Candy had a bubbly personality and an ass to match. I liked her as soon as I met her and we would cheerfully spar back and forth flirtatiously, though within the boundaries of workplace protocol. Then there was the time when I'd passed her SUV in the parking lot to find her standing above the rocker panel with her ass hanging out the door. She was wearing linen pants that, while more loose fitting than leggings, still allowed one to appreciate the natural ass cheek motions associated with... motions. Suffice it to say that, in certain positions, and for that matter, while walking, an observer could get a wonderful unfiltered sense of the buttocks just on the other side of the thin fabric.
"I'd say something, but it would probably be inappropriate," I said as I used the door to smack her ass. I desperately wanted to use my hand, but without knowing how she would respond, it wasn't worth losing my job over.
"You can say whatever you want," she answered. "I'm a big girl."
"I desperately wanted to smack your ass when I saw it sticking out the door." I didn't remark on the fact that she was not a big girl but was fairly short. If she was five-five, I would have been surprised.
"Just to be a brat, or because you like my ass?" she inquired.
"Both, honestly," I replied.
"I get the being a brat, but I'm skeptical about your claim that you like it."
"Really?" I asked, surprised. Candy came across as one who exuded confidence. I would have thought she had a rather high opinion of her appearance.
"My ass is average, at best," she said. "Are you trying to flatter me to get into my pants?"
"No. I find your ass quite attractive," I answered. Then quickly added, "Though I would do anything to get into your pants."
"Anything?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, and giving me an impish grin.
"Pretty much," I said. "As long as it doesn't get me fired, thrown in jail, or hurt too much."
"I'll take it under advisement," she said as we walked into work.
"I've been thinking," she said at lunch break, "would you be willing to be my slave?"
I looked at her across the table. This was the moment of truth. The moment I'd longed for. The moment I was afraid I would be too afraid to seize.
"I absolutely will be your slave," I said.
"Okay," she said, trying to conceal her own excitement. "After work, you're coming home with me."
"Fine," I said, grinning widely. I couldn't have concealed my elation if I'd tried. Candy wasn't the finest specimen of femininity, but she had a quality that I couldn't quite define--maybe it just came down to attitude--that completely inflamed my passions. Candy wasn't beautiful, or even pretty, but she was still sexy as hell. And I couldn't wait to take whatever she was dishing out if it meant tapping that ass.
Candy lived in an apartment complex about three miles from work. It wasn't fancy, but considering what they paid us, it would do. I followed her up to her second-floor apartment, ogling her ass all the way up the stairs, and waited for her to unlock her door.
"Beer?" she asked once we were inside.
"Yes, mistress," I answered.
"Nice!" she giggled. "Keep that up and I might let you lick my ass."
"Your wish is my command, mistress," I answered. I didn't bother explaining that I'd been longing to do just that almost from the first moment I'd laid eyes on her wonderful ass.
"My wish," she said, handing me a beer, "is that you lick my ass. If you do a good job, I might let you fuck me."