Business Trip Temptation: Handjob from a Busty Office Lady at the Lounge

The city I visited for the business trip had a slightly stifling atmosphere, more so than usual.

As a freelance event planner, I'm Shota, in my mid-thirties, single, and caught up in a whirlwind of work every day.

The evening business lounge was a place where tired salarymen tapped away at their laptops with coffee in hand.

I had spread out my materials on the counter, organizing tomorrow's presentation.

Feeling a gaze, I looked up to see a woman at the next table watching me.

She was Misaki, an office lady at an advertising agency, dressed in a black blouse and tight skirt.

But what really caught my eye was her cleavage.

The blouse strained against her chest, revealing a deep valley.

It had to be G-cup at least. Maybe more? The sheer volume swayed enticingly with every step, making me catch my breath.

(Oh man, such massive breasts right in front of me... Just imagining it is dangerous.)

Misaki smiled lightly and spoke to me.

"Excuse me, are you knowledgeable about event planning? I do similar work, and I was wondering if you could give me some advice?"

Her voice was soft, her eyes kind.

I nodded hurriedly and moved to her table.

We started with work talk.

I advised her on campaign ideas for her company, drawing from my past experiences.

Misaki took notes diligently, and each time she nodded, her ample breasts trembled slightly.

The soft evening light filtered through the windows, gently tinting the lounge's atmosphere.

In this unfamiliar city, to have such an encounter.

A warm feeling gradually spread through my heart.

As our conversation flowed, we exchanged contacts.

"Let me consult with you again. Thank you, Shota."

With Misaki's smile, I left the lounge with my heart racing.

Over the next few days, our messages continued.

At first, just work topics. But gradually, personal ones crept in.

Misaki was a driven career woman in her late twenties, enjoying hobbies like reading and cafe hopping despite her busy schedule.

I opened up about my lonely routine.

Constant business trips left me without a partner, and deep down, I craved real connections.

Her replies were always gentle and empathetic.

"I've been so buried in work lately that I feel like I'm losing touch with myself. Let's talk more."

As trust built, my fantasies grew.

(What would it feel like to touch Misaki's breasts? So soft and warm... I might not be able to stop.)

Such wild thoughts crossed my mind. But her words also brought a sense of relief.

On the evening of my final day on the trip, Misaki invited me.

"Shota, if you're nearby, why not come to my apartment? I'd like to talk at length."

My heart pounded.

I agreed without hesitation and headed to the address she gave.

Through the city's bustle, into a quiet residential area.

Misaki's apartment was compact and had a feminine, clean vibe.

She opened the door in a casual T-shirt and shorts.

The soft evening lighting enveloped the room gently.

Under the T-shirt, her full breasts settled naturally against gravity, forming a relaxed shape.

Like ripe fruit, they softly pushed against the fabric in alluring curves.

Noticing my gaze, Misaki gave a shy smile.

"Come in. I'll make some tea."

We sat facing each other on the living room sofa.

We began with work follow-up.

But soon, it turned to personal matters.

Misaki sighed and looked down.

"Lately, I've been wanting someone I can trust. Work alone leaves my heart feeling empty."

I nodded.

"Same here. These trips make me feel so isolated; I just want a genuine connection with someone."

As our talk deepened, the air shifted.

Misaki's hand gently touched my knee.

A non-sexual warmth. But my body reacted anyway.

(Oh, so close... Her scent, that sweet shampoo aroma.)

I saw a hint of conflict in her eyes.

I felt the same. The walls around our hearts slowly melted.

Misaki leaned in closer.

"Shota, let's talk even nearer."

Her lips whispered in my ear.

Then, a light kiss.

The soft sensation shattered my restraint.

My hands naturally wrapped around her waist.

Her massive breasts pressed against my chest.

(So big... This weight, unbelievable. Her skin is hot.)

The kiss deepened.

Tongues intertwined, saliva mixing.

Misaki's hand lifted my shirt.

"Shota, are you nervous?"

Her voice was sweet as her fingers gently pinched my nipple.

I let out a gasp.

(This is beyond imagination. My nipple tingles.)

From innocent conversation to this.

With trembling hands, I removed Misaki's T-shirt.

Her G-cup breasts spilled out, encased in a bra.

Black lace barely contained the overflowing white flesh.

At the peaks, pink nipples stood plump and erect.

Poetically beautiful yet raw, my cock throbbed painfully hard.

"Touch them."

Misaki whispered.

I grasped her breasts with both hands.

So soft, my fingers sank in.

Yet they had weight.

Each knead made them ripple like waves.

(Oh, like a dream. Breasts like these, a first in my life.)

Rolling her nipples between my fingers, Misaki let out a small moan.

"Mmm... You're gentle, Shota."

Her hand reached for my pants.

She unzipped and gripped my cock.

(Damn, so hard. It's pulsing.)

Her palm was warm, moving slowly up and down.

The handjob felt incredibly good.

The sound of skin rubbing, her breathing.

The evening room filled with humid air.

Unable to hold back, I brought my mouth to her nipple.

Sucking with wet smacks.

It tasted sweet.

Misaki's other hand gripped my cock tighter.

"It's so hard... You're excited, huh?"

Her words made me swell further.

(Can't stop. This hand is perfect. Harder.)

She shifted, pushing me back onto the sofa.

Her breasts hovered over my face like a blanket.

Burying my nose in the valley, soft flesh walls blocked my breath.

I huffed muffled sounds.

She laughed softly, speeding up her strokes.

Pre-cum leaked from the tip, making it slick.

Her fingers teased the ridge, lifting my hips.

"Misaki... I'm about to come."

I gasped, kneading her breasts.

Their heft filled my hands.

Misaki's other hand slipped into her shorts, touching her pussy.

It was already wet there.

Her fingers slid in, making squelching sounds.

(The scent of her pussy, tangy and sweet. My cock slick with her juices.)

Climax approached.

Her hand pumped furiously.

Veins bulged on my cock, heat rising.

"Let it out... All of it."

At her words, I erupted.

Thick semen spurted onto her hand.

White, sticky fluid dripped between her fingers.

Misaki gently wiped it off and hugged me.

We basked in the afterglow.

Twilight light softly illuminated the room.

We pressed close, as if sharing the depths of our souls.

"Let's meet again, Shota."

I nodded at her words.

This encounter felt like the start of something lasting, not just a one-night thing.

The warmth of her breasts melted away my loneliness.

But deep down, wild thoughts still swirled.

(Next time, maybe... I want to slide into her pussy.)

From then on, our relationship continued.

Even after leaving the city, our messages never stopped.

Trust deepened our emotions.