Office
The first story in the 'big tits' trifecta, and the only one where I remembered to include any sex
The silence, patterned with the scratching of pens and squeak of highlighters, was broken by the ring of an empty metal coffee pot being dragged across the table. "We're out of coffee," the hyena across the table observed, rubbing her forehead. The lurid purple eyeshadow smudged. She yawned, an impressive display of perfect dentition.
The bobcat opposite her-Mr. Hoffmann, one of the senior members of the office-looked up from his own paperwork, over his bifocals. "We're out of interns," he observed drily.
"Oh," she noted. "So we are." She made a sideways grin that lingered.
He was dressed in a suit, with a tie, the kind of suit and tie you wear when you're doing paperwork that involves money, and the kind that you commit to when you enter a career working with it. The hyena...didn't dress that way, she was tall and had implausible curves for someone her age and dressed in the loud colors and eccentric choices-an ascot, in an an office, in this century?--of a person who is either in the entertainment industry or has enough money and clout that people stop saying anything. Almost certainly the latter in this case.
She was leaning back and removing said ascot. Her implausibly generous chest...certainly not natural, and thus a choice, was out of place on a ranking business woman, but when did hyenas ever make sense?
"Were we still going to try to finish this tonight?" He asked as she sat idle. He politely didn't sound even slightly put upon, but the twirl of his highlighter was a tell.
"We're going to finish tonight," she agreed, and stood up, walking around the table in a few long strides. She put a hand on the back of his chair and looked over his shoulder.
He looked up at her, eyebrow raised, and glanced over at her own copy of the exact same paperwork over on her side of the table. "Yes?"
She waved a hand vaguely. "What do you have on the last page." Her chest came to rest on his shoulder as she loomed over him.
He obligingly flipped back a page, and didn't lean back, because there was no space to. She smelled of coffee, something floral, and of long days. And...
She sneezed as his ear twitched again in her face. Her whiskers had tickled it, setting off a cascade reaction. The hyena rubbed her muzzle on the back of her hand, then leaned forwards and inhaled deeply alongside his neck, a nostrils flaring.
Hoffmann started to stand but didn't make it past her bulk over his shoulder, bouncing off and back to a sitting position. "Excuse me?" he snapped, cool breaking.
"Hm, sorry. Just checking." She stood and stepped back. "Yeah, we're going to finish. I'm not coming back tomorrow. We can take fifteen minutes." She smiled gently and patted him on the shoulder, then stepped to the door. There was a click as she turned the lock.
Hoffmann frowned. "What are you up to?"
"We're out of interns, like you said." She stretched, an impressive display of batik fabric sewn in a way to strongly suggest a suit without being one. "I need a break and you need a break, we're the only ones in the office except for janitorial, and we can make do." She started unbuttoning her shirt, and paused at his look. "What?"
"What are you talking about," he said, a bit uncertainly.
"Sex? I don't have to log it if it's less than fifteen minutes." She undid more buttons, pulling her top open. It had been loose, but somehow her chest looked even larger without it, contained in a bra the same than color as the middle of her chest, the shadows of wide nipples showing through it. She turned her back to him and nodded her chin at the tall strap wrapped around her back. "Here. Help undo this."
The bobcat closed his mouth. "I don't..."
"Oh, grow up. You're interested. I have a nose. Unless I hear a very good explanation why you smell aroused and in fact are not, undo those hooks and take your pants off." She huffed, then paused. "Ah, sorry. You're not an intern. PLEASE do those things." She scratched at the front of her bra. "This is itchy."
Hoffmann raised his paws, stopped, then continued, reflexively. She was standing facing away from him and it seemed normal and appropriate to help. But then he stopped again. "Wait, what about the interns? ...and what about my pants?"
"They've been very helpful. It was a long day, and I don't travel with a personal assistant. Two more hooks, darling."
"Have you been...making passes at our interns?" His nose picked up something other than warm hyena, a trace of vulpine scent. "Sandra?"
"Oh, was that her name? ...I'm joking, yeah, she was wearing a name tag. Pretty thing," she said, peeling the bra off herself. "Ah," she said, scratching at her freed breasts briefly, and turning to face him at close quarters. He'd never seen a hyena bare-chested, not in person, but...she was a foot taller than he was and the wide curves threatened to take up the whole span of his vision. Her black nipples shifted as she moved.
