“Shall we sit outside,” Oscar asked,

“No, follow me,” Imogen said, “the back room will be empty on a Wednesday evening,” Oscar dutifully followed as Imogen led him to the small back room and as predicted, they had it to themselves. She chose the furthest corner table and gestured to the bench seat,

“You first,” she said and Oscar detected a purpose in her,

“OK,” he said a little dubiously, and he took the bench seat sliding into the corner to leave room for her to join him. She tossed her jacket on the opposite bench and sat down,

“Now I’ve got you trapped,” she said grinning,

“Oh no,” he said with mock fear, “whatever shall I do?”

“If you want things to go well,” she said, “exactly what I ask you to,”

“Which might be?” Imogen paused. She’d been seduced by Vicky being so forward, it had been exciting to surrender to her. She’d openly flirted with Oscar asking him to display his ‘throbbing manhood’ and nothing bad had happened. The whole modesty thing was definitely overrated and she was warming to her inner slut. The plan was drinks and maybe a kiss but perhaps she’d skip ahead a little,

“Well, I invited you to send me a dick pic and you turned me down, Mrs K offered to gobble you off and you ran for the lift. You said things were better in person so here I am — in person,” she turned to him and undid a button on her blouse, he glanced at her cleavage, two curves of powder blue lace were visible and he felt a spasm in his cock,

“Do you like the view?” She asked half accusing, half offering the vista,

“Well yes, No…Yes, I…” he faltered and his words tumbled over each other, “sorry,” he said looking away,

“Don’t be silly, men like to look and girls like to be looked at, I’d worry if you didn’t try a bit of downblousing given the chance,” he laughed nervously and found her eyes,

“Do you really?” He asked, “do you like being looked at?”

“Of course,” she said, “why do you think women spend so much time and effort on their appearance?”

“They say that women really dress for other women, like a competition,”

“That’s partly true,” Imogen said, “and women complain about ‘the male gaze’ until they’re forty and frumpy, then they suddenly find that they miss it,” Oscar thought Imogen sounded worldly wise, little did he know she was quoting Cath,

“I’m stuck in menswear all day, I don’t get much chance to gaze at anything,”

“So no girlfriend then? No Mrs Oscar,” he blushed a little,

“No,” he said, “I’ve never had a proper girlfriend,” then he countered, “you?” and Imogen had to consider. Were the Glams her girlfriends? She’d had sex with both of them, slept in Karen’s bed, they had a date lined up for Friday, all the girlfriend boxes were kind of ticked. But they were a couple, she was the extra, she’d tell him the truth,

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said, “I was brought up in a fairly strict Muslim household,” Oscar raised his eyebrows and pointed at Imogen’s Vodka and Coke, she smiled, “quite strict,” she stressed the first word, “not fundamentalist, my Dad has a beer most nights,”

“And your Mum?” Oscar asked,

“She died three years ago,” Imogen said, “she converted from Catholicism to Islam to marry my Dad but only on paper, she liked red wine,”

“Oh I’m so sorry Imogen,” Oscar said,

“You can call me Imo and it’s OK, but I miss her lately. Since she went my Dad’s becoming more Indian by the day, she used to keep him in check,”

“More Indian?” Oscar echoed as a question,

“He thinks I should be ‘sincere, faithful and pious’, the whole modesty thing is more important to him than the odd drink,” Oscar’s eyes darted to Imogen’s cleavage again and he wondered what her Dad might think of her flashing her bra while holding a vodka and flirting,

“So you couldn’t take a boy home then,” Imogen nearly spat out her drink as she laughed,

“He’d fucking explode if I turned up with a boy, he’d go nuclear,” they both smiled at the idea,

“I see,” Oscar said and Imogen processed the exchange, Osacar was sounding out where they might go, what the possibilities for the evening might be, so like a man,

“How about you?” she asked, “what are your parents like?”

