The French Intern

Impossible not to notice her on her first day, as the HR rep was showing her the facilities and introducing her to other staff members. Most of the employees in my IT company were unfortunately male; her appearance was a welcome sudden distraction. She was wearing a light summer dress that was stopping in the middle of her thighs, and as she was walking around, most of us were staring at her divine figure. The new intern was really hot: a curvaceous early twenties redhead with a lovely freckled nose, a magnificent pair of breasts and above all, an amazing round ass wiggling between the desks. The HR guy stopped in front of me, and introduced me:

— This is Mike, he is one of our software dev managers, you will probably work with him for some tasks. Mike, this is Ludivine – she is from France.

Ludivine stretched her hand, and smiled a big smile that raised her already round cheeks.

— Hello, nice to meet you! she said with a strong French accent.
— Hello, I responded, taking her hand. “Enchanté” and welcome!
— Thank you!
— How long will you be with us?
— Two months, the whole summer. I am very pleased to be with you.

Her deep green eyes drilled into mine. Her round face with high cheekbones, framed by some fire red hair, was angelic.

— Congratulations, your English is perfect, I lied, to be polite with the cute girl.

She laughed.

— Thank you, but I still have a lot of progress to make!
— Well, welcome again Ludivine, good luck!

As much as I wanted to chit-chat with the lovely “demoiselle,” I had to get back to work. I couldn’t afford to waste time. I had a big project to complete, and I certainly couldn’t spend too much time exchanging pleasantries with her. The HR guy dragged the beauty, and, as she was leaving in plumes of subtle perfume, she turned around and gave me another one of her amazing smiles, as her hips were swinging to avoid the lines of desks. I sighed a long sigh, the summer was going to be a long one.

I didn’t see Ludivine much the first few days. She had been placed on another floor, and was appearing sometimes with some idiots from the sixth floor, who seemed to speak louder than usual around her. On my side, I was working harder than ever on my project, which was taking of all my time, as the deadlines were looming.

At the end of the second week, I had the surprise to discover an email from Ludivine in my inbox: one of the analysts had contacted her to see if she was available for an urgent task on out project. One of the deliverables was some documentation in French required by a Canadian customer. This kind of things was usually taken care of by a specialised external company, but the project manager had neglected that request, and it was now too late to start the process. The analyst had therefore thought of the French intern to complete that task. Ludivine was contacting me to get more details on the task and was proposing to meet me that morning. I responded with an invite for a meeting at my desk, and continued with my other urgent tasks.

Around the time of the meeting, she arrived at my desk, under the stares of most men of the open space, wearing a business suit, with a knee-length pencil skirt. Her hair was tied in a cute little bun. he was all smiles again.

— Hi, Mike, right?
— That’s me, great memory!

She pulled a free chair from another desk towards me.

— So, what is that document that I need to translate?

I opened the document, and spent a few minutes explaining the context of the project. I then went through the content of the document to help understand the task. As I was explaining all this, I was fully aware that Ludivine, bending over to get a better view of my screen, had laid her chest on her crossed forearms, slightly touching me. I had to pull my chair a few times to avoid touching her, but she seemed to misunderstand my gesture for an invitation to get closer to the screen. She must have been slightly short-sighted, as she was squinting at the screen, which was raising her cheeks full of freckles in a cute little pout. Hard to remain professional in front of this exquisite picture.

Once my explanations complete, I concluded:

— We need it to be done before COB tomorrow to send to the client first thing in the morning on Thursday. I am sending you the document now, I think this should leave you enough time. Do you think you can do it?

She turned to me, looking serious.

— Yes, it seems feasible. 14 pages, including the diagrams. Well, let’s get to work! She said with a large smile.

She left as she came, leaving behind swirls of her perfume, her hips drawing again sinful curves in the air. I could not help but staring at this amazing backside. She turned around briefly. Shit. Busted.

Ludivine had completed her task on time. The customer had received the document, and no comment was made, which was an excellent sign. The intern had saved our asses.

From this day onward she started to get more involved in my project, and she was appearing on my floor more and more often — without the morons from the sixth floor, pheeew — sometimes to ask questions, sometimes to ask for advice on something she was working on, and sometimes just to say hello. She was a model employee, and to see her turn up in the open plan was always a ray of sun. But her curves were starting to drive me mad, and she seemed to be playing with the attraction she had on me. Our conversations were getting more personal and, once or twice, she ventured a somewhat filthy joke. On my side, I was well aware of the policies in place in the company regarding sexual harassment, I was allowing myself no mistake: I loved my job, I was not going to lose for the beautiful eyes of an intern. Or not even for her lovely arse. And yet…

One Friday morning, as she came to ask questions on a new module we had just shipped, wearing a long flowery skirt and a low-cut top, she was being more naughty than usual. Was it the excitement of the upcoming weekend, I don’t know, but she was wiggling her arse in front of me and I was finding it hard to remain calm. As she was leaving again, another shake of her hips, I was getting seriously pissed off.

