I think it was her tattoos that started the obsession for me. Of course, they were hidden under her conservative office outfits, for the most part, but those rare glimpses of the ink on her shoulder, her calves and -heaven help me- her cleavage, had a profound effect on me. I spent hours obsessing over the rare glimpses of artwork I'd seen on Samantha's body.
What kind of woman decorated herself in such a bold way, I wondered? Would such a self-assured woman have time for someone like me? I doubted it. I was plain. Chubby. I lacked sexual confidence. Samantha was alluring. She wasn't a stereotypical beauty but she had her choice of confident and attractive men. I never saw her at a company function alone. Men clamored to be around her. Samantha didn't have a model's build, but fashion models don't ooze sex appeal, either. Samantha was the hottest woman I knew. Samantha was out of my league, and she dated guys who were richer, more attractive and surely better lovers than I was. I had no chance with Samantha, but the sight of her was a powerful aphrodisiac. The busty brunette was an unreachable ideal and her unattainable status was part of the attraction.
I was transferred to her department out of the blue. Could I really work for a woman who made me shake with excited arousal and whose mere presence precluded my ability to form intelligible sentences? How would I concentrate? Even as my heart raced with the idea of seeing her every day, I worried that the constant stimulation would be too much. I was sure that I wouldn't be able to do my job.
She caught me staring several times during the first week. I would blush and turn away like a school boy. Samantha's wide hips and generous ass made me so aroused that I often worried about becoming visibly erect in the office. Her perfume chilled me. I would sneak away to the men's room to catch my breath and to touch myself. I spotted another tattoo. This one was on the small of her back, just above her panty line. I wondered what it was and I tried to think of some way to get a better look. I considered following her after work on the off-chance that she might leave her apartment in casual attire. I was a wreck.
By the time I had been in Samantha's department for a month, the existence of my crush was obvious. I had been caught looking at the V in her blouse countless times. I constantly strained to see the sexy curve of her breasts and it was difficult to be subtle. I found excuses to walk by her office and if I heard her heels as she walked down the hall I would rush to my office door to look at her backside. I was tongue-tied around Sam and my work was suffering. When she talked to me I would stare at her lips and would miss what was being said. I began to worry that she would fire me. I wondered what it would feel like to be rejected by her. Could I bear it?
Samantha called me to her office on Friday afternoon just before the office closed. Everyone was filing out and I realized we were alone for the first time. My throat was dry and I found myself shaking nervously. I was certain that I was about to be fired.
She looked at me sternly. "We need to sort this situation out, you and I."
I tried to play it cool and failed. "What do you mean, Miss Samantha?" My voice croaked like a teenager going through puberty.
She undid the two top buttons on her blouse and tugged the fabric apart. Her deep cleavage was mesmerizing and I could see the top of her breasts all the way down to the black lace brazier. The tattoo was a fiery sun. It was marvelous. "Is this what you want to see? Is this why you are completely useless in this office? Do you think it's okay to ogle women who want nothing to do with you? Why shouldn't I fire you, you lecherous piece of shit?"
I tried my best to speak, but I couldn't. I sat blushing and staring at her chest as Samantha eyed me menacingly. I tongue felt thick and my penis was hard. I comically tried to find the right words -any words to placate her.
Samantha chuckled, "Tomorrow afternoon at four o'clock, I want you at my apartment. Do you know where I live?"
I nodded meekly.
"Somehow, I thought you did. Plan to spend the night, and buy me some wine. Red. Expensive." She dismissed me with a wave of the hand.
-------
I knocked on her door at three fifty-five. She opened it and my voice caught in my throat. Sam was wearing a white T-shirt, green shorts and flip flops. Her hair was pulled tightly back in a ponytail and she wore no makeup. I was dumbfounded by how attractive she was in her casual attire. The light fabric of the T-shirt meant that I could really see her round curves for the first time. Samantha's nipples were visible through the shirt and I found myself starting unabashedly at her chest. She took the wine from my hand and examined the bottle. "This will do. Put it in the kitchen, and then run me a bath." She sat on the couch and picked up the remote control. She crossed her legs and began clicking. The tattoo on her calf was orange and black and I stared for a moment as I tried to commit it to memory.
I found the kitchen and put the wine on the table. Did she ask me to run her a bath? Did I hear that correctly? I started to doubt myself. I couldn't just go to her bathroom and start the water. Samantha would think I was crazy.
"Um, Miss Samantha. I put the wine..." I was blushing furiously.