Boss’s office. Door clicks locked. Printer hums low. Coffee scent mixes with my nervous perfume. Heart pounds. He dictates Nat’s contract. My fingers fly on keyboard. ‘Her body mine. Naked at home. No panties outside. Lend to anyone.’ I blush crimson. Thighs clench.
Nat arrives. Strips bare. Legs spread, hands behind head. I hold papers for her to read. Eyes glued to floor. Her pussy lips glisten. Door creaks faintly outside. Mouse clicks echo from open space.
The Building Tension
Days blur. Friday eve: ‘Dress feminine, Aménia.’ Weekend looms. Monday: skirt, blouse. ‘Stunning.’ I flush, flee. Evening: ‘Unbutton top two.’ Tuesday: open neckline. Tease of cleavage.
Wednesday: ‘Shorter skirt. Show legs.’ Thursday: higher hem. Bare thighs brush. Friday: ‘No bra like Nat. Your tits rival hers.’ Monday: braless. Nipples poke fabric. ‘Sexier than ever.’ Cock strains his pants. I see it.
His birthday. ‘One button per entry.’ Four calls. Printer spits pages. By afternoon, one button left. Eve: blouse gapes. Tits strain, held by skirt waist. Kiss on cheek. Body trembles. Perfume clings.
Next day: ‘All open, facing me.’ Fingers fumble. Breasts spill free. Perfect, firm. No sag. He stares. ‘Gorgeous.’ Pull from skirt. Full view. Nipples harden.
Friday: ‘Always open in here.’ Pans part. Tits dance free. ‘Untuck.’ Pussy tingles exposed. Week off looms. ‘Mini skirt, no panties like Nat.’ Return: white sheer mini. Slit side. Bare lips peek. Shaved smooth.
‘Perturbed?’ ‘No panties.’ Blush burns. ‘Lift.’ Skirt up. ‘Full view.’ Turn. Ass cheeks perfect. ‘Epilate fully.’ Done. Glabrous slit shines.
The Explosive Release
New rule: ‘Blouse only.’ Next morn: short blouse. Pussy bare, lips puffy. Coffee brews. Door locked.
Contract time. ‘For you. Nat witnesses.’ Admit: ‘In love, Sir.’ Friday 11am. Nat nude. Door shut. Click. I enter blouse-open. Hand papers.
‘Undress her, Nat.’ Blouse off. Naked. Legs spread wide. Hands head. Read clauses. ‘My pleasure first. Body yours. Obey.’ Sign. Nat too.
‘Thank me.’ ‘Fuck me, Sir.’ ‘Wrong. Obey only.’ Nat kneels. Tits mash mine. Nipples grind. Kiss devours. Tongue invades.
Lips trail. Suck nipples. Bite light. Desk edge bites thighs. Legs quake. Tongue hits clit. Laps fast. Slurps wet. Fingers plunge. Gush. Scream muffled. Office walls thin? Orgasms crash. Juices drip desk.
Panting. Nat licks clean. Boss grins. ‘New life. Move to Nat’s. Naked. Serve.’ Adjust blouse hasty. Tits tucked. Skirt? No, gone. Slip on somehow. Door unlocks. Click. Back to desk. Colleagues glance. Perfume masks pussy scent. Meeting next. Act normal. Thighs slick. Smile pro. Inside: slave now.