Emma the Office Pet

The office, an open space with a luxurious, spacious air, was in tones of dark slate and navy-grey. Men, mostly engineers and architects involved in large-scale and multimillion dollar projects, moved about with an assured and authoritative air. The men were invariably good-looking and strong, exuding that easy charm that comes with being confident and self-assured.

Emma walked with an easy sway along the wide walkway that edged the open-plan area of desks, waving sweetly with a smile at some of the guys who caught her eye. Having worked there for two months now, she was getting to know people, and the guys had lost that early formality with their new employee. She wasn't the only female employee in the office, but there were very few, and she was the only woman in a senior role. Her looks didn't hurt - with her full dark hair and pillarbox red lips, she stood out amongst the more demure girls, who tended to be secretaries, ensconced in the few enclosed offices in the building.

Emma wasn't usually given over to exhibitionism, but lately had enjoyed the attention from her colleagues. She relished the intelligent conversation, and while the guys were admiring of her and would obviously flirt, she got a kick out of their habit of descending into masculine base competition for her attention. She'd taken to wearing her favoured jeans tighter and tighter and wasn't adverse to 'accidentally' leaving a button undone on her white shirts. Today, she was wearing something a little different - a new black rubber skirt, a friend had assured her was acceptable for work. As she walked she could feel it riding up her oiled legs; it was so tight she was forced to walk with an exaggerated, confident strut, and, unknown to her, as she walked her stocking tops were just, very slightly, visible with each step. Her round ass was delicious, encased in shiny black leather, the material tight at her waist, hugging her ass down to the tops of her legs, where it dipped in to display the curve in its most perfect form. Her shirt was crisp and white, concealing a pink bra, the cups consisting of the most delicate lace, through which her hard nipples could just be discerned through the shirt. A gold necklace with little pendant hung down between her breasts, tantalising, hinting at the what tongue might taste there.

Today she was feeling really good - she had just completed a very difficult and complex project, received high commendation, and the guys in the office seemed to be more engaged with her than usual. Grinning cheekily, she made her way to Senan, a guy she had on her team, and tapped him lightly on the head with a sheaf of papers. 'Well, my eager subordinate, how will we celebrate?' she joked, perching on the edge of his desk. He raised an eyebrow and flashed her a knowing smile, then looked unapologetic ally at her thighs, where the darker mesh of her stocking tops were now clearly visible below the six inches of skirt that barely covered her. Following his eyes, she laughed, and went to hop off the desk to her cover herself. He stopped her, laying a strong hand on her leg, the very tip of the middle finger of his right hand slipping beneath her skirt to the bare skin beneath. The touch was electric, and there followed a long pause in which the chance to plead innocent mistake slipped by.

'You're very sure of yourself, Emma, aren't you?' he smiled, and then edged his finger just a little higher. She held her breath, aware that she absolutely must pull away and hold him to account, but absolutely enthralled to the taboo of the situation - and unable to deny the hot, moist feeling soaking her gstring. She was aware too that to make a scene would exclude her from the jovial atmosphere of the office, and the bold streak in her wanted to see how brave Senan really was. Parting her legs slightly, she leaned back just a little, arching her back in a discreet, feline luxury, arrogantly maintaining eye contact with her assailant throughout. Nearby, two men noticed what was happening, and smiled and looked back to one another and their conversation. Displays of power were abundant in their life - this was just another game of equals.

Senan, now with the invitation extended and explicit, firmly moved his hand up Emma's thigh, rubbed her soft and slick quim, and withdrew his hand, his first and middle finger wet with transparent shiny gloss. Reaching for Emma's face, he smeared her lips with her own juice, and she opened her mouth willingly to suck him clean. The sensation of our mouth filled went straight to the centre of her, right to her clit, and she tightened and clenched, her pussy searching for relief and ready to obey. Taking the lead, Senan stood over Emma, and took her hair in a tight hold, wrapping her hair around his hand. This forced her to look up, and he pulled harder until she had no choice but to open her mouth and pant. Looking into her eyes, he wet his mouth with saliva, and brought his mouth close to hers. She could feel his hot breath on her as he slowly let fall into her open lips a ball of spit from his mouth. She dare not swallow or close her mouth, instinctively waiting for his order. 'That's a good girl', he said in a low voice. 'I think the little high powered bitch wants to be told what to do. Am I right?' Emma was quiet. She loved her job. She loved being smart, and she loved people knowing she was smart. She loved the authority she had. And she loved being challenged on all of this. She looked at Senan with wide eyes, her adorable whore's mouth slightly open. And she nodded her assent.