Upon request from a very special follower of mine, here’s my first stab at writing erotica from a male perspective: a little office sex fantasy to brighten up the workweek!
So tonight is the night before the proverbial big deal is to close. Tomorrow morning the head guy on the sell side, and I,and all of our various lieutenants and flunkies will be sitting on opposite sides of the large oak boardroom table, having a metaphorical dick measuring contest, as some have taken to calling it, to see who gets the better end of this deal. Millions are st stake and tensions are high, but this…
THIS is what I live for: modern day single combat against a worthy adversary
Well, that and other things…
I’m hunched over my desk, brow furrowed as I pore over piles of documents and financial esoterica, probing for any potential weakness in tomorrow’s strategy.
All of the clock-watchers have gone home, and The office is dimly lit, save for my desk lamp and, hundreds of feet below us, the red and white river of late-night traffic visible on the highway outside my floor to ceiling window
Just in case this becomes an all-nighter, I’m wearing one of my no nonsense white savile row shirts that I pull out for important negotiations
My Tie is loosened at the neck, top two buttons undone to show just a sliver of chest… French cuff sleeves unbuttoned and rolled to mid forearm.
Unbeknownst to me, I am under silent surveillance, as you stand breathless and motionless as a statue at the threshold of my office door, studying me.
You take a minor thrill observing me in these unguarded moments, imagining who the man is behind the ourward facing persona. You ponder what my home life is like, what my wife looks like, our quarrels and routines and rituals, and what it looks like and sounds like when we make love.
You’ve had a rough start in the big city ever since school ended, hard for a working girl to meet new people, and the ones you do meet seem long on overgrown boys and short on men who really strike your fancy. Perhaps as a result, you’ve begun to harbor a certain schoolgirlish crush on me that has lately threatened to metastasize into a serious distraction, even openly fantasizing about making a pass, but thus far, you’ve always stopped short. But it has occurred to you to wonder how long you can go on this way.
You planned your attire well for this occasion: high heeled pumps that make your toned athlete’s legs look especially shapely; thigh high black lace-trimmed stockings, a tight charcoal-gray pencil skirt that beautifully hugs the curve of your firm backside.
Sheer black lingerie under a sheer purple silk blouse, sheer enough to just barely betray the first telltale signs of your arousal. Makeup impeccable, wholesomely pretty and not garish. Your long hair is pulled up into as loose a bun as you can get away with, held in place with a tortoiseshell clip that can be easily removed in an instant to achieve the desired effect when needed, your lovely locks cascading down over your shoulders to frame your blushing, winsome face.
Every detail of your outward appearance is brilliantly calculated to precisely hit the plausibly-deniable sweet spot of workplace appropriateness: Sexy yet restrained, form-fitting but not boastful, conservative but not frumpish or matronly. The perfect recipe to turn heads and raise pulses without appearing forward or attracting catty gossip.
You lean against the threshold of my office door in what you think is a demure and nonchalant pose.
In reality, you’ve given yourself away… your pupils are dilated, in spite of the dim lighting, and your otherwise even voice, is just slightly shaky from your elevated heart rate
“Mr. King, is there anything at all I can get you?” you ask in your sweetest sugar-and-spice voice, silently cringing as you wonder if you’re laying it on too thick.
“I could murder an espresso right now, if it’s not too much trouble? Thanks, it’s Gonna be a late one, I’m afraid.”
Something about the way I said “gonna be a late one” doesn’t quite sit right with you, and we lock eyes for a brief moment, just long enough for us both to be aware it’s half a beat too long, and if you didn;t know better, you’d swear there was a twinkle in my eye, and that the corners of my mouth were just slightly turning up into the faintest smile.
Shaking your head slightly to pattern-interrupt the awkwardness, You about-face and saunter off to the break room, unaware of what’s happenign behind you. You don’t hear the springs creak as I stand up from my chair, nor my footsteps on the low-pile carpet. I’ve practiced this move many times, rising from my chair as light as a cat, and furtively poking my head out into the corridor to savor the visual delight of watching you leave, the curves of your voluptuous body swaying seductively as they strain against the fabric of your ensemble.
Satisfied that I’m maintaining a safe, following distance, I creep heel-to-toe down the corridor toward the small kitchenette.
Your attention occupied with finessing the fickle DeLonghi machine into behaving itself, you don’t hear the footsteps approaching behind you
You don’t notice my presence at all until you feel a warm puff of breath followed by a soft, slow kiss to the side of your neck, and then two strong arms slithering around your waist from behind, fastening you in a firm embrace, open hands cupping your ample breasts through the satin fabric of your blouse.
Every muscle in your body tenses instantly, fearing an intruder is in the building, and you let out an involuntary gasp.
Your fears are allayed when a calm deep voice breathes a single syllable into your ear:
“Hi”
Your shoulders slacken, partially, relieved for your safety but still flabbergasted.
Mr. King, w-What are you doing?” You stammer, noting that your pulse is suddenly ringing fast and loud in your ears.
“Exactly what you want, except that I took the initiative so you didn’t have to.
You attempt to vocalize a word of bewildered protest, but no sound escapes your lips. Your words are swallowed up into a gasp as a great sinful shiver courses down your spine, owing to the pleasure of silk fabric against your rapidly-engorging nipples, as I gently knead your full breasts together in one long, languid stroke.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/shinsj/boss_and_secretary_fantasy_part_i
So good