For myself, I called her "Madame." Probably because she was always very polite when communicating with clients.

We often stayed together - I was a software contractor and a sysadmin twice a week, Madame - the secretary and manager on all sorts of issues from Monday to Friday. Our small company occupied the first floor of a private house. Foreigners who founded the company regularly paid the rent, and also sent us our salary. Something from the founders of the company did not go very well, and we practically had no clients. Together, we somehow engaged in advertising and development of the company without much of a visible effect. Sometimes the company was boring. And when people are bored, moreover, if people are tense, angry, or vice versa, they are very happy about all sorts of things happen. Boredom is a harbinger of change.

There was no particularly warm relationship between us and sometimes this sly and cunning aunt caused not the most pleasant impressions (who basically likes sly ones?), But it was impossible not to respect her. For ten years, Madame lived in Italy, gave birth to a boy, and then the trouble began: her husband died, they pushed out of work, had to return with a little boy to his native country. Now she has an adult son with her family in another city and a sick mother who needs to be constantly looked after. Sly Madame organized everything quite dexterously - she was an intermediary in renting a room for our foreign chiefs and, surprisingly, her house was not far from our company. And she takes care of her mother, and she seems to be working at the company.

At fifty with a little Madame, she was not distinguished by the freshness and elasticity of a twenty-year-old (it would have been surprising to have the opposite), but her clothes always looked neat, there was always some kind of scarf, brooch or just a bow — as if every day a woman spent 20 minutes trying different things flywheels. Such a good and round ass, which did not hesitate to "show" in tight jeans and skirts. Not at all tall, blond hair and a pleasant smile.

Madame was not a hacker ... Not at all. Rather, she is such a Hacker that makes others suffer instead of her on the computer. I took aim with my mouse for so long that I could not stand it, put my hand on top of it and set the mouse cursor in the proper place. Madame's hand was very warm and pleasant to the touch. The woman shuddered visibly but said nothing.
- I beg your pardon, I just could not stand it.
- Not young already, it's hard for me to do this computer case.
- It's not difficult, just need to bolder click. You can hardly ruin anything ... - Madame responded only chuckled doubtfully, and then smiled and said:
- I am not a computer scientist, I don’t need to know such complicated things.

Not that I was angry, but it has long been tired. “How to do it?”, “Why doesn’t it work for me?”, “And help me with this?”, “Can you do this ...?”. But I saw that she wrote “Experienced PC user” in her resume ... Sometimes I want to put such people in something heavy ...

- Can we have a break? I'll go put the kettle. - In our small kitchen there was an electric kettle and several mugs for the workers. I decided to make tea too. He took out his mug, threw a bag into it, and became nearby. Madame was wearing a tight golfiki and a long warm skirt (it was cold). At that moment, a woman was looking for milk for tea in the fridge, which stood on the floor. I once thought about things pleasant looking at her delicious ass. At that moment, something just clicked in me. Maybe it was a demon on his shoulder, or a simple obsession. Or maybe it was a Freudian attraction ... but I put the cup aside, quickly walked over to the woman in a tight one, and pulled Madame’s waist with my hands. The woman stood up sharply, holding a bag of milk in her hand.
- What do you...
- You sooooooo fucked my brain ... I want compensation - I said, quietly, almost in a whisper.Her head barely reached my neck, her tiny body seemed so weak, weak-willed ... No, you do not think, she of course resisted. I wanted to turn around, throw a packet of milk at me, scream ... But I shut her mouth, holding her hand in a stranglehold. I felt the excitement growing rapidly in me, my heart pounding wildly. Thoughts quickly rushed through my head. “Where can I do this?” The kitchen did not seem to be a convenient place for violence. Madame scolding in my arms tried to break free, rubbed and crawled her body around my knees and penis, which only increased desire, kindled lust only stronger.

In one of the premises of our company was a suitable high table. I dragged my victim there. On the way, Madame screamed louder and more desperately through her palm. It became very annoying. I shook her well and hissed viciously in her ear:
- Listen, touchy, stop yelling, and then I will beat out my teeth. - As proof, I squeezed her mouth hard. People are different, some injuries only anger more, and others ... Maybe Madame is tired of fighting her whole life?

The woman somehow went limp and stopped screaming. Although I noticed tears running down her cheeks. I abruptly turned Madame to her face, jerking off her skirt, beautiful lace panties (I did not miss the opportunity and turned them on my finger before throwing them away). Madame just silently sobbed. He put the woman in front of him on the table, kneeled off his pants with his underpants. My dick was ready and spring dangling in front of the coveted vagina. Madame's pussy was well-groomed, with a small path of shaved hair, which could not but rejoice. Moving Madame to the very edge, I sent my hand over my dick to her pussy. Such a dry, and it seemed too narrow for my boyfriend pussy did not want to give in. Grabbing a woman comfortably, I stubbornly and with pressure began to push through my dick rhythmically into the cherished hole. From my diligence, the massive table began to wobble noticeably, and Madame sobbed louder and louder. Feels like trying to insert a tree, from which you get only pain and splinters. Maybe a woman's age is not the same, but soon my zeal began to bear fruit.

A member of a deeper breakthrough in Madame. Sobs gradually changed to oohs. From an emery grater, her cunt turned into wet paper with sharp edges and then completely into a soft, juicy sponge. Until the very end, I thrust my dick into the hated and so hotly desired Madame. The woman tried not to look at me, as if she was staring in the other direction and kept covering her face with her hand. I don’t know how much I dug her so much, but her juicy vagina began to squish in time with my jolts. This turned on even more.

I, having thrust my hands under Madam's thighs, raised the woman and already in the air for the entire length of my penis with a loud slap of her developed cunt, I wrenched my eggs still elastic, even a middle-aged body. But I was not a bogatyr either, and soon, having found the nearest chair, I sat down on it, still holding on my hook, Madame.

I powerfully grabbed the woman by the waist and began to furiously push the hunty Madame onto my dick. The elderly Madame butterfly on my needle seemed to be trying to stick more to me, put her head on my shoulder and put her arms around me. Not long slap vagina about a member spread across the half-empty office. The last time, having planted my sacrifice deeper, I began to finish off abundantly and powerfully. Maybe feeling it or just from her bad thoughts, but Madama somehow strangely whimpered.

I am breathing heavily, a woman who mumbles or is so wonderfully crying hangs on me. Sweet languor spread over the body, pleasant exhaustion. I slowly got up. I pushed Madame away from me. Almost peeled off - her body seemed so wet and hot. A member with a light fucking jumped out of her hot pussy, the woman's vagina spit out a clot of sperm, followed by a sluggish thread of white liquid.

- I finished ... - I muttered stupidly and thoughtlessly ...
- I, too - was heard in response ...

Strange, but I did not feel guilty at all. Just the compensation was satisfactory.