Printer hummed low in the corner. I didn’t notice her at first. Turned right. Two stunning assistants, buns tight like mine. Red pencil skirts hugged their asses. They draped a short black velvet jacket over my shoulders. Soft fabric teased my skin. It barely skimmed my ass cheeks. Uncomfortable. I usually wore ankle-length skirts. They guided me down the marble-floored hall, hips swaying shamelessly. Magnetic pull. Heels clicked sharp on stone. At my ‘chamber’ door—boss’s private lounge—they stripped me slow. Naked before strangers. Same sex, though. Safe, right? Exhausted, I slipped under silk sheets. Dreamed it away.
Woke to soft elevator muzak. Needed a shower. Padded barefoot to the exec spa bath. Marble beige everywhere. Gold taps gleamed. Filled the jacuzzi tub. Hit the button. Bubbles erupted from hidden jets. Eyes shut. Bliss. Jets targeted my spots perfectly—nipples, clit. Hot air caressed pussy and tits. Hands pinched hardening nipples. Coffee scent wafted from the breakroom, mixed with their perfume lingering.
The Mounting Tension in the Open-Plan Maze
Noise snapped me alert. Door clicked locked. Couldn’t exit. Grabbed towel, wrapped tight. On the vanity chair: tiny white dress, stockings, heels like theirs. No panties. Dress stopped mid-thigh, lace tops peeking. Two front snaps—easy boob access. Felt slutty already. Opened lounge door. Assistants grabbed my hands. Warm palms. Led to massive conference room. Walking commando rubbed lips together. Hard nipples scraped fabric.
Hunger hit. Buffet table groaned: croissants, fruits, coffee. Devoured alone. Stomach full, they escorted back. Nap ordered. Rest before meeting the boss lady.
Woke to knock. Tennis? No—quick gym session prepped. Sports bra, panties included. Met her on the court. Back turned, bun high, neck long. Same outfit. Turned—stunning, 40-ish, crow’s feet sexy. Assistants knelt, kissed hands, inner thighs. Boss grazed their exposed tits under dresses. Weird greeting. They left. Alone with her. Intimidated. She took my hand. ‘Alice.’ Chatted over game. Post-match, lounge. Water poured. Neck kissed. Tongue lapped sweat bead.
“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” Heart raced. 26, untouched. “No shame. Let me teach you ecstasy. Like my mentor did. Leave panties on table if yes.”
Hesitated. Back to lounge. Panties dropped proud on glass table.
The Raw Explosion and Cool Mask
Cold shower later. Naked on bed. Door knock. Red dress time. No panties. Hallway lined with boss’s nude bust photos. Assistant paused at one. Hand under skirt. Fingers spread shaved lips wide. Moaned loud. Gush. Watched, pussy dripping down thighs. Door to boardroom—erotic murals etched glass. Blindfold on. Pulled in. Dress top unsnapped. Tits sprang free. Cold air. Legs spread. Skirt hiked. Bush exposed. Musky scent hit me. Kneeling sounds. Two tongues: one nipples, one thighs. Lapped close but no clit touch. Orders strict—no breaking hymen. Body burned. Guided to cold plunge pool. Slippery hands rolled stockings off slow. Legs wide on my own. Virgin slit winked, honey beading.
Cold shocked tits rigid. Tongues sucked, bit nipples. Cried out. Out of water. Blindfold off. Them—naked, shaved, perfect smiles. Soaped tits, played foam. One straddled view—dripping pussy. Drop hit my lip. Licked. Sweet.
Arms up, cold rinse. Blindfold back. Fan room—whirring air dried bush, teased inner lips. Tied to chair edge—no touching. Pussy puddle below. Cape on. To lounge.
Boss waited. Leather skirt, sheer blouse—no bra. Dark nipples hard. White virgin outfit for me. Strolled ‘stables’—exec garage. Horse neigh? No, her sports car revved. But skipped—dogs in courtyard. One growled. Boss hiked skirt. Shaved mound. Dog sniffed, licked frenzy. She came hard, eyes locked on mine. Fire in my cunt.
Grabbed my hand. Patio chairs. Skirt off. Edge sit. Legs spread. Bush glistened, horse-sweat? Car leather scent. She knelt. Sniffed my virgin musk. Tongue neared…