I'll start this story by telling you something I'm sure many of you can relate to: I always want what I can't have, and as a man I always want the women who would be totally wrong for me and turn my world upside down. Women seem to crave bad boys in much the same manner.
I won't spend much time describing myself because, let's face it, the beauty of the picture I'm painting, what you all want to "see," isn't me. Besides, nobody likes a self-gratifying rant where the writer strokes his own ego with exaggerated claims. I am an honest and straight-forward man and will describe myself in such a manner. I'm 6'5'' with an athletic body. I have dark brown hair and dark brown eyes and, dun dun dun dunnnn I'm better endowed than the average man. It comes with the territory when you're tall. I'll let you form your own mental image and not do that ego stroking I mentioned.
Now for the story!
I work in the financial industry and as such I'm fortunate enough to be surrounded by some beautiful women. I don't know what it is about the industry, but this job has had the highest percentage of hotties out of any occupation I've ever had. At my location alone there are three women who I'd gladly jump on given the opportunity. Two of those are near the absolutely gorgeous level.
One is a petite early twenties brunette with a small tight ass and the biggest tits you've ever seen on such a small frame. She's gonna have back problems later in life, but I will happily oggle those puppies dangling over the counter whenever she talks to me. Sometimes she covers them with a hand, other times not, but she always wears low-cut shirts to garner attention and boy does she get it! I made a pass at her once to tragic results. Despite her constant flirting she was too loyal to her fiancee to give me a go. I figure she played the game with me just for the attention. Tease.
The other is a twenty four year old, recently single, mother of one. That sentence doesn't sound too flattering, but believe me when I tell you she is a MILF. She had her child at nineteen and somehow, as God's gift to us all, maintained the sexiest, tightest little body you have ever seen. She's about 5'6'' with dirty blond hair a couple inches past her shoulders. She's got deep blue eyes and tans just enough to look that delicious tone. It's not an excessive tan like some girls. It's just the right amount. She's got perky little breasts, a solid B-cup I'd say, with light, fleshy colored areola that nearly blend in to the skin. I glanced those one day when I stood up from my desk just as she was bending over at her desk to file something away. She had a light, flowery blouse on that fell away from her bosom just enough to reveal the edge of the areola. Her best feature however, is her ass.
Normally I would say "butt." The word "butt" just doesn't have enough emphasis with it to do her justice. Her ass isn't huge, but it is extremely well formed and full. I had never been an ass man until I saw hers. You see it and quite literally have to stop yourself from running over and grabbing it. She knows it's power and flaunts it very well. Almost daily she'll wear form fitting "soft" pants as I think of them. Forgive me ladies for not knowing what they're called, but they look to be a very soft fabric, almost like sweats, but are even softer, thinner, and display every curve of that succulent ass. I should mention that our Dirty Blonde here is a thong enthusiast to say the least. I'm able to have frank discussions with her and I commented one day while we were outside how she must freeze in her "soft" pants and butt floss. She giggled, agreed she gets cold, but then said she has to wear thongs so her panty lines don't show. Whatever the reason, I'm happy.
I'm not a player, but I love to play the game. I email a couple of girls very regularly whilst at work and flirt. I'll make normal conversation and relate to their daily lives as well as offer advice when I feel its appropriate or wanted, but the fun is in the occasional naughty joke or innuendos. I'll sneak in adult humor when I know their in a mood that will allow me to get away with it. The innuendos are the best though. I enjoy finding ways to say harmless things that are on topic, but are rife with innuendo that the girls couldn't help but notice and think about. Women think about sex as much as men. You just have to steer their minds there sometimes.
These girls are very sexual creatures. Like I said, I'm in with them to a point where we can have pretty bold conversations and they divulge sexual exploits. For instance I know that Petite Brunette has made private porn with her fiancee and that Dirty Blonde has a rabbit dildo, has had her asshole licked before, and enjoyed being choked into a more intense climax the couple times she tried it. Its amazing what you can get women to say once you get them going. Its also fun to watch them blush.
