I'll never forget what happened on my last day as head of department.

My secretary, Debbie, was very flirtatious. I remember walking in to her adjoining office, standing over her desk, and looking straight down her dress to see her breasts and nipples. (The dress wasn't low-cut or ostentatiously sexy, but the neck opened if she leaned forward.) Her breasts were smallish, very white in contrast to her tan, and beautiful. She was not wearing a bra, but was wearing a smile. I probably forgot what I was there for. I was not confident enough to respond, or to judge what was appropriate behavior, so I said nothing although she must have known I was flustered. Debbie enjoyed that sort of thing.

She was a redhead, and kept herself in great shape (through swimming, I later discovered). I found her very sexy, and had sexual fantasies about her. I imagined that one day I worked up the courage to be assertive, and asked her to come into my office and lock the door. "Now take your panties off and sit on my desk." I would proceed to give her cunnilingus and massage her g-spot with my finger, until she came in a shuddering orgasm, and was very visibly flushed. Then I'd just say "That's all for now. You may go now."

No such thing happened, of course. Indeed, I think I never said a flirtatious word to her over our years working together. So a massive amount of sexual tension built up in me (without my realizing it at the time). All of which spilled out when I took her to lunch at a nice restaurant on the river on my last day as Head of Department. I recall us getting in to the back seat of a taxi to return, so I think that was arranged to permit us to drink, and that we knocked off a bottle of wine, maybe even two.

This was the last day we would work together, which doubtless freed up some of the constraints I normally felt. Anyway, Debbie really appreciated the gesture, and at some point, near the end, when the alcohol had worked its magic on me, I mustered the nerve to tell her that I wasn't as conservative (and even boring) as she probably thought I was. Indeed, I said, I'd recently presented my wife with a portfolio of photos of myself in the nude. (I mean I was nude in the photos, although I also may have been when I presented them!)

Debbie was suitably impressed, and we doubtless gossiped and flirted a bit in the subsequent conversation. (I can't remember all the details.) It was later, I think, in the cab, just before we got back to the campus, that I told her I had an identical copy of the folder in my office, and asked if she'd like to see it. She said she'd love to. My heart was pounding at this point.

I had a little business to attend to when I got back, so I gave her the folder to look through at her desk. This was incredibly risky, but she was a trustworthy secretary. Perhaps an hour later, maybe half that, she'd booked uninterrupted time together, and came in to my office, and closed the door. She said she was very surprised about how good the photos were, and how good I looked naked, and how well hung I was. She said that looking through them had made her very hot. I recall she used the words "horny" and "wet".

I should explain that the photos were the best of maybe a hundred or two that I took on lunch breaks at my nearby home, using a 35mm SLR camera with a telephoto lens, and with a timer on a short setting allowing me to rush to my position before my full or partial erection subsided. Many were taken in the late afternoon light, which gave my skin a warm glow. They started with a picture of me standing on the lawn, shirtless, taking my jeans down, turning to the camera. A bum shot. But I was nude in all of the following shots, most of which were full frontal, partly because they were easier to arrange that way. In most of them, my cock was fat and flushed from sexual excitement, but not hard.

The content got progressively stronger, with a bunch of photos showing me with a full erection. I masturbated to prepare for these. I remember one where I sat on my heels on a footstool, with my erection pointing at the camera. I was so excited that I came when I heard the shutter click. (But in no picture was I shown masturbating or otherwise engaged in sexual activity.)

My personal favorite picture showed me lying on a banana lounge, with my body sun-dappled, and a very hard vertical erection, looking especially large because of the foreshortening of the lens with my feet closest to the camera. I remember I had a cock ring on, but that it was not visible, so my erection was as impressive as it could be. The last photo was a close-up showing just my flushed cock and balls, larger than life size. My wife told me this was her sister's favorite picture. She had shown her the album on a visit, and actually left it with her for a few days, and I hear she showed it to her best friend. All of this excited me to no end.

Anyway, Debbie proceeded to discuss each photo with me, telling me what she thought of it or liked about it. This was an incredibly erotic experience for me. I am very aroused just recalling it. Her favorite picture was of me sitting balanced on a footstool, with my legs and arms extended out and up in a V-formation, with my hands on the soles of my feet. My cock was plump. She said she loved it because of the sexual possibilities it suggested.

That night in bed I reluctantly decided it would be too risky to have sex with my wife, because I was so turned on, and she knew I had lunch with Debbie that day. She might put two and two together. But I was out of my mind with lust, and slowly masturbated for an hour or so, recalling the events, while she slept beside me. I remember when I came, the first spurt hit me in the face. It was intensely and memorably pleasurable.

Debbie told me that she took control that night in bed and fucked her husband's brains out; she said it was the best sex they'd had for ages. She saw me in a different light after that, and we would occasionally have a chat over coffee, before she left not long after to move to a different city.