Lustful Temptation

Lust. Pure, unadulterated lust.

It started fairly simply. I noticed her at a business conference walking down the hall with long, curly black hair, high heels, a silver top and a tight black leather skirt. She was walking toward me, with an air of confidence that reminded me of a Persian Princess.

I'm a lucky man to be walking by her,

I thought.

As she got closer I noticed the perfect roundness of her face, her sculpted eyebrows, and – lord – perfect, kissable lips. It was then that time seemed to slow as my senses went on overdrive.

Okay

,

not just nice looking – hot!

Of course, she wasn't wearing just high heels but black Christian Louboutins, my favorite. I sometimes found women who wore them attractive just because of the shoes. The red bottom of her right shoe winked at me.

She oozes sex

As I move closer I notice the honey-brown color of her eyes. She stopped to talk to someone and turned slightly toward them, displaying her perfectly tight ass and a sensual curve to her hips. I noticed the red of the Louboutins again as I felt a stirring in my loins. I slowed a bit,

I'm going to take a moment to enjoy this beauty. Wow, does she work for us?

I could feel my pulse quicken and I couldn't take my eyes off her. My mind wandered, lustfully imagining myself behind her, one hand holding onto that curve of her hips, my hand caressing her beautiful, silky hair as I began to slide the head cock inside her. I could feel myself slide between her soft, dripping wet labia as she moaned from the toilet-paper-tube sized thickness of my cock stretching her. I could imagine the tautness of her ass as my pelvis slammed against it, my 9 inch cock bottoming out inside her, pressing against her cervix. I could feel the pull of her womanhood, trying suck my cock back inside her as I slid out and forcefully thrust forward again. I thought,

get control of yourself Steve!

It was as I began to pass her that she turned and looked at me. Her golden brown eyes twinkled and her smile suddenly appeared. Her eyes lingered with my own as her smile broadened. My cock was almost fully hard now, having gone from flaccid to fully engorged in the few seconds since I first noticed her. I continued to walk as my heart raced and I felt a bit flushed.

I hope I don't see anyone between here and the elevator before I can go calm down!

After I took a few more steps I looked back, hoping to catch a glimpse of her beautiful curves again. I noticed her turn her head away from me.

Was she looking at me too? Steve, you're kidding yourself!

My body was still alert, on fire, and ready for her. It must have been pure, lustful chemistry. Pheromones transacted between us, causing a fire in my body unlike any I had experienced before.

Then I heard, "Steve!".

Dammit,

I thought. Can I ignore it?

Again, "Steve!". I couldn't ignore the call.

I turned and looked at who was calling my name. It was one of my employees, Elizabeth.

"I want to introduce you to my new colleague!" she said as she led me back towards the goddess. As we turned the corner I looked anxiously for the vision of beauty, hoping Elizabeth had just given me a reason to walk by that gorgeous woman again. To my disdain, she was no longer there talking to whoever was lucky enough to talk to her.

Was she even real, or just a vision?

A moment later, I heard Elizabeth say, "There she is! Sarah!"

It was then that my life changed, perhaps for the better, and perhaps for the worst. The Persian goddess's name was Sarah.

I don't remember the next few moments well. I'm not sure if it was because most of the blood that should be in my brain was pooled in my cock, or whether I was just drunk from being in the presence of this woman. I remember flakes of gold twinkling in a pool of light brown as I looked into her eyes and shook an impossibly soft and warm hand. I remember white teeth, as bright as a full moon shining between soft, full lips. I remember not trying to ogle over the most amazing body I had ever been near. I remember trying to keep my pulse down as I tripped over my words, answering questions she didn't ask. I remember scent. It wasn't something I could put my finger on, but it was just the awareness that this woman smells incredibly sexy. I remember thinking to myself that if I didn't have the opportunity to taste this woman's inner nectar, I would be filled with regret on my death bed. I remember wondering, is she sweet, tart, salty, or a mixture of them? I remember "nice to meet you...."

I remember walking away, my mind in a haze and Elizabeth asking, "Steve, are you ok?"

"Yeah, just tired."

Soon after that day, Elizabeth figured out I had a "crush" on Sarah. She enjoyed taunting me with this knowledge, mentioning Sarah and kidding me about it. Little did she know how strong that "crush" was. That I'd been fantasizing about Sarah almost daily as I imagined caressing, kissing, and licking every inch of her flawless body. She had no idea that Sarah had been the topic of dozens, maybe even hundreds of different fantasies played out in my mind.

That was a little over two years ago and it brings us to today as I sit in the car, ready to go into a restaurant where the Persian Goddess and her colleagues are having dinner and waiting for Elizabeth and me to show up. I've talked to Sarah several times. We've smiled at each other often as we pass in hallways, but Dinner? An entire Dinner near her?

I have to watch her put food between those amazing, soft, full lips? How many times have imagined those lips sliding....

I have to look into her eyes as we talk? How many times I've imagined those eyes looking up at me, or back at me, or down at me as we......

Her neck, dammit. My weakness. How can I talk to her and not imagine kissing and licking it, caressing her hair back behind her ear as I whisper what I'm going to do to her later in the night...

And that hair – I certainly can't imagine it not matted across her chest or back, covered in sweat as we pant together...

And on top of this, I have to keep my mind clear of the thought of sliding my hand up her leg, higher and higher, dipping a finger between her soft folds and bringing that finger back to my mouth so I can then taste her wetness on my finger – keep my mind clear of that while I carry on a conversation with her?

Can my body even handle an hour of the pheromones she gives off?

Damn you, Elizabeth!