Recently I've been more of a horndog than usual and had been flirting pretty heavily with her in emails. The other day I paid her a pretty straight-forward compliment about her many charms. She does have a kind personality and is responsible as a mother, but she has that naughty girl side that I'm reminded of every time she bends over and I see the butterfly tattoo on her lower back. Call it a tramp stamp if you must. On her its hot. The charm I alluded to was her ass. She took the compliment in stride and did something unexpected, she complimented me. I was unprepared for such a result. I figured she would be gracious, but play it off. Instead she said I was charming as well. I continued to email her and turned the conversation to an area where I could make her life and smile while I figured things out in my head. I kept her giggling and plotted my next move.
I think Petite Brunette noticed the extra attention I was putting toward Dirty Blonde because when she asked me a question later that day she bent over the counter, in an even more low cut than usual top, and exposed the vast majority of her luscious breasts to me. She didn't cover them with a hand and I struggled to make it look like I was maintaining eye contact. They hung there, the nipples pressed tightly against the fabric still stretched around them, in all their flowery glory. She has that very light, flowery skin and her breasts have those tiny sky blue veins just below the surface, taunting and telling you just how engorged and plump her breasts are.
I ended my conversation with her and left her to her work knowing she was a dead end. There was some great scenery, but nowhere to go. Opportunity then presented itself as Dirty Blonde needed a favor. I had to deal with a customer of hers and complete some mundane, tedious task because she was going to be gone when they came in. She then told me she would "owe me" and "do something" for me before finally saying I "should suggest something" with one of those wink smiley faces. I know she's used men to do her bidding before with no real reward, but I was going to end up doing the work anyway so I went with it and first told her I'd have to think about what I wanted as my reward. The assumed reward being a beverage or snack from across the street.
I went home that night and mulled over my response. When I went into work the following morning, prepared to do her bidding, I emailed her my request. It was simple. A blow pop. The exact wording and phrasing however, was genius, or so I thought until I found out I was her puppet all along. I told her that her question was. "...a hard one. There's a lot I want, but most of it is bad for me. I have to learn to control my appetite. How about a blow... pop."
The "hard one" is an easy innuendo to get a giggle from, but it doesn't seem deliberate. Referring to my appetite made her think about a conversation a week prior where we discussed libidos and she referred to mine as my "appetite." And then the blow pop with the pause written between was a slight joke that I knew she would giggle at. It was a treat with both enjoyed, and it implied my true desire. The sentence is easily dismissed as about food with a silly joke at the end to the average reader, but to her there was subtext if she chose to read it.
And she did.
When I turned in her project to her the next day she gave me a big, warm smile. After she read my email she studied me for a moment and then, with our eyes met, she gave me a different kind of smile. It was a mischievous smile with those busy, softened eyes with just a small glimmer of desire. Its a very hard look to describe, but to anyone who's every looked closely at a woman before or during sex, you know that look in her eyes.
I was floored by the look.
She continued to play along with the food ploy with her own subtext. She told me I could get whatever I want and she'd be good with it. I was without words, for once, and my heart beat wildly in my chest while my loins actually ached with desire. She was ripe for the picking, but I wasn't sure how to proceed. We were at an entirely different point in the game.
Later that day we had a conference call in the front office. What it was about I honestly don't remember. The shades had already been pulled because the sun shines through the abandoned front office something fierce in the afternoon. All I had to do was "accidentally" lock the door when we entered. She either didn't hear it or simply didn't say anything.
She settled in behind the desk, logged on to our call, and muted our side. My mind was racing and my hormones raging. I wanted her bad, but I hadn't quite figured out how to initiate the physical contact. She played with her phone and I wandered in thought, neither of us listening to the call, both of us stealing glances. When I came back from a particularly enjoyable thought I realized I had a raging hard on. I immediately tried to conceal it, worried that she really wasn't interested and that I'd just embarrassed myself, when I noticed she was looking at the bulge in my pants. I froze, afraid of what could go wrong, but proud of what I had and hoping she liked it. She was recently single if you'll remember, and she hadn't been looking for any guys after the douchebag she just got rid of, so I knew she hadn't gotten laid in a while. Her rabbit could only do so much.
In a bold and deliberate move I spread my legs a little and moved my hands away, exposing the full bulge to her. It was a gambit, but I was so worked up I had to take the risk. I could have still played it off as a simple embarrassing accident.
After more silence, and staring, she spoke. "We always figured you were big. I guess now I know."
