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An email from Ruby
07-15-2011, 11:41 PM
Post: #1
An email from Ruby
It was about three years ago when Ruby and I(Roja) first met. We were working together in an office, sharing a desk. Our boss spent most of his time out of the office usually on business meetings. He never said exactly where he went but he told us that he knew he could trust us to get on with the work. Ruby and I didn’t mind this at all, so we never asked where he was going. Since Ruby and I were the only employees, with the boss out of the picture we could relax.

The work was fairly mundane, answering the phone and filing, stuff like that. I thought Ruby was so beautiful with her long black hair, slim waist and perfect breasts. I still do. I have to keep my hair short because it goes straggly if I grow it long, but hers is thick and hangs heavy on her shoulders. I am bigger than Ruby – all over, including my breasts. I’m not overweight but I do feel gawky in comparison to Ruby. She says I shouldn’t worry, she likes the way I look.

The best thing about Ruby, though, is the ease with which we can talk to each other. Often there were quiet periods at work, and this was when we would have our talks. At first, our conversation was limited to simple things like where we were both brought up, what our parents were like, what our favourite books and films were. Ruby told me that she had had a really unhappy childhood, her father was an alcoholic and her mother was too wrapped up in her own troubles to give Ruby the attention that every child needs and deserves.

Ruby is a survivor though. Rather than become introverted and unsure of herself, as many might have done in that situation, she emerged from her piteous upbringing with an independent spirit, a sharp wit and a keen sense of humour. She once told me that if she hadn’t been able to laugh about it, she would have had to cry. I loved her for that. Hers was a real contrast to my own middle-of-the-road background. Cushioned from the evils of the world by my own parents’ respectability and moralistic attitude, I left home to get married at the age of twenty-one knowing very little and possessing a naivety that was so profound as to be almost shocking. I know it’s difficult to imagine in today’s climate of sexual liberation, but the first time I saw a man’s naked body was on my wedding night. At the time Ruby and I met, I had been married for ten years and had never had sex with anyone other than my husband. I’m ten years older than Ruby, but it feels as if she has twenty years more sexual experience than me.

Ruby and I got really close, as you might have guessed. It was a few months after we started working together that our conversation gradually became more intimate. It wasn’t long before we started swapping stories of our sexual experiences. My sexual history is boring in comparison to Ruby’s. Hers is wild and fascinating and I get aroused listening to her talk. Sometimes I wonder if her stories are completely true, but I never voice these doubts. I have a feeling that if I did, it would spoil it somehow.
One Friday afternoon, just before Christmas, the phones were exceptionally quiet. We had finished the work for the week and tidied the office up. There really was nothing left to do. I put the kettle on, made us both a coffee and we sat at our chairs and began to talk.

“Tell me one of your stories Ruby. Please?” I asked, smiling. As I said it, I felt my pussy contract slightly, as if in anticipation of what was to come. I tightened the muscles, enjoying the feeling.

“Ok then,” answered Ruby, with a mischievous look on her face. “I’ll tell you about something that happened to me quite a few years ago, when I was job-hunting.” Ruby suddenly blushed.

“What’s the matter?” I asked her. “You look embarrassed.”

“Well,” she replied, “it’s just that this is one of my favourites. Sometimes, when I want to treat myself, I open a bottle of wine and curl up on the sofa in front of the fire. I shut my eyes and I sort of relive it in my mind.”

“Is it a really sexy story?” I asked. “It must be, because you’re blushing. You don’t usually blush.”

“Yes it is,” she said. “Really sexy – I usually finger myself and make myself cum while I’m thinking about it.”

My pussy throbbed when she said that. I squirmed involuntarily on my chair, realising that my pussy was getting wet just listening to her.

“I’ll tell you in the way that I remember it,” she said. “I like to imagine that it’s happening to me here and now.” Ruby was still flushed, but I have a feeling that this was not because she was embarrassed, but rather because she was aroused – just like me.

“It’s about an interview I went to once,” she began. “When I get there, there are three people on the panel, two men and a woman. They are sitting on one side of an office, in a semi-circle. The office has a couple of desks at the end, with a computer and telephone on each one, and a tray containing an assortment of papers on a small table which is positioned between the desks. Alongside of one wall there are a couple of filing cabinets. There’s not much else in the room, which is fairly spacious, just a couple of arty abstract paintings on the walls.

“I sit down on a chair at the other side of the room to the interviewers, facing them. I’m wearing a smart business suit, but for some reason I decided not to wear any panties that day. I didn’t think any one would notice and I liked the feeling of the air on my pussy.

