After Hours

do you take milk

There were three of them. Three women I worked with that I was more than happy to look at when the opportunity came across.

But it's not like I'm a creep or anything. They all worked in different departments, so it wasn't like I ever talked to them or stared and drooled. I never went out of my way to see them, and I kept my distance when I did. But if I came into the corridor and I was walking behind one of them...well, my eyes certainly wouldn't avoid shiny boots wrapped around shapely calves, short skirts or hiked sweater dresses. Or, in the case of one--sweaters so tight that I could tell what kind of bra she was wearing.

I couldn't help it.

I always had a weakness for older women, and they were fine examples. Impeccable style, intoxicating perfume...sometimes I thought I'd have to focus elsewhere just to stop from suddenly advertising my excitement through tented pants.

But today, the stars must have aligned. I left my cubicle to get a refill on my caffiene, and to my delight, the dark-haired Michaela was walking in front of me, sporting high-gloss overknee black boots I'd never seen on her before. Every graceful step, every tch-thik, tch-thik from her heel-toe paces matched the beat of the red blood coursing through me.

Then, as I passed into the main hall, I saw Jill, holding a door down the hall as she talked to one of her co-workers. The most mature of the three, she also had the most phenomenal tits, sitting proud, perky and high on her chest, constrained by a tight sweater. As I got closer to the cafeteria, my eyes were jumping back and forth between Michaela's boots and Jill's sweater, probably more obvious than I wanted.

I grabbed my coffee and headed over to the counter to add cream and sugar. I dumped in the sugar and a spot of cream, but as I went to put the carton away, I heard a voice behind me.

"Hey hon, I'll take that."

I looked over my shoulder to see Lucy in a form-fitting blue sweater dress, her curly ash blond locks framing her face. Her hazel eyes were pointed right at mine, and I stood speechless for a second. We'd never said a word to each other, and I never stood quite so close to that perfect body, nor had a reason to look directly at her.

"Oh, uhm--sure." I handed the carton off to her and went back to my coffee, stirring it. I let my eyes drift back to her soft hand, stirring her own coffee--her nails painted a shade of purple. For a split second I thought about how those fingers would feel gliding up and down my cock--but I broke the thought as best I could when I realized her scent, her proximity, and my dirty mind were going to get me in trouble.

I paid for my coffee and headed back out the door, making a point to get a good look at Lucy again before I walked back out into the corridor. To my surprise, she was already looking at me, though not at my eyes until a second after I turned back. Was she looking me over?

We locked gaze for a moment when she raised an eyebrow and smiled just slightly enough for me to notice. I smiled back, stupid with male hormones as I forced myself back into the corridor. I was anxious to get my lap back under my desk where its very physical reaction to the situation couldn't be seen.

For the rest of the day I plugged away at my desk, distracted every now and then by a nasty daydream of licking Michaela's boots, burying my face in Jill's tits or pulling up Lucy's sweater dress over her hips and imagining what kind of wonderful lingerie must be beneath it.

When I was finally finished with my day's work, it was well after quitting time. I passed through the empty maze of cubicles and coffee makers until I reached the department door, when I heard a female voice.

"Stop it!" The voice said playfully, a giggle following close behind. I paused, standing at the door and listening to what sounded like something that would earn disciplinary action by HR. "Mmm, that's nice, but I can't..." a short, sexy squeak was followed by a passionate moan.

I should've just minded my own business, but I swore I'd heard the voice before. Of course I was curious.

I peeked over the cubicle wall nearby to see Michaela, reclined in her office chair with her stocking feet up on her desk--or, at least one of them. The other was extended just above it, toes pointed. Michaela herself had her eyes closed, her pearly white upper teeth biting gently down on her lip as if she was receiving some carnal thrill from exposing her pretty, delicate feet. At first I thought she was oddly moving it about, articulating it in ways that defied its muscular anatomy, but I soon realized the explanation was far stranger.

It almost seemed as if she was getting a foot massage from some unseen visitor.

By accident of reaction, I gasped at the sight. Michaela's eyes popped open to look directly at me, but her ghostly massage seemed to continue. Far from shocked, she seemed to delight in my observation

" want to join the party, or would you rather just stand there and drool?"

