Internal Desire

After not getting a single call-back despite months of applying to 20 ads a day, Nick had accepted a paid internship with an advertising firm. His very demanding boss, Tracy, was a no-nonsense, suffer-no-fools type of woman that promised nothing more than a steady paycheck and demanded nothing less than unflinching, unwavering allegiance. His trial-by-fire test run of a first night on the job took an unexpected turn as Nick was left standing naked in front of a group of older women he had met mere hours before. He had become the prize for an "art auction" where the auction winner, Ivy, used him as her easel and muse to hand-paint her masterpiece.

Since that first night, nearly a week had passed, and the job had proved blander than Nick hated to admit he had begun to hope. Pick up dry cleaning. Stuff envelopes. Answer emails with boilerplate templates. Four days and the only excitement Nick had seen was when Tracy would leave her office door ajar while she got changed to head out to her daily yoga class before lunch. Whether she knew it or not, Tracy put on one hell of a show for him.

When she turned off the promotional slideshow on the giant screen in her office, it acted as a mirror. It reflected her backside, allowing Nick to simultaneously see all angles Tracy had to offer. Yoga had treated her body very well. As she slid her beige skirt down her legs, her tight-yet somehow still bubble like-rear end sprung out and revealed its hungry tendencies as it swallowed up the tiny, sexy underwear Tracy seemed to favor. In what had become her routine, Tracy then reached both hands back and cupped under each cheek, playfully jiggled them against each other, then dug out the wedgie before she finally straightened the dental-floss strings again.

Next, she turned her attention to her top. Generally favoring form-fitting, silky blouses that snug her curves and either had no or at best loose sleeves, Nick marveled at how well the garments hid what was underneath. Tracy ran her hands from her hips to her neckline before she unfastened whatever buttons or ties held the top together. Before she let the garment slide off her shoulders, Tracy seemed to delight in one last soft caress of the thin material as it danced over her skin, guided by her fingertips. Her eyes closed, and Nick wondered where her mind went as she rolled her neck and drifted off into a daydream and hugged her washboard tummy and hips.

Her gym bag was kept on top of the tall cabinet behind her desk, and Nick had started to wonder how Tracy always managed to forget to retrieve it before stripping down to her skimpy bra and panties. She stood on her tip-toes and reached both hands high above her head, which gave Nick a full view of her toned calves, round, supple ass, and firm back as her shoulder blades jutted out in her precarious stance. He puzzled as to why she didn't just leave it in one of the empty cabinet drawers but certainly wasn't complaining about her decision as it afforded him this lovely view. Tracy truly had a peculiar way of doing things, as her next move was to remove her yoga attire from the bag and place it in her chair, then remove her bra before pulling her hair back in a high bun.

Once her hair was put up, she turned to the little desktop mirror she had and checked her reflection in it, apparently oblivious that directly behind her was a 55-inch television screen acting as a mirror for Nick's amusement. Her hands ran over her flat tummy and pinched the one ounce of fat left on her entire torso, and she frowned in frustration. Her hands raised to her chest, and she brushed her fingers over her dark pink, silver-dollar-sized areolas. Her index fingers and thumbs pinched and rolled the nipples until they pointed out like two pencil eraser tips. Her areolas had shrunk to little more than nickel-sized in their new state, and Tracy seemed pleased at their final form as she gave a last playful tug on each nipple.

She cupped her gravity-defying full C-cup breasts and lifted them ever-so-slightly. Her spine twisted, and she let them drop with an audible clap. She then leaned forward and once again lifted them, this time squeezing them together to form, to Nick's eyes, perfect cleavage, but she let out a heavy sigh and released them as she stood at full attention again. Her arms raised on each side until her elbows bent at 90 degrees with her hands pointed to the ceiling, then shook violently for several seconds. Nick's eyes were entranced as her soft breasts crashed against one another in waves before drifting apart for a moment and cascading in another glorious chest tsunami. On the other hand, Tracy's eyes were laser-focused on the tiny movement under each arm that brought another disapproving pout to her full lips.

