And after I made sure to lock the door, so as not to arouse any suspicion from those coworkers of mine who lurk incessantly, I retreated slowly to my desk, having shown my sweet Sam tenderly into her seat. And when I (in such a professional manner) guided her down, I took special care to let my hand fall snugly around her shoulder, sending me into an ambitious giddiness, such as are dominoes when toppled.
And how defenseless I was when some strands of hair, doubtlessly having gone unaccounted for by my thoughtless princess in tying her hair up – in a rush to visit your humble narrator, brushed against my unworthy skin, delivering unexpected tingles through my arm! Oh, the drunkenness one feels in the presence of nature’s innocent creations, especially as the holder of the knowledge that those petals shall soon be plucked in ecstatic relishing.
Now having to think so devilishly through a dizzying head high brought on by my sweet flower, I did what came naturally – in order to afford myself some precious time to deliberate on my darling’s deflowering.
“Miss Samantha, might I offer you a cup of fresh coffee? I’ve just put some on for the afternoon.” And what manners this young daisy has been taught, for she obliged herself in perfect submission to her good host’s request.
Having only sat for a moment at my desk, I reached into the bottom cabinet to fetch a pair of mugs. This bottom drawer is home to several miscellaneous items not withholding the coffee cups – stray sugar and cream, a brush and paste for late nights, a sprawling collection of pens in varying condition, and – yes! My collection of medicine. Dear reader, that brain of mine is constantly finding new ways to surprise me!
I procured two mugs and then sent my beguiled hand slithering amongst cold and flu medicines, and antihistamines, directly to my prescribed bottle of alprazolam (known colloquially as Xanax), given to me by a concerned doctor when hearing of my spells of anxiety prior to giving useless but necessary presentations at our quarterly meetings.
And so, I did what any passable actor would do in my situation – I feigned some sense of confusion and crafted some less-than-clever excuses for me to remain intimately engaged with the bottom shelf, my daisy (bless her soul) blissfully unaware and still just as eager to fulfill my request of accepting an afternoon coffee. I tactfully spun the lid from the bottle and poured two – no, three – into the mug of my unbenounced lover.
And with a relieved smile, I made my way over to the far side of my office where the coffee carafe rested in the corner. I could not wipe my smile away as I poured the piping brown liquid onto the delicate white tablets, already imagining them dissolved and passing over the tongue of my fated flower girl. Without asking, I added a fair amount of sugar to hers, as it is a general trend of delightful beauties to prefer all things that enter them to have a tinge of sweetness. I could not deny its doubled effect of masking any incidental taste that was left by my insidious concoction. I took mine black.
Having set the stage for my sweet daisy to open her petals in the face of my morning sun, I had only to distract her precious and simple mind long enough for the inevitable to commence without too much fear or surprise. In fact, in all my excitement, I did not even return to the chair behind my desk, but rather elected to casually slouch against the front edge of my desk and carry on with our conversation; for I longed to have her voice ring in my ear as long as possible before she became too encumbered to do more than coo and moan at my devilish stimulations.
As often as I pressed her for silly and useless information (such as the names and contact information of a myriad of coordinators, managers, and secretaries) did I also press her to sip her potion, constructed so brilliantly by yours truly. It wasn’t long before I began picking up on the clues of her gradual intoxication. Her focus became fuzzy and wavered in its clarity, and how adorable were her misplaced words and drawn-out pronunciations! Her melting into formless putty in my fiendish hands imbued me with a sense of confidence unknown to me.
For one, I helped her over to the old leather loveseat tucked in the front corner of my office. It occasionally served as a bed during late nights, but now my drooping daisy needed a safe place to rest her head. I encouraged her to keep sipping her coffee and would help her raise it to her mouth as her eyes flickered with saccadic movement and her words revealed her thoughts slipping from their normally intact (although juvenile) fluency. Bringing her to the loveseat had afforded me to hold my daisy by her slim and relatively straight waist, and I took certain liberties with her than a man of my age should be mocked or slapped for committing.
Oh, my darling! You might be deflowered by this rotten man, but perhaps spared of your conscious purity! It could be that you might think this all to be a very confusing, stimulating, pleasure-drenched dream attached to the mug of this unworthy tormenter. Your head hung limp back against the loveseat and I let my fingers gently trace the outline of your delicate features, across your tanned skin and plush lips. My fingers trembled in pure joy. I placed my nose into the crux of your jaw and neck and just breathed you in for what could have been all of recorded history. I placed my first gentle kiss along the nape of your neck and spoke your name only in whispers, for fear of what those demonic coworkers of mine might be trying to overhear from their lifeless cubicles.
I kissed all the way down your neck and onto your relatively flat chest. Oh, I could feel some hard beast whirring its big head from my nether region. My fingertips greedily traced their way around every square inch of your neck and arms and now chest. My sweet daisy could not have been more adorable! Like a child in imaginative play, you moaned along with my touches and reaffirmed me with some gentle laughter, especially when my sweet kisses found their way over your firm and fleshy nipples.
*Dear reader, I could drown you in a sea of words describing what has commenced henceforth – and rest assured, I will. I know that I have carried you on for so long at this point and shall release you with this abrupt but surely welcomed close for this episode. Let this dutiful author enjoy his crafted fantasy for a while before I move along to the next scene, which is among my favorite to recount – the joyous deflowering ceremony carried out by yours truly, a despicably desire-ridden wretch. Until next time.*
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/123aubw/picking_daisies_part_ii_34m_20f_dub_con