"I, uh..." My eyes were drawn to her collar, where I saw motion on the black blouse she was wearing. Inexplicably, the top button seemed to undo itself, and the shirt gently opened a bit, exposing a bit of cleavage. My jaw dropped, and she giggled again.

"You don't have to say a word, actually. I know exactly what you want to do. Girls?" And while the ghostly massage went on, From under her desk came her glossy black boots--without any legs in them.

At this point, I really wasn't sure what was going on, and while certain parts of me were just fine with that, it was all just a little too strange for my mind.

I turned away and walked quickly back to the door, but as I was about to go back into the corridor, I saw Jill's sweater through the glass. The door seemed to open all by itself as the tight red sweater hovered on the other side, its sleeves crossed under its jutting tits.

"Going somewhere?" A voice from in front of me said. "The fun's just about to start, and you're in a hurry to rush out of here?" I stood frozen in front of the door as the sweater moved toward me.

"Um, Jill?" I asked, not knowing what else to say to a stacked empty sweater.

"Not quite, but I'm sure you noticed some similarities..." The sleeves uncrossed themselves, and the empty ends went under the perky orbs, appearing to lift them even higher and manipulate them with unseen hands.

"So...what's going on here? Tell me I'm not snoring at my desk." With what I'd seen in the last couple of minutes, I figured that was the only possible explanation. The empty sweater bobbed past me and around the corner into Michaela's cubicle. I followed behind.

"What do you think? Will he blow a fuse if I try and explain?"

"He's a man," said a very Michaela-like voice from near the floor. "Don't bother with explanations. Give commands." I just realized that the voice was coming from Michaela's boots when an office chair struck me right behind my knees, causing me to fall back onto it. The boots immediately jumped into my lap. "Lick."

And while I heard the command, I couldn't take it seriously. I let out a nervous chuckle instead of complying, and felt a stiletto heel bear down between my legs.

"Oww, hey!" I grabbed the empty boot on my lap, wrapping my fingers around the stiff leather shaft and trying to pull it away. I could clearly see the inside of the empty shaft, but even as I confirmed the lack of an invisible leg inside as my fingers passed over and into the shiny material, the heel stayed firmly planted on me--not enough to hurt, but enough to put serious pressure against my most sensitive parts.

"Oh, be nice to him..." I heard the sweater say behind me as its red sleeves wrapped snugly around the back of my neck. The boot eased up on my crotch as I felt the warmth of two huge, round forms pressing against the back of my head. "He's always such a gentleman, even when the dirtiest intentions are floating around in his mind."

"Well, all the more reason to play rough with him," the boots said, leaping back off my lap and easily pulling out of my grip. "Who wants a gentleman?"

"I do, for one..." the sweater said, hugging me tighter. "And I know for sure the real Jill would too."

"Where is Jill, anyway?" Michaela asked.

"Playing in her office while we fluff the stud," the sweater said, letting its sleeves go loose around me as the ends traveled down my button-up. Beyond the empty red wrists, I could feel invisible fingers passing over my flesh, swirling for a second around my nipples--which reacted accordingly. "Don't think it's going to take much, though. He seems pretty up for anything."

The whole situation was so surreal. I was sitting at work, being hit on by the iconic clothes of the women that had caught my attention.

Smelling Jill's perfume in the soft sleeves running over me, what else could I do but sigh and lean back against the ghostly form? I turned my head against the sweater, nuzzling against its well-filled chest.

"Okay," I said, "what's the catch here?"

"Mmm...well, the catch is that you have to be generous with yourself...and open to new experiences." The sweater flew around to the front, presenting itself to me. I thought I even saw the bust inflate a little. "Now gimme a hug."

The sleeves wrapped around my head again, and this time the invisible hands at the ends of the sweater sleeves grabbed my hair and pulled my face into the huge, soft spread.

And it was fantastic--the give of the fabric and the flowery sweet scent of the perfume gave me the sense that I was really burying my head in Jill's tits. I wrapped my arms around the body of the sweater, convinced that whoever or whatever was controlling these clothes wanted me to loosen up a bit. I raked my fingers down the soft red ribs of the fabric and pulled the form into me, working my fingers up to the back of the collar and exploring the emptiness beyond.