— Ludivine, I called her.
— Yes? she said innocently, as she was coming back.
— You have got to stop.
— Stop what? she laughed.

My situation was becoming precarious. How to breach the subject without becoming the pig in the story, the one staring at young interns’ bottoms? Maybe I should drop a quiet word to HR.

— Just… stop, OK?

She came closer to me, and in a low voice, with this adorable accent:

— Or else what?
— Or else, you don’t know what is going to come over you, I said without thinking. So much for professionalism…
— Well tell me. That way I’ll be warned.

Large cheeky smile.

I came close to her, and using the same tone of voice:

— Careful to your sweet little arse.
— Promises, promises… she said.

She turned around, in a big laugh. Another swing of hips, she left me alone with my anger. She was going too far.

The following Monday I met Ludivine in the corridor, wearing a tight pair of black yoga pants, as she returning from a run at lunch time — I could even make out the thin lines of her G-string. She greeted me with a playful “hi!” I could only grunt some response back.

From then on, every time I was running into her, I was getting a demonstration of the assets of the redhead: a heavy breast hitting me in a corridor that I swear was wide enough to accommodate an oliphaunt along with his riding haradrim; a buttock bouncing in front of me as she was picking up some random paper on the floor… That summer, I was wanking non-stop, thinking about the intern and the punishments I was imagining for her — even sometimes in the washroom at work.

As summer was progressing, the temperatures were getting unbearable, and Ludivine’s clothes were getting shorter. The office was getting less crowded: people were either on holidays in France or Spain, or simply working from home to avoid commuting during the heatwave. One morning, as I was arriving at work by bike, covered in sweat in the already scorching sun even by British standards, I bumped into Ludivine, who was wearing a tight green sleeveless shirt and a white miniskirt. She came close to me, and with a finger she collected a pearl of sweat on my cheek.

— Oh Mike, so handsome after a workout!

She spun around and left. Once again, I could not take away my eyes from this voluptuous behind which appeared furtively as her skirt was spinning. I could not repress a growl, a primary hoarse sound, raising from my annoyance, my anger, my sexual frustration. I heard the familiar sweet laugh at the end of the corridor, then she disappeared.

The cold shower I had then in the locker room helped me calm down this intense animal feeling that had got hold of me. I put on my clothes and spent the day focusing on work, trying to forget that intern bitch that was driving nuts.

In the evening, I went back to the locker room to put on my bike gear. Ludivine emerged out of it, wearing that black pair of yoga pants, outlining her tempting curves, her hair held together in a messy bun, as she was getting ready to go for a run.

— So, how do I look? I follow your example, I am going for a sweat.

She turned around.

— Ludivine, stop! I yelled, furious.
— Or careful to my sweet little arse, is that it?
— Yes, I said icily.
— My sweet little arse has been waiting for weeks to be put back into its place.

I think at this moment a few neurons have blew up in my head. I took her wrist, and dragged into the locker room with a brutality I did not know I had in me. The impish smile was still on that angelic freckled face.

— Oh yes, punish me!

I pushed her firmly against the wall, and in a brusque move, I pulled down legging and G-string, while my other hand was holding her back. She let out a whimper of surprise. I grunted in her ear:

— I warned you.
— Yes, you did, she whispered.

I took my cock out my pants, already rock hard, ready to take her. And without a warning, I grabbed it and pushed it between those butt cheeks, pressing hard against the intern’s anus, who was now wiggling against the wall.

— Oh yes, take my arse… no one… no one has ever done it to me.

I pushed, hard, and slowly my cock entered the young woman, as I was pressing against her. Never my dick had felt so big and hard, never had I been so possessed with lust. Ludivine was groaning, between pain and excitement, but she was pushing her butt against me, as if to get me as deep as possible in her.

— Yes, yes, I like it, I feel so full!

Another thrust of the hips, I went even deeper into her. I knew at that moment that I would not hold long. I was going to empty a whole summer of frustration deep inside this young redhead succubus with long streaks of cum. Another thrust. Another one. I gasp, without slowing down. She whimpers, as her hand makes it way to her clitoris to rub it furiously.

— I am going to cum in your arse, you little bitch, grabbing a handful of her hair.
— Yes, yes… yes, she whispered, out of ready, close to orgasm.

I had never spoken so crudely during sex, I had never desired a woman with such animal intensity. My cock, held firm by the muscles of her clenching arsehole, exploded. I came with violence, I let out a loud grunt in her ear, in my last push deep inside her. She came soon after, frantically flicking her clitoris, as I was still holding her against the wall.

We collapsed on the floor, exhausted. As she fell into my arms, she looked into my eyes, with a look a tired bliss, and kissed me softly.

— Thanks for taking care of this wicked intern, Mike. I sure deserved it.

I smiled down at her, mellowed by her lovely accent, as red strands of hair were framing her beautiful face. I knew that she would need to be taught a few more lessons before the end of the summer.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/rwobvj/the_french_intern