He almost took a step back, but she put a hand on his shoulder. "Just go with it. I know what I'm doing. Take your pants off. Don't make me use emphasis." She grinned a narrow smile, and her eyes were watching his, greedy and smug.
"I'm not..." He stopped and started again, as her other arm held his other shoulder and she pulled closer.
"You like them?" she said, not really a question. "They're worth more than your car, I suspect. Worth every penny," she rumbled and raised her hand to stroke the upper curve of her chest. She touched her cleavage. "I want your dick right here. I've been thinking about it since section six, subsection two."
"That was two pages ago," he noted pedantically, rather than saying whatever he was originally going to say. Her hand was on his belt. "You can't...you're standing too close to me."
"Sandra managed." Her hand was over his, mostly in the way. But she stepped back, sitting on the edge of the table. "The furniture is plenty sturdy here. We established that. Go on, I'm half naked and you have a boner and we're in an abandoned office anyways. We're adults." She raised her brows, pointedly watching him and looking down. He frowned, half irritated, and jerked at his belt. She nodded, and leaned back on the table, atop the paperwork, reaching for her purse.
"On top of the forms?"
She laughed. "Have you heard of the springtime rituals that farmers did? Fucking in the fields to...I don't know, kick start the season or something."
He paused, pants partway open, and she lay back on the table, breaking line of sight. He dodged one of her stockinged hindpaws as it flailed in the direction of pulling his pants down, and then went ahead and lowered them himself. Her other stocking hindpaw had gotten past him, and he hissed as it stroked his erection.
"Rrrr. Here, up on the table, bring that with you. Don't use the wheeled chair, OSHA would dissaprove." She patted her belly, in front of the swells of her breasts. "Ass right here." She raised her right wrist to her out-of-sight face. "Not dwelling on the time, but...I'm not staying here overnight."
Hoffmann took a step onto one of the non-rolling chairs, then another, and....the paperwork, all over the table, with a hyena on top of it. People would believe anything about hyenas, no one would blame him. She'd pulled a bottle out of her purse and snapped it open.
"An open bottle of lube on top of the paperwork?" Somehow that offended him most of all.
She ignored him. "Oh, that is nice," she said, eying his erection. "Bring it over here." She squeezed the bottle into one hand, and then wiped it into the valley between her breasts, then wiped her hands over her nipples, wetting them. She pressed the sides of her breasts inwards, deepening her cleavage, fingers toying with her nipples. She closed her eyes, seemingly quite taken with herself.
Hoffmann slowly stepped forwards, as if expecting a trap, and kneeled alongside him. He started as a slickly wet hand moved between his legs and then gently gripped his shaft. "Yeah, that's it. Here, do you need help?...no?" He moved, swinging a leg over her torso, his thighs pressed up against the sides of her breasts. His penis bobbed over her.
"Just lean forwards," she rumbled, hands moving back to her nipples, trapping them between her fingers. "Move your hips, do that boy thing. Make the little guy happy." She rolled her head, knocking over the box of clips, caressing herself, but there was a narrow glitter of her eyes looking between his legs.
He lowered his torso, balls touching her belly, and then her soft breasts enfolded his cock, short fur slick with lubricant. He saw one of her hands reluctantly pulling away from her nipple, starting to reach for his hip, but he forestalled that, thrusting into her cleavage. She smiled slowly.
His nose couldn't stop noticing the foxy smell, it was stronger now. In this room? On this lady's chest? Sandra was never anything but proper, and a hard worker, and he never looked at her inappropriately, but...
The hyena's big muzzle had a smug, wide smile on it, and she was pressing her breasts around him. The head of his penis poked rhythmically out of her cleavage and...was Sandra on this table earlier? His cheeks flushed.
The hyena under him laughed happily as he came, spattering her neck and then oozing from her cleavage as he slowed. He shuddered, and one of her strong hands gripped his hip as he slipped and shuddered, temporarily kneeling on a pen painfully.
The hyena looked up at him as he leaned back and panted, looking...well, not affectionate, but friendly and pleased. She played with the sticky semen on her chest, and reached out and wiped her fingertips in the fluff of his chest fur. Hoffmann sputtered. She grinned and shrugged.
Hoffmann inhaled deeply and gathered himself. She was glancing at her watch again. "So, about Sandra..."
She squinted up at him in confusion. "Who?"