And as far as I could tell, that's all there was inside this sweater--empty space. I pressed my face into the emulated tits again, my cock hardening as I breathed in perfumed air. Jill's physical absence in the clothing didn't seem to trump my arousal by the ghostly, ethereal presence of the qualities that remained. The scent and feel of this tight, shapely top was enough to plunge me into unabashed fantasy, which reminded me:

"This can't be real." I said it into the sweater, muffled by it even as I held it tight.

"No, of course it can't," Michaela said. "So go ahead and try to wake yourself up." She smirked, chuckling along with the boots. Jill's sweater seemed to shake with light laughter that concluded with a long sigh, and as it happened, I swore I could feel the chest swell and shrink with the gestures.

A voice with no body. A form with no flesh. A sigh with no lungs...the physical contradictions were mystifying.

"I didn't say I wanted to wake up," I said, lifting my head and addressing Michaela directly. "I just said it can't be real."

"Well," came a hum from the sweater, "you've only just started. You don't know what unreal is."

"So...what do we do next?" I asked.

"What would you like to happen next?"

The possibilities flooded my mind. I wanted to squeeze, prod and play with this sweater like a love doll. I wanted to suck Michaela's gorgeous stocking toes. I wanted to see Jill wearing this sweater while it forced her to suck my cock.

I wanted Lucy, from behind, bent over her desk and wearing a tight sweater dress--hiked up to make her accessible. I wanted all three of these women engaged in sapphic lust.

"What did you ask for?" I asked Michaela.

"A foot rub," she said, matter of fact. "And you."

"Wait. Me?" She nodded.

"Yeah, you. That's how you got here."

"But, why m--"

"Because we needed some honest to goodness cock around here...and a male attached to it that seemed like he'd make a good team player." Both of Michaela's legs were hovering over the desk now, still being manipulated and massaged by unseen force.

So, in effect, I was here to please her--and not the other way around.

"So, what's with the sweater?" It pulled away from my embrace.

"Talk about me like I'm not here?" The sweater almost sounded hurt. "You didn't seem too disappointed a minute ago."

"I'm not disappointed, I just don't get why--" Michaela cut me off with laughter.

"You get why...even better than I do." She beckoned to the sweater, which hovered over to her. Michaela rubbed her hands down the front of the sweater, cupping her hands around the chest and kneading. "Though having seen the idea in action, I do understand the appeal, I think."

The empty sweater sleeves pulled back, dropping their shoulders and pushing out the front of the sweater to meet Michaela's caresses.

"Are you really Michaela?" She kept feeling up the sweater as she looked at me and laughed.

"Well, I can't 'really be' anyone if none of this is real, right?" She looked at the collar of the sweater. "Are you really Jill's sweater?"

"Mmm...don't I feel like Jill's sweater?" The voice was dreamy and soft, and now the sweater was swaying with the motions of Michaela's hands as if it wholly appreciated the attention.

"Well, I wouldn't know for sure, being that it's Jill's first time here...but I'm inclined to say yes." She looked back at me. "Wouldn't you?"

"I--what do you mean?"

"Well, you've never buried your face in Jill's tatas before, have you?"


"But this sweater made you feel exactly like that's what you were doing, didn't it?" Michaela's fingers played over the round forms, squeezing here and swirling around a hardening under-fabric nipple there. I was hypnotized.

"It felt like heaven."

"Oh, that's why you're here, my dirty little boy." She grinned and let go of the sweater, which quickly turned back to me. Its phantom nipples stood erect on marvelous ribbed globes. The sweater hovered down to my seated level and draped its lower hem across my lap. A red sleeve came down at my waist, and just beyond its end, my belt unbuckled itself.

"So--so, what do you want me to do?"

The phantom hand in Jill's sleeve unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, and I got no response.

"Michaela...who are you?"

"Your co-worker, Adam. I'm your co-worker. The one whose boots you drool over. The one that can feel your eyes on me as I'm walking in front of you."

"Sorry. I always tried to be--oooh!" I looked down to see the waistband on my designer briefs peeling away all on their own.

"Dreadfully boring, Adam."

"It's an office," I said, reaching my hand down to stop my rebellious clothing. "Boring is safe and appropriate. Besides, we don't really even work together."

"Would it kill you to say hi?" Michaela asked. Jill's red sweater lifted off my lap and hovered around to the back of the chair, lifting off my midsection just in time to see my dick pop out of my briefs. My tie loosened and snaked itself out of its half-Windsor, slithering down me and constricting around my interfering hand and pulling it behind me.

