Hearing the door swing open in the small room you look up from the head of the table where you have your laptop set up with papers next to it ready for the meeting. Your crisp white blouse boasts a sharp black trim, and your sleek black skirt mirroring the reverse. The clean lines of your attire, outlining your full figure, telegraph authority, leaving no room for doubt about your position. Stilettos push your already above average height even taller and as the Manager of Operations the mostly male employees have to literally look up at you.
You stop dead, when you see me walking through the door and down along the glass wall towards you. Your mind, usually so ready with a witty comment or amused smirk suddenly wiped blank awash with shock. Your mindless humming, the nerdy girl pen spinning, the rhythmic tapping of your feet, all come to a full stop, yet your heart pounds with the beat of a thousand drums. You catch your breath, as you glance out to the open floor of employees staring at their monitors, and swallow hard. You try to rise, or speak out in protest, but find your body frozen in the intensity of my gaze as I come ever closer, never allowing your eyes to stray from mine. With just my look I bind you to your seat, unable to protest, you feel your stomach tighten, as you are expecting employees to start arriving for the meeting.
Who will you say I am? What would you tell them? Why am I here? How will your male subordinates see you if they found out the truth? Does Sir know what time it is?
All of these pressing yet irrelevant questions flash through your head as I approach ever closer. You start to panic.
Yes, of course, I know what time it is. I was the one that had told you to set this meeting, with the regular employees, lowest of the hierarchy in your building.
I stop in front of you, so close, knees almost touching your seat. My unyielding eyes do more than just demand your submission, it also calms and in the familiar presence of my physical being and scent, the room along with the fear melts away. I raise my hand to your face, using both of yours, you cup mine in your and bring it to your face. You lean into me taking comfort in the warmth of my hand, while I caress your face and brush my thumb over your lips painted in a deep shade of red today as instructed. As you take in my presence, and the fear subsides you feel a sudden flutter in your chest and a growing warmth between your legs.
Without opening your eyes, or remembering where you are, your soft lips part for my thumb, as you take it in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around my thumb and bring it all the way in your mouth and I can feel the back of your throat as you give a hard suck. Slowly, you bring your lips back to the very tip of my thumb and glance up at me to see me smiling down at you. You give it a kiss and flash me your wicked seductive grin before closing your eyes and taking it in your mouth again, sitting up straighter you puff out your chest and in one swift motion, you rescue the top two buttons of your blouse that was hanging on for dear life.
Time passes unknowingly, in the silent room that is just filled with the sound of your kissing and sucking on my thumb and the few soft moans that escape your lips. You're so lost in your task that you do not hear the group of men walking down the hallway for the meeting until they push open the door. Your freeze and your body tenses up, there is absolutely no way to explain away what you're doing and it is glaringly obvious what is going on. You try to pull away and offer some sort of flimsy excuse to the crowd of men at the other end of the table, the lowest group of employees, you usually give every little thought to.
I hold your head by the chin with my thumb firmly on your tongue, not allowing you to look at them, instead I tilt your head up so your eyes meet my gaze. I say nothing, as the seconds tick by silently, the room only filled with the shocking gasps as more men filed into the room. I remain silent and unmoving, your eyes locked on mine too afraid to move, the two of us as though statues, my dark eyes settles you once again. You relax a bit and once again you close your eyes. I slowly release your face and retrieve my thumb from your mouth, only to put the tip of two fingers on your lips.
Without hesitation, you kiss it and move my hand to push it into your mouth. I feel the back of your throat and a small tensing of muscles but you control yourself quickly and hold it there. You use your tongue like you've been trained, I feel the warmth of your blushed face, and the heat in your chest as you feel the eyes of your male employees on you. The feeling of being watched and your shame growing within you urges you to go even harder and soon there is a small sliver of drool flowing from the corners of your mouth. I pull my fingers out, your lipstick smears slightly on them with a trail of drool. I wipe it on your cheek and on the bridge of your nose before reinserting them.
This time I take control and push back into your throat, you gag but resist the urge to pull back. Instead you clasp my hands and pull me in even deeper. You silently count the thirty seconds you've been trained to hold as your body spasms around my fingers. After the count, you pull my fingers out for a breath, I'm no longer holding you but you've no desire to see who's in the room anymore, that concern has long since departed your mind. After a short rest, you pull my fingers into your mouth once more as deep as you can. You squeeze your eyes shut as the time ticks by and small black streaks start forming down your cheeks. I was specific about not having waterproof make up this morning and I'm glad to see your attention to detail.
