I was delighted to receive your note, John!

I was thinking about us in the company's executive meeting room with its leather-covered mahogany chairs, walnut-paneled walls and rich carpet. In this room, used only occasionally for board meetings, we had momentarily secluded ourselves with the door closed. I was wearing my gold wool skirt that Maria had custom tailored for me, my soft Kashmir lambs wool V-neck sweater, brown beige garter hose and high heels. I watch your eyes focus on my prominent pendulous bustline with my 40D side fullness supported by my lace and tricot Jodee bracups. I notice a delicious bulge develop in the pants of your Brooks Brothers suit as your eyes intently devour my bulging cleavage. You see my rich makeup, mascara, vivid red lipstick, pendant earrings, and bouffant hairdo. Your arms reach out and grasp me in a passionate embrace. Your fingers roam over my womanly derriere, feel the firmness of my Crownette side-zip open bottom girdle, my garter clasps and taut stocking tops. Your hand invites my fingers and glamorous red-enameled nails to unzip your fly and slip my hand inside. My fingers grasp your swollen manhood and gently squeeze . . . my fingers feel the shape of the head . . . mmmmmmmmm . . . LOVE to feel the shape of the head!! . . . I take out your sinewy shaft . . . you jut it out for me . . . PROUDLY!! . . . I squeeze a little, see the veins bulge . . . I begin to stroke it . . . but we don't have much time!! . . . our meeting is scheduled in a few minutes . . . I begin to stroke FASTER!! . . . hear my bangle bracelets jangle . . . see my fingers and red-enameled nails grip your shaft . . . now VIGOROUS STROKING!! . . . your body tenses . . . your juice spurts . . . SPURT after SPURT . . . BIG SPURTS!! . . . a puddle of cum prominently spots the boardroom carpet . . . I step on it with my foot . . . spread the cum with my high heel shoe . . . work it into the fibers of the carpet. Days and months later when we come into the executive boardroom we'll see the prominent carpet stain, a reminder of our passionate encounter.