"I--well, it's..." I let out a nervous laugh as I reached back with my free hand to stop the playful tie. I wasn't at all surprised (nor disappointed) to discover that both of my hands were now tied behind the chair. "So I suppose it's too late to say sorry?"

"You already said that," Michaela smiled. "And don't you I know how wrong I was. You're anything but boring." I felt my feet lift off the ground as if my shoes were pressing up against me. They quickly planted themselves on the base of the rolling chair and held fast, even when I tried to move them.

"Hey, uh--"

"I brought Lucy a while ago." Michaela continued, cutting off my half-hearted protest. "She's a freak just like you, you know." I thought about Lucy's tight sweater dresses, her leather skirts and wild, curly blond hair. Then I thought about the look she gave me earlier that day... "I brought her because that's who I wanted first. I wanted to taste the nectar between her legs." And now this glorious new imagery entered my mind. "And you...I brought you once I could look inside you and see past that boring shell." Tied to the rolling chair now, I wheeled closer to Michaela's desk under no power of my own. "But Jill? I had no idea about her. I didn't think you noticed anyone, let alone a woman pushing fifty." The chair spun halfway around, and now Michaela's lips were right next to my ear. "And you know what I really didn't expect?" She purred in a whisper to me, "That her fantasies about you would be twice as kinky as yours about us."

My eyes went wide with surprise just before the rolling chair sailed away from the desk and out of Michaela's cubicle. Jill's empty sweater did the same, and as it started its hovering strut down the hall, the rolling chair followed.

Even exposed, my manhood showed no sign of shyness, restraint, or lack of interest. Nonsensical and fantastic as all this was, my prick seemed rather sure of where it was headed. I kept my eyes on the shifting hem of the floating sweater while it strode toward Jill's office with the possessed office chair in tow. When the office door opened, I wasn't sure what to expect.

What I found was a fully-dressed Jill sitting wide-eyed at her desk, just as shocked as I must have looked about my compromising position and my animated clothing and furniture captors.

"I, um--" Her rouge cheeks turned bright red, and she kept her eyes up, awkwardly trying to avoid looking at my forced exposure.

"The both of you look like embarrassed grade-schoolers being forced to hold hands," came the disembodied voice in front of me. Though the weirdness of being chided by one of her own sweaters wasn't lost on Jill, her irritation at the comparison showed on her face.

"I never guessed my clothes would be so critical," Jill joked.

"It's impatience," the sweater replied. "All those naughty thoughts about being impaled on some young stallion's cock, and when we deliver, you can't even look at it." The sweater floated toward me again, hovering down to my seated level. "Look at him, Jill. He's ready to go." A soft sleeve slipped its end over my cock, which was more than happy to illustrate its enthusiasm. I hardened as the knit fabric danced over the sides of my prick. "And from what we've seen, he's always ready. He could be your cute little pet slut." I groaned delight as the sleeve gently started stroking me, and I looked up at Jill to see her embarrassed, cherry-colored cheeks. As soon as she made eye contact, the body of the sweater threw itself against me, pressing its huge tits into my face. I happily nuzzled against the phantom chest, pushing back against it as my hips thrust against the hollow sleeve softly jerking me.

"Fuuuuck, yeah..." I muttered into the shapely fabric. The tension inflating my dick turned it an engorged red, begging for more substantial attention.

"Or maybe you need to be experience dominance in order to begin learning it. Maybe you'd like to be his slut first." And I must have liked the sound of those words, because as my cock jumped with every soft caress of the sleeve, I pictured Jill, decked out in shiny pink pvc, greedily sucking me off. I imagined her massive tits defying gravity and reason, surrounding my manhood and bulging against me. "I guess that's settled, then," the sweater continued. "Adam's going to show you how to take command."

"Unngh...I--I am?"

"You are. Now take her just like you want to--just like she wants you to." The sweater pressed into me hard and continued, barely audible: "And they're watching, so don't disappoint." When the sweater pulled away from me, its sleeve pulled off of my erection, leaving me sticking up like a flesh obelisk. Jill was in front of me, still red-faced but staring intently at my package. I looked at her body, wanting nothing more than to knead her incredible spread through her tight white sweater.