With the near-medical-level inspection of her front done, Tracy then turned and did a slight lunge, jutting one leg in front and pushing one leg back, and looked over her shoulder into the mirror. With a flip of her cheek, she finally awarded herself with a slight grin as her bottom bounced several times before coming to rest again. Her hand gripped tightly and massaged the firm skin as a reward. Nick tried to hold back from giving the show a standing ovation, though under the desk, he felt that parts of him could not contain their approval.

Tracy finally reached to the chair to retrieve her sports bra. She pulled the tiny spandex material over her head, and managed a disappearing act as the dark maroon fabric stretched over her chest, snapped against her ribcage, and slammed the steel doors of the breast prison door shut. The cruel warden then marveled at her own work as Tracy adjusted to ensure everything was in place and gave a playful tug to the shoulder strap and let it whip against her protruding clavicle as a warning to the prisoners to stay in line.

Next, she held up the minuscule lime-green yoga pants and an exacerbated look came over her. She seemed to go back and forth in her mind as she worked through whatever problem had sprung up in her mind. The pants landed on the desk in a clump as Tracy hooked a finger in each side of the floss-like waistline of her black lacey thong and peeled them down her thighs. She then brought her feet out of the tiny loops of thread on the floor as she stepped each through the outstretched leg holes of the pants. With her head leaned over, not only was Nick treated to a fantastic glimpse of Tracy's bouncing cleavage but also a perfect reflection of her freshly waxed lips and behind in the screen behind her.

Tracy tugged the skin-tight leggings up until they came to rest on the bottom of her cheeks. She turned to face her backside directly at Nick. Her hips shimmied from side to side as she danced the material over her behind, which struggled against her. When she had finally won the battle, she twirled and thrust her hips forward toward the mirror on her desk. Her hips pivoted. She tugged the hemline of her pants higher until a clear outline of her camel toe came into focus. A nonchalant shrug of her shoulders and slight head tilt showed she either couldn't be bothered or simply didn't mind that in the right position, she may put on quite the show for her yoga class.

With an approving smile, she snatched the rolled-up matt off the back of the chair and strolled toward the door, which was Nick's cue to act as though he hadn't just stolen glances at her tight, nude body. The dance continued.

"Nickie, I'm off to yoga and lunch. Have you had a chance to send out those emails for the Filson account yet? We need to get those out and then really start to drill into the data on Belcher when I get back," she barked as she put in her earbuds and waltzed by without waiting for a response.

"Sure thing. I'll get right on that, and by the way, I think your tits are amazing, and I'd love to cum on them sometime," he retorted to the closed door.

Try as he might, Nick could not focus on work as he replayed the scene that had just unfolded in his mind again and again over the next half hour. He had only managed to send a single email when he realized he had drifted off into yet another replaying. In this version, Nick got up and stormed into Tracy's office as she changed into her skimpy workout clothes. He bent down and retrieved her sparse undies, balled them up, and forced them into Tracy's face as she obediently bent at the hip, leaned forward, and took the ball gag of her soiled undergarments in her mouth. With a whimper, she lowered her chest to rest on her desk and pressed her hips back against Nick's tented trousers as he stood regally behind her with his hands placed on his hips.

Her stifled moans grew louder and louder as she ground her hips back against his crotch. He could feel his aching manhood try to rip through his pants and was mad with desire as she reached both arms back and pulled herself tighter against him. Nick didn't move a muscle and simply allowed her to buck her hips in wild abandon and stroke her sex pot against his crotch until she had worked herself into a frenzy. Moans grew to shrieks as Tracy could stand it no longer and reached a free hand between the desk and her thighs so she could spread her folds and find release. No sooner had her middle finger found its target when Nick finally sprang to action and grabbed Tracy's wrists and pinned them in the small of her back.

As Nick wrenched Tracy's arms behind her, she was thrust further forward until her mouth smushed against the desk, and a spot of drool leaked around her panties and rolled down her chin. Nick held her hands together with one hand and brought the other down on her right butt cheek with a sharp smack. Tracy spasmed and let out a muffled whimper that was as much beg for forgiveness as it was for another. His strong hand then drifted up to her hip and hooked around her thigh. With a single tug, she collapsed back against him, and he felt her lips open and beg for him to plow into her. Another firm tug at her hip and Nick's rigid pole smacked against her aching cavern, and he could smell the sweet scent of her nectar in the air.

