Martha Lane Fox, Baroness Lane-Fox of Soho
It was a long Friday afternoon. I had three customer reports to finish and send out by the end of the day, and they were proving a struggle to complete.

As things would have it, the nation’s favourite technology czar, Martha Lane Fox, had called into my company for the day. She was collecting statistics for whatever her latest government programme was. To be honest, it sounded as boring as my job and she surely felt as under-employed in her role as I did in mine.

Well, as time was dragging by, she dropped by my desk. The office was deserted due to an earlier fire alarm, and there was only us.

“Hey Chut”

Shes aging a bit from the fresh faced posh totty of the nineties dotcom boom, but shes still got it in a distinguished mature way. I immediately gave her my most helpful smile.

“I need some… staples. Can you show me where they are?”

“Sure Martha, just this way”

So I lead her into our surprisingly spacious stationery cupboard.
She sidled in close to me as I reached up to the top shelf. I could feel her sweet breath in my ear.

“Christ, I’m bored of this life Chut. I’m 40 now, did you know that? Never married. No kids. I was the poster child of the dotcom boom. I could do anything. Then it all went tits up, and ever since the only job I’ve been able to do is to show old biddies how to use a mouse. They still shower me with plaudits, but what was it all really for? I’m bored in this gilded cage. “

She moved in close. Oh, she smelt good. Her hands weren’t reaching for the staples anymore.

“You’re like me. You could have done so much. But although you’ve got a way with the customers, all you are made to do is complete spreadsheets. Sometimes… I like to live dangerously.”

And then she was entwined around me. I tried to resist, but then gave in to her warm probing tongue. At first it was gentle, and then we made our embrace tighter.

And before I knew it, after a flurry of undressing, I had the Baroness Lane-Fox of Soho impaled on the end of my cock. She held around my hips and hissed into my ear :”Yess…”

We ground up the pace. She was becoming moister. The rolls of prit-stick started to fall over and roll off their shelves.

“Oh Chut, oh Chut, oh Chut…”

She powered up and down her impalement like a well oiled machine. The feel of her older flesh was magical. Her glorious blond hair flowed freely like the balls of postal twine that were being banged around their shelves.

“Oh Martha! Oh Martha!” I yelled as I neared my final release of digital inclusion.

And… well, I can dream. It’s a slow Friday afternoon, and these customer reports aren’t going to write themselves.
(chutneyweasel, Fri 6 Dec 2013, 16:03, 3 replies)

shut up, virgins

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Fri 6 Dec 2013, 16:08, closed)

She is the epitome, possibly the seminal example, of an LRF
Low Resolution Fox. Used to denote a female who may appear to be attractive either in a low resolution picture, or when viewed from afar in real life. However, on closer inspection it is revealed that she is in fact, fugly.
(rogerzilla, Fri 6 Dec 2013, 21:30, closed)

^ What bitchtits said.
I googled. Came away disappointed.

Raise your wank-fantasy standards.
(s0ckpuppet logging out to reply to you if you're not careful, Fri 6 Dec 2013, 22:03, closed)