In a split second, Jill let out a gasp. She looked down at her chest as indentations appeared in the white knit like invisible finger-width coils constricting around her breasts. Somewhere between a moan and awed laughter, she spouted excited noise at the impossible sight. It felt like she was being fondled by phantom hands, and pulses of pleasure moved through her as the soft flesh of her mammaries received erotic supernatural attention.

"That's right, Adam," the disembodied red sweater said. "Just let your imagination do the work."

My animal desire and pent-up lust used those words as fuel, and my fantasies flowed like water from a overwhelmed dam.

I wanted to suck on her tits. It was one of the first thoughts that came into my perverted mind when I first saw her. Jill gasped again as the enchanted unseen fingers working over her tits momentarily stopped, allowing the white knit to pull itself up and over them. As her sweater pulled itself off the rest of the way, a seamless white tee concealed beneath it now begin moving on its own, lifting and squeezing her awesome orbs as I watched.

While the freed white sweater came off of her body, its well-filled red counterpart gave me another idea, and reality immediately obliged. Jill's white sweater filled to her own shape and turned to face her, its sleeves resting at the hem of her white tee. Before she could react, the sweater was peeling her tight shirt off, revealing a well-filled tan strapless bra. As the white shirt filled up with invisible force, it joined the sweater in bobbing around Jill. Her dress pants popped open and unzipped themselves as she began to rise off the ground.


Now clad only in a tan bra and matching satin panties, the other parts of Jill's outfit circled her as her body hovered toward me. Still tied to the chair, I focused my attention on her chest. The satin cups dropped a bit as the bra unclasped on its own and fluttered away.

And there before me was the sight I'd imagined since the first time I saw this woman; round, gorgeous breasts--impossibly perky for someone in her late forties. Her nipples were hardened pink points on half-dollar areolae, and the only thing I wanted more than to stare at them were to have them in my hands and against my lips. But as I watched her magically sailing toward me, I felt my own body shift off of the office chair. I was no longer bound to it, but my hands were still held behind my back with my tie. As I joined Jill in disobeying gravity, the pieces of her outfit began to reassemble themselves, and the buttons on my shirt came undone, one after the other.

When I looked back at Jill, she was smiling--watching my torso exposed inch by inch. My eyes were drawn back down to her bust, free from restriction and swaying with the inertia of her body.

My prick was hard as a rock. Well off the rolling chair now, the rest of my clothes began to pull themselves free of me save my shirt, whose sleeves were bound up with the tie keeping my hands secured behind me. I looked at the only piece of clothing left on Jill--her tan satin panties--and imagined them obediently rolling to one side to make way for her imminent ride on my cock.

When my expectations were once again obliged, Jill felt a shiver run through her, feeling the satin pull itself away from her clit. As she reached between her legs, one of the white sleeves of her formerly-worn sweater coiled around her wrist and stopped her. She looked up at the ghostly form to see the end of the other sleeve wagging at her.

"No touching," came the voice from her red sweater, watching the scene unfold a short distance away. "Leave that job to someone else." With the two of us hovering right next to each other, we both watched as our alignment brushed the tip of my cock against her bud. Jill moaned, feeling the warm skin of my tip light up her most sensitive nerves. She looked me in the eyes with appreciative lust and smiled.

"I was told this is all thanks to you," she said, sputtering another sound of pleasure as her body was held closer to mine by the magical force holding her aloft. The underside of my dick slid along her clit, my tip rubbing against the satin of her pulled-aside underwear. Her enormous breasts were being held against my bare chest now, and I stifled my own excited giggle as I glanced down at them and back to Jill's gaze.

"Not all thanks to me, but my daydreams have something to do with it..." I managed, a pleased gravelly sound escaping from me a second later.

"So is this your dream, or mine?" Jill said, smiling. I felt my shirt shuffling around my wrists, the tie binding my hands shifting up and around it. Before I knew it, my button down was free of my wrists, but upon moving my arms I found my hands were still well secured by my tie.

"Do you dream about me, Jill?" I asked, closing my eyes dreamily as my cock slid against her again, now slick with her nectar. It couldn't possibly be more rigid now--bulging and begging for insertion. She sighed, nodding vigorously as our bodies tensed and teased against each other, out of our control.

"Never like this, but oh yeah--I dream about you."

