Office Control

Part of the strange pleasures of working in a shared open space is the ability to look around. I could spend many long minutes looking at different exposed parts of sexy feminine physique, a foot in high heeled boot to the right of my visual field, a knee in net stockings, someone’s hand, delicate long fingers, a mouth, a smile, hardly never seeing a whole person. I was fond of this vicarious pleasure of looking and appreciating without needing to communicate anything else.

Fantasies accompanied me from home to work and back and like everybody else, I also enjoyed a few harmless office flirts. I never thought much of it, never actually looked for anything more, being married actually helped to feel less frustrated and more boundaried.

It was just after a few weeks of changing my desk’s position that I noticed something different. One of the secretaries seemed to produce some sort of a sense of predictability with me. I was not sure at first but I felt that she slowly discovered what I liked – I had no idea how she did that – just that things changed. Stockings and shoes were suddenly too familiar– all to my liking and at angels I could appreciate.

Then came the movement, she would move her legs, cross them, move a hand from boot to thigh, all appeared to be for my own pleasure although I could never really be certain.

We did not have much work between us so I did not have any excuse to go over and say hi. However, I decided to send an anonymous mail, which could identify me by its content only if she were actually directing something at me. I remember writing something like ‘I know that you know and want to make sure I know too and that you know that I know’. If she knew – she would let me know! (I hoped).

Not much work was done during that day and the next few until I got a reply – ‘sure I know, what for tomorrow?’ I specified the mini and shoes I wanted, no stockings – it was summer. The next day she wore exactly what I wanted and as always just sat there showing no sign of wanting any other contact with me. I sent her another ‘what to wear’ request and without even returning a message she appeared with what I wanted the next morning.

During the next few weeks I gradually developed quite an obsession; I would make lists of what I knew she had and then find ways of putting them together in a way I would find sexy. I had her wear trousers, minis, with these shoes or the other, I started to control her underwear as well, at first trusting her to put on what I instructed her and then asking her, on a specific predefined moment in time, to bend, move, or just slide something off so I could see.

I felt that my mind was on fire. Not only did I control exactly how she came each morning to work I could also make her show me things. After years of being dependent on what they wanted me to see I became my own master! I knew what she would wear and I knew that I could watch and look at her as much as I wanted.

I now devised tables of different clothes, which corresponded to actions that she would take to help me see what she was wearing or just touch herself for me. For example, “the grey suit, white thongs, slowly move skirt up leg while sitting, turn at my direction, legs apart, time: 14:30, so I can see thongs”.

I could see how just before one of our times for action she would slightly get excited, try to control herself with an extra-rigid posture and then give in to the instruction, some times with a little shudder, show me and go back to her work. I loved it!

I made sure that we were never doing just the same thing and that there was always a sense of a developing escalation or boldness in what I wanted her to do. I wanted her to come without panties one day, and the first time I made her show me her cunt was truly amazing. She could hardly control herself in the last few minutes before time and then opened up to me in a way no woman had done before, all this without getting too close or touching.

I then told her to shave and show me how it looked like – I could even see how moist it was on that day. I told her to come without a bra or to come with one but at a certain point go, take it off, sit, move, show me and go back to put it on. I told her to buy new things, to touch herself in front of me, always making sure there was nothing that could attract too much attention.

Up until then I did not feel an urge to touch her – just to control. I did, however, feel an urge to touch myself and there were days when I was sitting with a constant hard-on, like some Pavlovian dog that knew exactly when to start salivating because he was the one who rang the bell.

My next stage was to involve some more sexual action. I told her that I needed to know when she masturbated. I was sure that she did that, I said, and I thought that it would be a good idea if I controlled it too. She agreed with passion. She said that she masturbated each day, after work, thinking about the list for the next day and how she would show me what she had or did not have underneath. I told her to continue this tradition but not to cum until I allow her. I required a detailed description each morning of how she masturbated, where and when, and a declaration that she did not cum.

Every few days I would allow her to cum, first she could do that at home and then at work - wearing her wet panties.

We never talked face to face and I had no desire to get to know her in this way. I did, however, after a while, developed fantasies about fucking her. I could not get it out of my mind and it disrupted my old regime of little excitements. I always needed to change, to make it more exciting, not to get bored. I understood that without noticing everything was suddenly pointing in just one more action – fucking her.

I wrote her an email saying that I have decided that it was time for me to fuck her. These were more or less my own words and it surprised me that I could just let it out like that without any difficulty. She replied (the first time I asked her something for a long time) very quickly: “What do you want me to do” was her single line.

I decided not to allow her to cum for about a month in which I tried many outrageous things, bordering on her being caught touching herself. At the end of the month I told her to give me a key to her apartment, the address, and wait there, standing up, her back to her bedroom door, naked, facing her bed.

I arrived at the exact time I said I would. I entered the living room, neatly organised, not very feminine, big TV, and then opened the door to the bedroom. She had her back to me, as requested and she was naked. I did not speak at all and just looked at her, feeling how her back seemed to be burning with anticipation, her skin yearning to be touched. I slowly removed my clothes, making sure that she could hear every buckle and shoelace being undone. She was slightly shivering at this point, anticipating.

I blindfolded her, which probably came as a surprise to her because she startled initially but then relaxed. I then turned her to face me, got her to her knees, waited, her mouth open with anticipation, not knowing, and then slowly stuck my hard cock into her open mouth telling her to suck it. She did, continuously, until I took it out leaving her mouth open. I told her to stand and then, all of a sudden, found myself gently lifting her up and putting her on the bed. We kissed; she opened up for me and I got inside her, Hard as a rock, then got her on top of me, removing the blindfold, looking at her when I told her to cum. We both had the orgasm of a lifetime!

From then onwards we worked on specific bulks of time, fucking every few months and then going back to the beginning before sliding the slippery slope again…

Next month we are going flip roles for the first time.