A Bad Afternoon

I call him into the office. He's not working hard enough, the team are frustrated that they're having to pick up his slack and subtle attempts at correcting his behaviour have not been received. It's time to get serious.

He walks into my office, shuts the door and smiles at me as if he's here for a treat. I invite him to sit down, but he decides to stay standing not by my desk, but to the side of it. Fine. If that's how he wants to play it...

I cut straight to the point explaining why he is here, the context of the problem, what behaviours I had observed and the implications of all of this on the rest of the team. He listens and nods along. Then I ask if he has anything to add, anything he feels I need to understand that I am not currently aware of and he moves closer. He's now leaning on the edge of my desk, a few feet from me with no table between us.

"You are the reason that I don't get any work done,'' he explains calmly. "You...with your sexy outfits, your cute mannerisms and your flirtatious actions. How am I supposed to concentrate and work hard? You intentionally tempt me. Yet you seek to reprimand me? You're out of line and you know it." I stare at him unsure what to say. Where did that come from? I have no idea. I'm nothing if not professional and I definitely don't treat him any differently to the rest of the team. Yet he is so certain. Just the way he looks at me makes me want to defend my innocence, but now his hand is on my thigh - when did it get there? It's slipping under my skirt. I need to stop him before his fingers reach my...oh God! He smiles and proudly proclaims that I'm wet and he always knew I was a slut.

That's all it takes. I jump back. I'm no slut and his actions have been totally out of line. A sackable offence. With distance in place, I begin to explain the seriousness of his actions. What the process is for the next steps of competencies and that he needs to leave my office. Now.

He moves as if to leave, but at the last minute comes close to my ear and says how he's going to leave this room and tell everyone how much of a slut I am. That he didn't haven't to work as hard because he was giving me orgasms in exchange for an easy ride and that now people were complaining I felt bad and called it off. That's why he was being put on competencies. I stare at him to see if he's joking. Surely not? All I see in his eyes is defiance.

Don't! I say. And a glint appears in his eyes. Show me your breasts he demands. No! Then he turns to walk to the door and I know that everyone will wonder if it's true and I really am a slut. He's got me and he knows it.

I begin unbuttoning my shirt slowly as I refuse to meet his eyes. I'm determined to get it over with. When all the buttons are done, I spread the shirt wide and, with a triumphant 'There!' I show him my tits before starting to cover them again. He stops me. That's your bra not your breasts. I roll my eyes and reach behind before he stops me again. He doesn't want me to undo it and take it off, he wants the cups pulled down and my boobs spilling out over the top! Properly like a slut. Like I'm so desperate to get them out that I couldn't be bothered to undress properly. I do it. What choice do I have?

Then he comes closer. I stand there ignoring him and he circles around me. My breasts hanging out for all to see. God I feel exposed. It wouldn't have been so bad if he'd undone my clothes, but he hadn't so much as touched me! He'd just told me to and I'd done it! I am just like the slut he said I am. And now he is so close I can feel his body heat. I notice now that he's unzipped his trousers and is stroking himself as he watches me. I long to watch his hand, so I close my eyes. I don't want to react to this man. This is not what I had planned for my afternoon!

With my eyes closed, I don't notice until it's too late. He cups my breasts and I let out a moan. Where did that come from? The last thing I need is him thinking I'm enjoying myself. I bite my lip to stop any other sounds escaping and scowl as he comes up behind me pressing his thick erection against my ass at the same moment he teases my nipples. God it feels good.

He starts talking in my ear about how he knew I'd make such a good slut and how I was his now. I want to complain. I want to pull rank. I want it to stop, but every time I am just about to resist, he touches or kisses or pinches just the right amount to distract me and now I am on fire with need. The touching I am getting isn't enough.

He senses it too and slides his hand up my skirt. I don't even pretend to stop him. Am I resigned or hopeful? I don't know anymore. What he finds there pleases him no end. I'm dripping. As he's circling my clit, he tells me what's going to happen next. He's going to fuck me on my desk where someone may walk in or call me for a meeting at any minute. He's going to make me cum so that everyone who enters the office will smell the sex and know what a slut I am.

I whimper as he tells me to remove my underwear, lay back on my desk and ensure my legs are spread nice and wide for him. He wants to stare at me. Exposed. My breasts hanging out and my drenched pussy being unable to hide. Just when I think it can't get any worse, he has my phone in his hand and starts taking pictures. I don't want reminders of this slutty behaviour! He smiles and tells me that there will be phone spot checks to ensure that they're still on my phone. If he finds they've been deleted, he'll take them on his own phone next time and I will have no control over what he does with them. I definitely don't want that.

He starts rubbing his cock along my bare pussy and my hips rock into the sensation. It feels so good. My clit is aching for more attention. The circles earlier were only enough to get her riled up. Suddenly, he's slipping inside and I can feel every inch. He's definitely thick. Spreading me wide. He's going deliciously slowly and rubbing my clit even more slowly. I start to wriggle in an attempt to gain the traction I want and he smiles. Do you know how much of a dirty slut you're being right now, he asks? You're exposed with your clothes pushed up writhing in your own desk. Tell me what a slut you are.

I stare at him. Surely he wouldn't make me say it? Sure I was as he said but he could just take me, I wasn't fighting him! Why would he make me say it? I stared for a while longer and he stopped moving. I pout and try to wiggle my pussy but he has me pinned. Say it. I mumble under my breath to call it done. I just want to feel his cock more! He doesn't accept it. Of course he doesn't! I give in and tell him what a dirty slut I am and how badly I want to feel his cock taking me on my desk. And that's all it takes.

Before I realise it, I'm being flipped over. Bent over my desk with my breasts squashed against its surface and unable to help with the fucking I was recieving. He pushes all of that thick cock into me over and over again as I moan and whimper into my arm trying not to make enough noise to attract attention. It's delicious. I love it more than I care to admit and the relief is just what I needed.

When we're done, he cleans himself up and puts himself away whilst I'm still recovering and bent over my desk. He pockets my panties and takes another picture on my phone before smirking and leaving me alone in my office to put myself back together again.

Just as I've straightened myself out and started to get my brain back into work mode I get a text message. You need to come and show me one of those pictures at my desk before everyone leaves for the day. Remind me what a dirty slut you are. Next time I'll spank your ass so that every time you sit in a meeting you think of me and how you like to pretend you're a good girl when we both know you're really not. I read the message several times and shudder. Why on earth was I wet again?