Our bodies parted, hovering a couple feet away from each other. Jill whimpered, her clit now unstimulated by my ready prick. Both of our bodies rotated to face our enchanted clothing, mine now organizing itself into the complete outfit as Jill's disembodied clothes approached. The two filled-out outfits embraced, and then Jill's sweater sleeves reached just above the empty collar of my button down as one of my sleeves reached around to the backside of Jill's pants. An unseen hand beyond made a pronounced indentation in Jill's dress pants before quickly pulling itself up the side of the sweater and doing the same to the ballooning front of the fabric. It lingered there for a while, playing as the two collars appeared to lean in to each other, moving subtly as if the two non-existent bodies inside were locking lips. I turned to Jill, who parted her lips and gently bit one of her fingers as she watched our clothing get busy.

As we watched, I glanced at Jill from time to time, watching her hips move as she watched our haunted outfits paw at each other. She brought her hands up to her chest, massaging herself and squeezing her tits together. She looked over at me, tweaking her nipples and smiling mischievously.

I was practically drooling watching her enjoy herself. I was tired of the supernatural teasing--I wanted her body against mine NOW.

Our floating bodies turned to each other once more, and now Jill's rushed toward me, rising slightly as it neared. A hardened nipple sailed right to my waiting lips, and I happily opened them, pulling her soft flesh into my mouth with a soft, sucking pulse.

"Oh, fuuuuck yes!" She cried, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling me into her. "Suck on me..." Her forceful insistence made my cock jump, now painfully erect. "Suck harder...fucking harder!" As I buried my face in her, tonguing a milky sweet nipple, our bodies shifted under us without forcing me to break contact. Before I knew it, my dick was sliding against her pussy again, now wetter than ever. After three teasing strokes, my aching cock slipped into her, causing us both to moan in ecstasy. I cried out, releasing Jill's breast as I did. As she began riding me in the air, tensing and relaxing her thighs, I watched her breasts bounce and jiggle just over my head.

I licked my lips, swearing that my suckling had given me a taste of something warm and sweet. As she slid her heat up and down my cock, I became thirsty for more...and was obliged in a whole new way.

Jill shrieked delight as she felt the impossible: now a set of lips clamped on to each breast, but this time, they weren't mine. The sucking sensation continued as phantom mouths pulled on her, and I watched as her breasts rhythmically bulged and compressed themselves.

By now, Jill's outfit was straddling my own, riding it up a wall of her office. The red sweater hovered in space, it's own sleeves pointed at its tits as they were gripped and pulled by invisible fingers. The sweater was making its own noises, apparently content to watch me, Jill, and our outfits let loose on each other.

When I looked back at Jill, her eyes were closed, her back arching as she rode against me harder, placing her hands against my stomach to brace herself. Her tits conformed to almost conical shapes now as the magical suckling continued, and my jaw dropped when I saw tiny white droplets appear at the tips of her nipples.

"Ohmigaaaaaawd..." Jill put a hand to her face as she saw the same, looking down at her tits in wonder. "What the fuck is happening to me?" The droplets at her nipples seemed to extend outward, as if flowing out through an unseen straw. The milky liquid snaked away from her, converging with a stream from her other breast and heading toward my lips.

"Whhhat the..." I tried to focus on the strange phenomenon through the chaos of our primal rhythm, hesitating as the liquid began pooling itself in a small sphere stopping just short of my lips. Was this really Jill's milk?

I looked up at her to see her biting her lip, looking down at my face and grinning wide, almost aggressively.

"Drink me," she snarled. "Drink me now, fuck toy."

* * *

Back in her cubicle, Michaela watched the scene on her computer, streaming the action live from the teleconferencing webcam on Jill's desk. Her skirt was hiked, and she made short cooing sounds as her red panties played against her clit.

"You've chosen well, my dear..." came a disembodied voice from between her legs. "You are accelerating everything wonderfully. We need not wait any longer for the next phase."

"Wait...for what next phase?" Michaela panted.

"You don't think that we recruited you just for fun, did you?" Michaela howled as the red silk panties pushed themselves inside her, causing her to grip the arms of her chair as she watched the couple on her screen magically approach orgasm.

" wanted to give us our absolute fantasies...what comes after that?"

A white sweater dress rounded the corner into Michaela's cubicle.

"Lucy didn't tell you?" It asked. "You're helping us build a goddess."