“The three interviewers introduce themselves as John, Paul and Sue. They explain that they like to use first names and that theirs is not a formal company. I can remember thinking that they couldn’t really be so informal; otherwise they wouldn’t all be wearing business suits. Anyway, they go on to ask the usual questions, you know the sort, about name, address and all that.

“After a while, John asks me if I’d mind unbuttoning my blouse. You can imagine how surprised I am. Isn’t that an unusual request? But the thought of it arouses me, and you know how much I like new sexual experiences.” Ruby laughed then and looked straight at me, knowing that I would understand completely what she meant.
I looked back into her eyes and laughed with her, feeling a surge of affection for her. She was sitting there so unselfconsciously, telling one of the hottest stories I have ever heard.

“So I unbutton,” she continued, “starting from the top and working down. I do it really slowly, as if I am performing for them, each button that I undo exposes a little more of my protruding breasts. I unstuck my blouse out of my skirt and open it. Unbuttoning my blouse like that, with three people watching me – it really turned me on, Sarah. I was amazed by how turned on I was.”

Listening to Ruby speak, I could feel my nipples straining against the inside of my bra. I was really aroused now and brushed my hands over the outside of my blouse, letting them linger for a moment on the sensitive areas. I was trying to look as if I was merely smoothing my clothes. For some reason, I didn’t want her to know how turned on I was.

“So I sit there for a while in that office, with its filing cabinets, computers and papers; my blouse unbuttoned all the way and my pink nipples showing through the skimpy black fabric that is barely covering them. They feel so sensitive and I can’t resist slipping my hands up, stroking and pulling on them through the material. The interviewers ask me a few more questions and I answer them as best I can, given the situation. Funnily enough, I can’t remember what the questions were.” She laughed again.

I love the way she managed to find humour in her story while still being really aroused. I am different: when I am aroused, I find it difficult to laugh about it. All my attention turns inwards, to my throbbing wet pussy, my hard nipples and the churning in my belly. My mouth falls open and I have a certain glazed expression, as if I am entering another world.

“What happened next?” I asked, trying to maintain my composure. “How long did you sit there like that?”

“It felt like ages, Sarah,” she said. “It was driving me wild. Then, just when I think I might to have to beg one of them to touch me, Paul stands up, walks towards me and puts his hand inside my bra. I think to myself ‘Oh my God, this is lovely.’ His hand feels so good cupping one of my breasts and flicking over the nipple with his thumb. But then he slips it out and I am so desperate for him to replace it, I can hardly stand it.

“He asks if I would mind taking off my bra, before walking slowly backwards to his chair, as if he can’t take his eyes off me. The bulge in his trousers is really obvious, as if his dick is bursting to be let out. I can’t tell you how turned on this makes me; my clit feels like its bursting too and I can feel the dampness of my aching pussy. When he sits down, I take off my blouse and put my hands around my back. I unclip my bra and let it slide down to the floor.” Ruby paused, as if she was relishing the memory.
“Go on,” I said. While Ruby had been talking, I had begun to stroke my own nipples through my clothes without realising it, as if I was identifying with her story. Well that much was true: I soon stopped caring whether or not Ruby knew how turned on I was. I was loving it.

“I am completely topless now,” she continued, “with just my business skirt on and no panties, while they keep on with the interview. I carry on fondling my breasts and tweaking my nipples, almost forgetting where I am, it feels so good. I am so turned on by now that I open my knees slightly and wriggle my hips forward in the chair, unaware that I am doing it. I notice everyone’s eyes look down and realise that they can see my pussy, which I trimmed that morning.”

Ruby pulled on her own nipples now, while she was talking, as if she felt she had been given license by the fact that I was pulling on mine. She unbuttoned her blouse and slipped her hands up inside her bra and I realised that she was tweaking her own bare nipples with her fingers. I mimicked her actions, getting really carried away now.
She went on: “I can see the interviewers look at each other, and then at my breasts with the nipples so erect, and nod approvingly. Imagine my delight when John stands up and walks towards me, stoops down and slides his hands up the inside of my thighs, pushing my knees wide apart. I push my skirt up round under my ass, so that my legs can spread really wide. He looks into my eyes and smiles while he places a hand on my pussy, teasing my lips and clit for a while before letting one finger enter me. I let out a moan when he does this. I am completely losing control by this time. His finger slides in my pussy so easily, nearly sending me over the edge, but I hold back, knowing that there is more to come.”

Ruby took her hands off her breasts, removed her blouse and unclipped her bra. One hand returned to the nipple it had been paying attention to, and the other slipped slowly up the inside of her own thighs, lifting her skirt up and sliding down inside her panties. The sight of her doing that nearly made me cum and I found myself unable to hold back from copying her actions. By this time, we were both sitting next to each other, each naked from the waist up and each stroking her own pussy with one hand and a nipple with the other. I rubbed my fingers around my wet lips and clit and could see that Ruby was doing the same. I lifted my hips up and wriggled out of my panties, so that my hand was freer to move around. Ruby did likewise.

