After graduating, I took a job as a secretary to a very successful businessman in a large office. I considered myself over-qualified for the job but at twenty years old I wanted a steady income without too much responsibility, and I had heard from a friend that the position was available. The novelty of professional life had not worn off yet, and I still enjoyed dressing the part for my job, which was mainly administrative tasks and welcoming my boss' clients into the office. I usually wore a silk blouse and tight pencil skirt with stiletto heels, which accentuated my tall and very slim figure, and more than once I noticed male visitors' eyes eagerly raking over my pretty face and slender frame.
One morning my boss called me into his office and dictated a few letters for me to type up. Mr Charles was in his mid-fifties, with grey hair and a tall, toned physique. He wore immaculate business suits and even a shy twenty year old noticed how handsome and attractive he was. As I turned to leave his office, Mr Charles called me back, and said how pleased he was with my performance so far. He said his clients were always very complimentary of his young secretary, and he wanted me to make sure I kept up the good work. Something about the way Mr Charles' eyes lingered on me as he complimented me gave me a shudder of excitement as I walked back to my desk.
That night, in bed with my boyfriend from college, my mind kept straying back to Mr Charles and his deep, commanding voice. As my boyfriend squeezed and fondled my small tits, I closed my eyes and imagined it was Mr Charles' strong, lined hands instead. I let my mind wander to what it would be like if it was my middle-aged boss who was kissing my neck and sucking my soft pink nipples, and I inadvertently gasped and arched my back with pleasure. My boyfriend was nice enough but far from spectacular in bed and he had never provoked this intensity of response in me before. Encouraged, he climbed on top of me and tried to stick his average-sized cock into me. I stopped him and grabbed a condom off the dresser, handed it to him and lay back down, looking away.
"Baby, you know I hate condoms. I want to feel your little pussy properly. I promise I'll pull out, baby. And I don't see why you can't go on the pill anyway."
I sighed and refused, like I always did, because I didn't see why I should interfere with my hormonal balance just for him to get off, and anyway, I preferred to have his semen neatly deposited inside a condom than on me or the bed sheets. After he put on the condom, I lay there facing away as he slid in and out of my pussy at a regular pace, and imagined what Mr Charles' cock would feel like squeezing into me. After a few minutes of boring intercourse, my boyfriend grunted and spasmed, squirting his meagre ejaculate into the condom, and then he rolled over and fell asleep. I lay awake for much longer, slipping my small hand downwards and rolling my clit between my fingers while picturing Mr Charles cradling me in his arms as he massaged me to orgasm.
In the morning I still felt frustrated at last night's unsatisfying sex, and extremely horny as a result. I pulled a tight black thong up my long legs and fitted it snugly against my anus. I let the gusset nestle between my smooth bald labia so it was basically hidden, and pulled sheer black stockings on, clipping them onto a lacy suspender belt. My boyfriend came out the shower and gawped at me, then tried to fondle my bare tits and grope my ass, but I pushed him away and told him I would be late for work. His small dick was semi-erect under his towel but it seemed pathetic to me and I turned away. Usually I wore a slightly padded bra under my work blouses to disguise my two silver nipple piercings, but in my frustrated mood I chose a very sheer black lace bra, through which the nipple jewellery clearly showed.
