"Why did I do this to myself?" I thought, watching her set up in her new cubicle. It was August, the start of a new school year, and she was wearing a tank top and shorts that showed off her best assets; her long, athletic legs, and her tight round ass. I tried not to stare, even though she was facing away from me putting books on the shelves.
"Why did I choose a research assistant that I'm attracted to?" Isabella had just graduated from Georgia Tech with a PhD in mathematics. She had done well in the interviews for this position, but if I had been hiring purely based off of skill I probably should have chosen Yang, the Chinese man from Stanford.
"I really appreciate you getting me such prime cubicle real estate," Isabella said, turning around to face me. My eyes snapped up from her ass and I hoped in embarrassment that she didn't notice.
"It is still a cubicle," I laughed softly, smiling at the beautiful woman in front of me. That happened a lot when I was around her; I tended to smile more. I guess it was in the pursuit of happiness that I decided to hire her. That's what I tell myself, at least. "But you're right, having a spot by the window will be really nice. Spring in Boston is especially nice, when all the flowers on the trees are beginning to bloom."
"Sounds wonderful," she smiled back, turning back around to continue shelving books. God, she was gorgeous. Her parents were from Turkey, but she was born in the US. Her dark brown hair and pale green eyes provided a contrast that made her appearance even more striking, and at times I found myself almost paralyzed in her gaze.
I knew it was wrong, to be attracted to this woman, and even more wrong to have hired her for that same reason. I was married, to a man that I loved very much, but never in my life had I felt a burning lust like the one I felt for Isabella. It was too exciting, too new, to pass up.
"I'll let you get settled in then." I walked away, unsure of what else to say, and headed back to my office. Once there, I found myself unable to concentrate on my work. I kept thinking about her, about her legs, her long hair, and her smile. I tried to force these thoughts out of my head, but they were simply too overpowering. Being around her, even for a short period of time, was intoxicating. I looked down and noticed that I had been stroking my own thigh as I was daydreaming, and now I was extremely aroused.
The image of Isabella, penetrating every thought, clouded my head as I got up to lock my office door. Leaning with my back against the door, I grasped my breast with one hand, massaging myself through my shirt, and unbuttoned my slacks hastily with the other. I could feel my wetness through my underwear, and with her image in my mind, I was already so close to climaxing. I looked down and imagined Isabella's head between my legs, her tongue lapping rapidly. Moaning softly, I leaned my head back against the door and began to touch myself desperately. I imagined her soft, nude body, her long, toned legs, and her dark hair strewn violently across a white bed sheet as I made love to her passionately. It wasn't long before I brought myself to a shattering climax, my hand flying to my mouth to muffle my scream of pleasure.
I continued to touch myself throughout the orgasm until it died down, and I collapsed in a heap on the floor of my office, panting heavily. In the back of my mind I knew what I just did was wrong, but the intensity of it was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I had sat there for a few minutes, recovering, when I heard a knock on the door. Hastily, I buttoned up my slacks and attempted to straighten my hair.
"Isabella!" I said nervously, opening my door to reveal the beautiful young woman standing in front of me.
"Hello Dr. Greene," she said innocently, completely unaware of what I had just done moments earlier. I tried not to blush.
"All settled in?"
"Yes, and I was wondering if you could walk with me to our research meeting? I'm not sure where the room is." She looked embarrassed, as if she was somehow at fault. I had almost forgotten about the meeting.
"Of course, of course, let's head over there right now." I grabbed a notebook and led the way to the conference room. As we walked side by side I could almost feel the sexual energy between us. It could have been my imagination, but it was so strong I couldn't see how that would be the case. We talked of light things as we walked, the city, our upcoming research project, nice restaurants around campus. I held open the door for her and we walked inside; the rest of our research group, two middle-aged professors and their younger PhD student Neil.
"Everyone, this is my new research assistant Isabella. She'll be helping with our project on statistical modeling of wireless interference." I could see their eyes scanning her in disbelief as she waved hello. Never in the history of this school have we had such an attractive faculty member, I thought.
The other professors gave updates on their work and everyone was taking notes. I noticed Neil seemed a little distracted, however; he kept pretending to write things down while furtively looking at Isabella. But who could blame him?
In fact, as the semester went on, I noticed Neil and Isabella hanging around each other more and more. I wasn't willing to admit to myself that I was jealous, because I spent just as much time with her as he did, but a little part of me really despised Neil. It was torturous, trying to concentrate on my work knowing that she was so close by. Every time I would see her in the hallway or whenever she would stop by my office asking for help with something my mind would become clouded.
One afternoon I was typing up a research proposal when I heard a soft knock on my door. "Come in," I said absentmindedly.
It was Isabella. She was wearing tight gray slacks, black heels, and a simple white blouse that contrasted beautifully with her long dark hair. I looked up and she had my attention immediately; I tried not to scan her body with my eyes, but God, was she gorgeous. The dirty thoughts that flew through my brain just then made me feel ashamed and disgusted at myself. I looked at the picture of my husband on my desk and suddenly I also felt quite guilty.
"Sit down, Isabella. What can I do for you?"
She smiled shyly as she took a seat across from me at my desk. Her lips were smiling, but there was something in her eyes that made her seemed worried and afraid.
"Professor Greene, I...well, this is silly," she sighed and looked down in her lap, an unsure look on her face.
"No, Isabella, please...what is it?" I stared at her beautiful face as she looked down, studying it. She was so perfect. Absolutely flawless.