“Keep going Ruby,” I mumbled, easing my fingers into my pussy. “What happens next?”

“Well, then Paul and Sue stand up too, and I notice that Paul is stroking himself. I think it must have been painful to keep that bulge inside his trousers for long – his cock is really hard. Sue is panting as she slips her jacket and skirt off. She isn’t wearing a blouse, just a formal jacket, with a skimpy red and black bra underneath, and matching panties. I have never been with a woman before and I’m surprised at my own reaction. I keep thinking well, I can’t get anymore turned on than I am now, but then something happens and I do. Get really more turned on, I mean. Especially when I see that Sue is standing there watching, with her hand inside her panties, rubbing herself.

“Paul comes towards me and holds his dick over my face. I automatically lift my head back and lick all round the tip, holding his balls in my hands, gently squeezing them. Paul carries on stroking, holding his dick over my tongue so I can flick it and run my lips over it, when Sue takes John’s hand away from my pussy and bends forward, putting her head in-between my legs. I can feel her tongue exploring every inch of my pussy, all round my lips and clit and I can taste the saltiness of Paul’s precum. It drives me wild, making me thrust uncontrollably into Sue’s face. John has been watching this, rubbing his cock in his hand, but now he stands behind Sue and pulls her panties down to her knees. I hear her moan as he enters her from behind and she tongues me faster, sending thrills up my body.”

I became silent then: totally engrossed in her story, rubbing around my clit and inserting two fingers into my dripping pussy. I thought about how sexy she was, talking and fingering herself and I could feel that I was on the edge of a massive orgasm. I had to stop fingering myself then – Ruby hadn’t finished the story and I didn’t want to cum until the end. I couldn’t describe how much willpower it took not to bring myself over the edge. I just sat there, playing with my nipples and squeezing my pussy muscles tight, trying to slow down the orgasm.

Ruby carried on, her voice becoming sort of husky and choked. “My skirt is pushed up to my waist. Paul is fucking my mouth now and Sue is rubbing my clit with her tongue while she holds onto my breasts, teasing my nipples with her fingers. I can see that John is thrusting into her pussy from behind, holding her hips and pulling her towards him. I am in that wild, frenzied place that you only visit in those seconds before orgasm, when I feel Paul spurting into my mouth. Sue is moaning while she is licking me and I would be screaming, if it weren’t for the fact that my mouth is full of Paul’s sperm.”

I knew that I couldn’t hold back for much longer and I suddenly experienced an uncontrollable urge to touch Ruby’s pussy myself, to finger her until she came. I pulled her hands away from her breast and pussy and placed them on my own, before placing both my hands full on her breasts, fondling them and circling her nipples with my fingers as she talked. Ruby let out a moan and spread her legs really wide. I was moaning too and felt the orgasm begin to take hold of me as Ruby began circling and rubbing my clit with her fingers. I moved my hand down and did the same to her. It was driving me wild to think that we were both doing the same thing to each other and both on the brink of cumming.
Ruby carried on: whispering now, sometimes faltering, her sentences coming out in short bursts. “John seems out of control,” Ruby moaned again, “I realise that he is cumming too, at the same time as Paul.”

She wasn’t whispering now, but shouting – unaware of the sound of her own voice. “I feel the orgasm take hold of me and give in to it.” Ruby and I carried on rubbing each other, faster and more intently. “Paul pulls out of my mouth and I shout out with pleasure while Sue flicks her tongue around my clit.”

At this point, I moved my face towards Ruby and placed my mouth on hers, our tongues flicking together, probing, as if we were sucking each other’s clits and pussy. We kept on fingering and French kissing, pressing our writhing bodies into each other, playing with each other’s nipples while still fingering each other’s clits until we both let the orgasm take over. It was so intense, and the contractions of the orgasm seemed to last for ages before subsiding. We both slowed down and sat for a while, side by side on the chairs, with our arms wrapped around each other.

After a while, I couldn’t help but ask, “What happened? Did you get the job?”
“Well,” said Ruby, “I pick my bra and top up, put them back on, straighten my clothes and say goodbye. They said they would be in touch, they had other people to interview but I was the hottest candidate yet.”

“Did you get the job though Ruby?” I persisted with my question.

Ruby laughed. “I might tell you about it one day, but its five o’clock now and it’s time to go home.”

She never did tell me whether she got the job or not, even though we still meet up as often as we can to carry on with our stories.

Well thanks ruby for ur email . Ladies u can share ur stories with me on my mail xxxxxxxxxxx

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