I sell insurance for a living, all kinds, and I think I do a pretty good job for my clients, not on them. They refer me often to their friends, so my self-confidence is, frankly, well-founded.

In our little southern town, I have a two-room, air-conditioned office on street level. This affords me comfort during the long, hot summers, and a good deal of walk-in trade with the public.

But one day this summer, the air conditioner broke, and, to add to my exasperation, my secretary wasn’t able to come in.

That afternoon, when the humidity and heat combined to make the office especially miserable, there came a slight tap on the door. I could tell through the sheers on my window that the outline was that of a woman, but I couldn’t really see her well. I opened the door, and as I did, I was treated to the sight of a young woman in her twenties, a sweet looking honey-blonde, with a very businesslike expression on her pretty face, and a nicely proportioned figure that would take first prize in any beauty contest.

She had on a wide-brimmed straw hat that matched her hot-pink, wraparound skirt, and a light-green jersey top, not strained by her ample bosom, but nicely adequate. White summer sandals and a handbag completed the suntanned vision’s first impression for me.

I asked her name and introduced myself. She said that she had seen my sign out front and that she had just had a minor fender bender and had auto insurance with my company. I asked to see her insurance I.D. card, and when she said she had lost it, I asked her to be seated. The chair she sat in was beside my desk, opposite my swivel chair, but near the wall. It is padded and reclines slightly.

I got right on the phone to our home office to verify her coverage with the company. They put me on hold. While I was waiting, I talked lightly with Lucy about her accident. She had been driving a long time that day and was obviously a little bushed from the travel; so she let herself lean back in the chair until it came to rest against the wall behind her. I, all the while, had a view of her long, tanned, beautiful legs and thighs. As she leaned back, her short wraparound skirt fell slightly open and just a hint of her lovely triangle, which was covered by white lace panties, now became barely visible.

I mentioned the heat of the day, and Lucy said her car’s cooling unit had also gone on the blink. As if this was my cue, I picked up the floor fan, which had been trained primarily on me, and redirected it on her. She thanked me for this courtesy and opened her legs up a little to allow the moving air to cool off her legs, thighs, and crotch. When I saw this happen, I asked her if she would like for me to move the fan a little closer. She said, “Yes, thank you,” so I did. This resulted in an even better reaction. She opened her wraparound skirt some. I didn’t move my glance from her well-exposed panties, but I did stand up — to allow her to see that I was getting hard. At this point, the home office came back on the phone to complete Lucy’s auto-coverage information. Then I began to go into some other business with the person on the line regarding a client’s insurance problems.

My glance darted back to Lucy for just a second to let her know I was going to be able to assist her, and she was smiling. My eyes fell to her lap and discovered she had opened the front of her wraparound skirt completely! Just sitting there, showing her white lace panties, with her legs spread open! I put my right hand over the receiver and asked her if she was more comfortable now, and she said almost inaudibly, “Yes.” She could tell that I approved of what she was doing, but to make this point clearer, I laid down my pen and took hold of my throbbing cock, which was straining to be liberated from my pants. She was looking right at me, so the effect was not missed.

I went back to the phone at this point to finish up some details and suddenly realized that Lucy had gotten out of her chair, stepped to the front door, and locked it with the inside latch. On the other side of the sheers, she flipped the “closed” side of the sign so that it faced the outside.

She turned, smiled sweetly at me, and, without a word, walked back into the inner office. I was obviously concentrating on her, got completely flustered, mumbled “Good-bye” into the phone, and hung up.

I followed her into the inner office. Closing the door, I saw her seated on the edge of the desk, with one leg thrown over the other, just enough to let me see her beckoning, pantied crotch. She looked at me seriously for a few moments, then tenderly grasped both of her breasts in her hands on the outside of her jersey top. At this point, her glance fell to the bulge at my crotch. “Do you like these?” she said, indicating her rounded mounds, which were partially covered by her gentle grasp. As my tongue flicked between my teeth to make sure I wouldn’t strangle for lack of air, she didn’t wait for my reply, and said, “I thought so.”

With that, she pulled off the top over her head and wham! I’d thought she was wearing a bra, but she wasn’t. Her breasts jiggled gently, and then they came to rest, so full and rounded and ripe-looking that I began to feel faint. But that was the last thing I wanted to do. She then beckoned me to her with her arms outstretched, and when I got to her, she knelt down directly in front of me. After peeling away my clothes without a word, she grasped my cock and balls in her hands and began to blow little, cooling bursts of air all over them. Then she tucked them between her breasts and jiggled back and forth like a belly dancer. It was sensational!

But sensing urgency on my part, she soon slipped off her skirt and lay down on the plush carpet, with her panties still on. “Chew ’em off,” she said. I knelt down, gently spreading her smooth golden thighs, and began to work at the white lace panties with my tongue and teeth. The odor of her crotch was the unmistakable scent of sweet, delicious honey and lovemaking. I licked and sucked and blew all over her crotch to the point where she was moaning and writhing all over the carpet.

It was only a matter of seconds before I was into her, riding and pushing her all across the carpet. She climaxed with, “Yes! Oh, yes!” I exploded into her almost right afterward.

We gradually descended together and began to help each other find our clothes. She said that she expected to be passing through in about a month.

It’s been 27 days now since she left the office. My regular clients, in the meantime, have remarked on how nicely the seven-foot hideaway sofa bed goes with my inner-office decor. I reply that it’s just something for the clients to relax on.