With a simple chime and text splayed across screen - What are you wearing for the meeting? - Savannah found her work day swiftly improved. His unexpected inquiry briefly distracted productivity as she stumbled over how to reply. She hastily started typing - Are you asking after what everyone can see or what you - before regrouping.
Surveying an empty office, her glance fell to her tits and she felt herself a genius for wearing her favorite bra today. One finger tugged her low-cut dress down a little further while another hit capture on a close-up of her cleavage and a hint of her smirk. Glancing at the image, attempting impartial judgement, she assigned a dayum and hit send. Immediately her body flooded with a healthy balance of fear and excitement, and she squirmed in her chair until the reply finally came through - Very inappropriate workplace behavior - and her heart hit the floor, until his next.
Good thing you have an inappropriate boss.
- -
"Sir?" she tentatively whispered. His eyes remained tethered to his desktop screen, barely registering another human stood present. Mhmmm rumbled from his throat.
"Master?" she inquired a little louder and his head whipped her direction. Blood rushed from frontal lobes to loins. She hadn't used that form of address before, but the attention it now commanded forced her to bookmark it in her lexicon. His eyes caught her silhouetted in his office door frame wearing a small black dress and tall heels that accented her own frame quite nicely. It seemed to have the desired effect as his eyebrows rose, chair swiveled, and one hand motioned for her to enter.
"I don't hear that too often," he chuckled before putting his devilish grin away and returning to business. "How can I help you," he uttered with distinct authority; less a question, more a command. She assumed from the earlier playfulness that he wanted to see her, but he held his gaze waiting for her to infuse the moment with some semblance of company credibility. Of course, she thought to herself, he shouldn't initiate anything. Or he wants me to beg.
"Well, I accidentally deleted one of the accounts from my portfolio... and," her eyes fell as she lost confidence in her scheme, "I know that requires some punishment before.. you.. restore it with your private backup," as her voice trailed off.
"Savannah," he started, and her body involuntarily softened at his vocalization of her name. Knees weak, her eyes rose just enough to catch a brief smile play across his lips as he continued, "You're so sure I have a back up for you to use?"
Stepping forward, she volleyed, "Well, yes, that seems like a precautionary measure you would take, Sir." A glint in his eyes joined questioning eyebrows, so she continued, "And you seem to play it safe...Am I wrong, Sir?" Another smile crossed his lips - one that she didn't quite know how to interpret.
"You're not wrong about deserving punishment, especially in that attire," as his eyes danced across her figure. Opting not to answer directly, "That little distraction you sent earlier got me a bit behind, and I would appreciate your assistance before we restore that account." Savannah noted his disregard for her 'playing it safe' comment. Seriousness returned to his voice as he turned back to his computer and continued, "I'm assuming we're close to, if not the last ones here tonight but," as he resumed typing, "Please close the door."
Savannah turned from him to comply and, although she could still hear his fingers typing, she could feel his eyes now burning into her backside. Taking her time stepping back to the door, giving his eyes a chance to wander, she mentally reassessed. While they had flirted for quite some time now, nothing too dangerous had happened... yet; now she simply couldn't get him out of her mind. The way he teased her over messages had become too much and she needed to see what this man was capable of in the physical form.
When she turned from the closed door, Savannah found his eyes again bound to the screen and rolled her own. As she made her way towards his desk, she inquired casually, "So how can I help?"
Typing discontinued as he sat taller and twisted his head her way with eyebrows raised.
"How can I help you, sir?" she tried.
He smirked with a head tilt, encouraging more from her.
"How can I help you, Master?" she tried again.
A grin and twinkle in his gorgeous eyes solidified it.
- -
"Let me show you what I've been working on," he stated, so seriously that she obediently put on her good little worker hat. "I need you to take over this, and show me a final draft by the end of day tomorrow," he continued solemnly, and she replaced her salacious agenda with an earnest attempt to get a better view of his screen. Leaning across his desk, she scanned the open document, searching for identifying markers and patterns. As her eyes flitted across his screen, she could feel his shift towards her tits, now in rather close proximity to his face as she hunched forward.
"Why don't you come around for a better view," he suggested gently. It wasn't a demand, nor a question, but an invitation to allow him the lead. She took it, and floated around to his side of the desk. There was no extra chair near though, so she paused standing at his side. With a soft chuckle, he reached a hand to her lower back and guided her to his out-stretched leg. Had anyone else tried such a way to get her close, she would have scoffed at the audacity; with him and the tingle that now ran up her spine... well, she took a seat.
"I promise I won't bite," he advised playfully as his eyes returned to his screen. Oh, she thought, but I really hope you would.
- -
At her regular communal desk far from the executive enclave, Savannah had always found her boss handsome and alluring, but ultimately dangerous fodder for her fantasies. Sitting on his lap now, she found him downright intoxicating. She could barely focus on the words coming from his mouth, commands directing her fingers where to click and what to type and how to finish this so-far very mundane project, when his cock was mere inches from her ass and his musk flooded her senses.
Fantasies running rampant, Savannah's focus slipped and suddenly she felt his fingers overlay hers to redirect the mouse. He caught her off guard, unfortunately, and her hand flinched so dramatically that she sent a nearby jar flying. Looking down at a floor now scattered with pens, pencils, and usbs, she quickly bent at her waist to duck under his desk and pick up the mess.
"Don't worry about it," he was saying a bit irritated, "Really," as she grabbed up tchotchkes, until she backed up further into him in order to get the few pens that rolled. "Well," as he sat back, "I do need those," he continued, annoyance replaced by lust. They both had become acutely aware that her ass sat squarely over his hardening cock. Savannah squirmed at the opportunity.
"Of course, Master," she mewed as her hand reached forward and her ass attempted to coax the bulge in his pants. "Just one more item," she teased as her cheeks writhed against the zipper positioned over his harding appendage. After ducking back up from under the desk with an extra wiggle for good measure, she rolled her spine up against his torso until she sat straight against his form. The desktop screen in front of them reflected eager smiles on both faces.
His lips turned toward her skin as he asked, "Why do you keep calling me that Savannah?"
"Master?" she clarified, but his dick jumped in reply, "because you seem to like it."
"Yes, unfortunately it seems I've made that rather obvious," as his breath warmed her neck, "but that doesn't answer why you like to call me that."
Her mind raced with a dozen answers, flipped through hundreds of fantasies, before choosing honesty again. "Because I trust you to make me cum," she stated timidly. Most would have reserved all blood for blushing, but Savannah found the surge traveled south. Fuck I hope I was right about him, she thought as she continued, "It's an anticipatory 'master' Master."