Nick reached a hand between them and lowered the zipper of his pants. When he pulled his finger back, he felt a wetness on them and looked down to investigate. The front of his pants was soaked in Tracy's sweet sex, but before he could even react, she had sprung into action.

Wild desire showed in her eyes as Tracy spit out the ball of panties, dropped to her knees, and stuffed her nose against Nick's crotch. She inhaled deeply, then let out an impassioned grunt as she licked up her own juices and pushed Nick back until he fell into the chair behind him. His ass hadn't even hit the leather of the office chair before Tracy had torn his pants down his thighs until they bunched at his knees. Her mouth opened in lust-fueled hunger, and just as she was about to impale herself on his engorged cock a strange noise erupted from her throat.

It wasn't until the second ring that Nick realized that the strange noise was the office phone ringing. He snapped out of his daydream and panicked to pick it up as Tracy had scolded him repeatedly that no office phone should ever get to the third ring.

Before he could get out his standard greeting, Tracy interrupted, "Nickie, it's me. I just got out of yoga and am meeting some of the girls for lunch. I'll be about an hour. I need you to have the files ready for the Belcher meeting when I get back so we can pour over the data. Thanks, see you soon."

The line was dead before he could respond. He placed the phone back in its cradle and exhaled. Images of his daydream still juxtaposed against the quick dismissal he had just been given, and Nick took a beat to reorient himself in reality. It wasn't until he stood to get the documents she had barked for him to get ready that Nick realized the effect his daydream had had on him, as he nearly knocked the phone back out of its cradle, but not with either of his hands.

Realizing that it would only take a couple of minutes to get the documents prepared and that, in his current mindset, Nick would be absolutely useless in pouring over any said data, Nick decided to...handle his current situation. He quickly ran to the front door and locked it, then decided to use Tracy's office for a little more privacy since people would sometimes peer in through the large windows on their walks by.

As he shut the door behind him, Nick's eyes caught a glimpse of the tiny tangled string on the ground near Tracy's desk, and it all flooded back to him. He crossed to the desk and bent over to pick up the tiny panties before he spun and landed in the soft leather seat of Tracy's office chair. He admitted to himself, he felt a mix of power and mischief as he sat behind the large oak desk and thrilled at the thought of what Tracy would do if she caught him there. Any trepidations he had washed away as he brought his hand to his nose and huffed the intoxicating perfume of Tracy's underwear.

Nick gave himself entirely to the fantasy, leaned back in the chair, and reached a hand down to the front of his pants. He rubbed his crotch and confirmed what he already knew: his cock was rock hard with anticipation of what was to come. He decided since Tracy wouldn't return for at least an hour, to indulge himself and take his time. He slowly lifted the bottom of his polo shirt and let it sit, bunched just above his belly button. Though he ran regularly and was quite fit, Nick was not an avid gym-goer and, as such, had more of a lean, toned body than a cut-sculpted body.

He couldn't help but scoff as he remembered not long ago he was laughing at Tracy's self nit-picking of her own body as he self shamed himself for not having 8-pack abs and bulging biceps. He shook the negative self-thoughts from his mind and ran a hand through his slightly hairy tummy down towards his waistline. Next, he lifted his hips from the chair as his hands quickly unfastened the button on his pants and shoved them down to his knees. His cock recoiled from being dragged down with the pants and slapped back against Nick's tummy with a loud thud.

Frustrated that he couldn't have full range of motion, Nick kicked off his shoes, then wrestled his pants the rest of the way down his legs in an awkward leg shimmy until they finally fell in a heap below his feet. One hand brought the panties back to his nose, and he breathed in as deep as a hyperventilating patient when given an oxygen mask, while the other stroked the entire length of his shaft.

Nick could already feel himself on the brink of orgasm and decided he wanted things to last a bit longer. He released his hold on his cock, and instead ran his hand over his thighs and up through the hair of his tummy to his chest. He reasoned that if Tracy came in and found him in this state, he'd already be fired, so he might as well have fun with it, and tore his polo over his head and threw it on the floor with his shoes and pants. He couldn't believe the rush he got as he reflected on the fact that he now sat in his boss's chair, behind her desk, fully nude, with her panties stuffed half up his nose. If Nick so much as breathed on the tip of his cock, he knew it would explode with a fountain of cum, and he wanted things to last a bit longer, so he was forced to wait for the moment to subside before he could continue the fantasy.

