I tell her.

She looks disappointed. “I was hoping to raise five hundred, with your contribution I’m still sixty five pounds short. Could you not give a little more? I’d be really grateful.”

"Seventy pounds is a lot of money. Just how grateful would you be for that much?" I say, trying to be flippant, hoping she'll leave me in peace.

She looks at me for a few seconds, then looks up and down the office. No one is taking any notice, as I say, month end and everyone is too busy with their own work. She puts her mouth near my ear, and whispers.

“I could be very grateful. Why don’t we discuss it private?”

She motions towards the empty office in the far corner. I look at her in surprise.

“Well,” I stammer, not knowing quite what to say, “If you think it’s, umm, worth my while, I could review that figure for you,” trying to make out I’m talking about work. Still, no one is listening.

I follow her over to the office, and she flicks the sign to ‘Occupied’ and closes the door behind me. Georgina is mid twenties, about 5 foot 4 inches tall, slim, auburn hair and freckles. She’s wearing a black skirt and a white blouse, typical office attire. All the men in the office fantasize about her.

The office blinds are drawn. A desk and two chairs make up the only furniture. She takes a seat, I sit back on the desk facing her.

"What exactly did you have in mind?" I ask her.

She pulls the chair forward until she is about eight inches away from me, and leans forward, her skirt sticks to the chair and rides up her legs, showing her white panties. Her head is level with my groin. She runs her right hand over the front of my trousers.

I’m already semi hard at the sheer excitement of the situation. Georgina slowly unzips my trousers and unbuckles my belt, pulling my trousers down almost to my knees. My cock is making a tent in my boxer shorts.

She bites her lip and looks up at me, her fingers popping the button on my shorts, letting my rampant cock slip out.

"Wow," she exclaims as my length is now on full display, "What’s that work out at? About ten pounds an inch?"

She holds my cock on the palm of her hand, weighing it, her tongue wetting her lips. My cock twitches in anticipation, filling with blood. It looks huge in her small hand.

Georgina takes a firm grip and slowly wanks up and down, all the while keeping her gaze on my face. Her mouth makes an O shape and she blows gently on my glans. I have never had a problem getting hard, and today is no exception.

I am rigid in her hand in seconds.

She bends forward a little more and darts her tongue out over the head of my cock. I put my hand out to touch her breast, but she bats my hand away, here eyes fixed on mine.

"Don’t you know that’s a disciplinary offence? I could have you sacked for that."

She continues to stroke my prick up and down, running her hand over the head, now coated with pre-cum. She gives me a look like the cat who got the cream, then leans forward and my cock disappears into her willing mouth. Her right hand caresses my shaft while her left hand goes under my boxers and she starts to knead my balls.

Her technique is good, taking me quite deeply in her mouth, then her lips pursing tightly around my shaft and almost losing contact at the tip as she moves back up my cock. Her hands continue their ministrations on my shaft and balls. Then she wraps both hands around my shaft, making a ring with her index fingers and thumbs, her hot mouth working just on the head.

Her tongue is all over it, working into the opening, flicking around the head, lapping at the frenulum, before her mouth engulfs me again, her lips keeping constant pressure and contact. Her hands rotate in opposite directions as she tightens her grip on my shaft, bringing me to the point of no return.

I grip the desk, pushing forward into her mouth. I have to bite my lip from groaning loudly as I erupt. My hips spasm as I empty my balls, spurt after spurt of hot cum filling her mouth. Her tongue works overtime to keep it all in, swallowing me down her throat. She softens her grip on me, pulling at me gently now, coaxing the last dribbles of spunk out of me as my cock deflates in her mouth.

I look down, the front of her panties are wet with her juices. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and pops my flaccid member back in my boxers, buttons me up and helps me pull up my trousers.

"So, shall I put you down for seventy pounds?" she pouts.

I laugh. “Georgina, you know we’re saving for a honeymoon. I’ll make it ten, any more and we’ll end up in Bognor!”

She laughs back, “I suppose you’re right. Are you still coming over tonight?”

I smile at her, “Of course, I can’t wait to get those wet panties off you and return the favour.”

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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