“Pretty normal I suppose, my Dad’s a Tube driver on the District line, Mum’s a hairdresser, they’re pretty laid back,”

“So could you take a girl home?” Imogen leaned towards Oscar letting her blouse tighten over her breasts, displaying a little more of her bra,

“I mean, I suppose so,” he tried not to stare and felt another minor bulge in his boxers. Imogen grinned and preparing to change gear, sat back and casually undid another button,

“Are you a virgin Oscar?” He blushed properly this time and looked briefly away, he was intimidated by Imogen being so forward and it took him a moment to reply,

“There was one girl, at a party,” he took a glug of his beer, “we ended up basically naked in a bedroom and she wanted to but she was drunk so…” he trailed off,

“So you were the perfect gentleman,” Imogen smiled warmly at him, “not taking advantage when you could have,”

“It wouldn’t have been right,” he said,

“Well I think that’s very noble of you, I bet she was glad the next day,”

“I don’t know,” he said, “I never saw her again,” Imogen took a moment to reassess Oscar. If he’d ended up naked with a girl he must have chatted her up, they must have kissed. They would have fumbled with clothes, she might have sucked his cock, he might have had his tongue between her legs, perhaps he wasn’t quite the innocent she’d taken him for. She stuck to the plan,

“How many buttons is it going to take?”

“For what?” Oscar couldn’t quite believe what was happening. He’d lusted after Imogen for months, wanted her, wanked over her now she was offering a view of her breasts,

“For you to take a proper interest in my tits,” she said, “do I have to take the bra off to get you hard?” Falteringly, nervously, he joined her game,

“Can I…, can I…, touch them?” She grabbed his hand and placed it firmly on her right breast,

“Feel me,” she smiled wickedly at him, “tell me when you’re hard,” her breast yielded under his hand, soft but firm,

“I’m hard now,” he said honestly and she giggled, it seemed to take so little to have a man as putty in her hands,

“Let’s see him then,” and she looked to his crotch. Oscar was very hard, but he was also petrified, what if she laughed, what if he wasn’t big enough, what if so many things? He unzipped his trousers, reached in and manoeuvred his fully erect penis through the slit in his boxers to reveal it, standing to attention, to Imogen. She gasped,

“Lovely,” she said and she gently took hold of his shaft. Her touch made his member spasm slightly and a pleasure sound escaped him as she slowly drew her hand down pulling the foreskin and revealing the head, she imagined what Oscar’s cock would feel like in her palace, pushing into her wet pussy,

“Did the girl at the party suck your cock?” She asked,

“No,” he managed, “we just snogged and got undressed,”

“So will this be your first ever blowjob Oscar?” He realised what she’d been planning, the empty back room, the corner table, his cock on show, Imogen decided that Oscar’s cock was a fine example, super hard and thick, when the opportunity arose, she’d happily fuck him,

“Oh my God,” he said and the anticipation was almost enough to have him ejaculate instantly. Imogen’s hand smoothed up and down his length hardly moving the skin, hardly wanking him but her touch was electric and his hard cock quivered for her,

“Have you thought about this Oscar, have you imagined it?”

“God yes,” he confessed, her left hand came to the gore between the cups of her bra and she pulled upward revealing her pert breasts, her coffee areola, hard dark nipples, again she placed his hand on her breast,

“Oh wow,” came from him,

“Now you have a decision to make,” she gripped him a little more purposefully so that her motions up and down the length of his shaft were truly stimulating,

“I’m going to make you cum Oscar,” she leaned and brought her face very close to his, “so do you want to squirt all over my lovely tits,” she paused for effect as he squeezed her breast, “or would rather blow your load in my hot, wet, mouth,” she placed a gentle kiss on his lips,

“Oh, God” escaped him in an urgent way and Imogen took it as a signal. As she bent over him a pearl of precum glistened at his tip and she poked a pointed tongue to precisely lick it,

“Yum,” she whispered, then she engulfed him. The sensation was beyond exquisite and his jaw fell open as he watched the lovely from lingerie take his cock into her mouth. She slid her hand along his length a few times, moved her tight lips along his manhood once, then twice and then a torrent of cum erupted into her. She coped as best she could swallowing Oscar’s teenage load while giggling and coming up for air, as she took him back in her mouth the sensation post-ejaculation was, if anything, more intense and the boy moaned his pleasure.

The mind is the primary sex organ and as cum leaked out of her mouth along Oscar’s pole to her hand Imogen’s mind was working overtime. She’d found her inner slut, she’d easily seduced a younger colleague with nothing more than a flash of her bra and made him cum with a half-minute blowjob. She was spreading her wings. How soon she wondered, her legs.

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I do hope you enjoyed this extract from my forthcoming Novel "All about Imogen." If you did, swing by the website and check out my eight other published books;
www.janicejames.co.uk
Or you can find all my books on Amazon: UK link | US link