He decided to get the work part out of the way, so hopefully, the distraction would calm things down a bit and allow him to have his fun. He stood and dropped the panties on the desk, then walked over and opened the cabinet where he had filed the documents he needed for the Belcher case Tracy had been asking about. Doing his best to ignore his cock as it bounced with every step he took, Nick awkwardly set the file down on the side table. He pivoted his hips back so his boner stopped threatening to drip the precum that had formed at the tip of his mushroom head onto the documents as he thumbed through them to ensure everything was there. Nick couldn't imagine holding it together as he attempted to explain the strange stain on the forms.

After several minutes and double-checks of the forms, Nick had successfully distracted himself and could now refocus his attention on the task at hand. He plopped back into the office chair and grabbed Tracy's panties off the desk. This time, instead of bringing them to his nose though, he wrapped them around the base of his cock and slowly stroked them up the full length of his shaft. When his hand got to the tip, he twisted them around the head and swirled the lacey thong as he reached his other hand down and continued to pump the shaft.

Several more pumps of his left hand, and Nick wanted to once again breathe in the sweet scent of his boss's juices and brought them back up to his face. When his hand lifted them from their tight hold, Nick was slightly surprised when a string of precum fell back on his hand, and he felt a large wet spot on the material as it made contact with his nose. The cocktail mix of his sex juices with hers sent an unexpected surge straight to Nick's manhood, and his hand instinctively pistoned with increased fervor.

His mind drifted back with his head as it rolled against the leather chair, and the image of Tracy peeling the panties down her thighs flooded back. Nick's hips started to thrust to meet his hand as he grunted into the balled-up panties in his fist. He couldn't help but think back to his sex dream in which Tracy took those same balled-up panties into her mouth as a ball gag and was again driven to a new level of arousal.

Suddenly, panic rose in Nick's mind, while simultaneously, another feeling built much lower, in his loins. His eyes darted to the desk, then around the room for something, anything to help him out of his predicament. He was forced to admit defeat as his breath drew in sharply, and his legs started to spasm. Just as his shoulders pressed back into the chair, his feet planted firmly against the floor, and his hips drove forward and fucked the tight hole of Nick's hand; a sad excuse for the warm, wet home it so desperately sought in the vision in Nick's mind between Tracy's legs.

It finally dawned on Nick just in time. He frantically dropped his hand and caught the first rope of cum mid-air as the dark bundle in his hand crashed down and plugged up the exploding geyser in his lap. Both hands massaged, kneaded, and rubbed as white cream bubbled through the little holes in the lacey thong and slowly leaked over Nick's hand and threatened to dribble down to his crotch. None of that so much as crossed Nick's mind as all of his focus was on quake after quake of ecstasy that rocked his entire being. All motor function control had ceased as Nick barely hung onto consciousness.

Finally, after what had felt like a whole minute of teetering on the edge of blacking out, Nick was able to catch his breath again and looked down to what had become a pool on his belly and running down his thighs. Both hands were, of course, covered in the thick, gooey mess. Nick briefly laid back in the chair and drifted off into a post-orgasm slumber, then suddenly bolted upright as he realized he needed to somehow clean up this mess before Tracy returned from lunch.

As his body shifted in the chair, the full weight of his situation became clear as Nick felt the squish of liquid under his thighs against the chair. Panic again rose in his chest, and Nick tried to calm down and find some tissues or paper towels he could use to clean himself up. Obviously, the completely soaked, flimsy undies would be no use, he scoffed to himself, and then his heart dropped as he puzzled how he was going to explain the mysterious disappearance of Tracy's panties.

Fortunately, as one problem arose, however, another was resolved. Nick spotted his own boxers peeking out of the heaped pile of his clothes in the corner. He separated the much larger undergarments from his pants, careful not to get a drop of semen on them. As he awkwardly shuffled back to the chair, Nick could feel his cum oozing down his legs and had to be careful not to let it drip to the carpet. He figured it would be best to start the clean-up effort with Tracy's chair and was glad to see only a few drops on the actual chair.