My Relaxing Secretary Ch 01

"Hello, Boss," said the voice coming from the doorway, interrupting my thoughts as I sat at my desk in my large, corporate office.

I looked up and saw a hispanic woman, perhaps in her mid to late 40's, professionally dressed but with just a hint of sexiness. She walked forward and held out her hand to shake mine.

"I'm Michelle," she said with an unwavering, but pleasant voice was that deeper than I might have expected to come from her. "HR sent me to serve as your secretary for a while?"

I stood and immediately felt her warmth as I took her hand and smelled her perfume. Not overpowering, but feminine and sexy and I was surprised to find it caused a stirring in my groin.

"While Amanda's on maternity leave, I'm yours," she said, still holding my hand. "I heard I'd be working with a handsome young executive, and what I heard was true."

Likely I wasn't more than a few years younger than Michelle, but she carried a maturity likely born from being widowed at a young age and raising several children on her own. She looked me in the eye as she finally released her grip from my hand. I found myself distracted by her beautiful Emerald eyes highlighted against her cocoa skin and long dark eyelashes, edged with just a hint of color just above them that she had added in her morning preparation. She had a cute button nose with a rounded tip that my eyes followed down to her full, blossoming lips.

The color of her lips was dark red and lined with black liner. The reddish-brown lipstick perfectly accentuated the rest of her makeup.

She stepped back and grabbed the chair in front of my desk and placed it next to the side.

"I want to be fully available to you when you give me instructions so I prefer to sit here." She did not say this as a request or for my input, but matter-of-factly that this was how it would be. I would find this is how Michelle operated.

As she moved around the chair I was finally able to look away from her beautiful eyes and get my first look at the rest of her. She wore a brown, tight, button-up knit sweater that had the first two buttons open, revealing a sexy thin neck that dove down to her cleavage which was covered by a thin, black lace camisole. Her sweater jutted out rapidly to reveal the presence of significant, round breasts underneath.

I was struck by the way her clothes hugged her curves. Not overly tight, but clearly displaying her feminine curves. She was slightly plump, but in a very pleasing way. Her waist cinched tight, allowing her hips to flare out and then her skirt growing ever-tighter down to just below mid-thigh.

As she sat and crossed her legs, I could see the floral print on the side of her designer hose which my eyes followed all the way down to her petite ankles tucked comfortably in her strapped high-heeled ankle boots.

She was a vision of almost everything that aroused me. The opposite of my es-wife.

"Would you like to sit, sir?" she asked with a cleared throat. This brought me back to the discussion and I hoped she hadn't noticed me checking her out.

"Um, yes... Michelle," I stammered, "very nice to meet you."

I was an executive in a big company that had moved up quickly through the ranks. There was a lot of responsibility on me and many who wanted to see this young phenom fail. When the company was to replace Amanda, I told them I needed someone like her who could pull her weight.

"Michelle, do you understand the work we do here?"

"Yes, sir," she responded quickly, "We can get to work right away. I brought my pad for you to tell me what you need from me."

She looked me deeply in the eyes as she shared this statement. I hinted a bit of an unusual expression as she shared her desire to 'take care of my needs.'

We began to work through a list of tasks together.

"I'm sorry but we will have to work many late nights together for the next month or so as we get through this huge project."

"That will be fine, sir," she answered, "my sister can help with my kids."

This reminded me that she was a widow and expressed my condolences.

"Thank you, sir," she answered, again looking me straight in the eyes. "Work will be a good distraction and take my mind off not having a man to take care of me for now."

Again that look. I wondered if she was flirting or if it had just been so long since I'd had sex that everything was seeming to be inuendo to me?

"I'm very willing to be flexible for you," she finished.

Again, I stopped for a moment at the statement and looked for some hint of her meaning but saw nothing but her pleasant, but firm gaze.

"So, what have you heard about me and the job?" I asked.

"I heard you were married to your job and, thus divorced." this time she laughed and winked.

I blushed a bit and admitted it was true.

"I've heard you work too hard and take on too much. That you're not to be trifled with but I suspect that's because you're stressed, so I plan to help you with that."

"How do you plan to do that?" I asked.

"I'm very good at my job," she said, again with her firm stare. "I'll know how to help as the time comes."

We dove into our work and I did find her to be effective in her help, even on the first day. Finally after three hours I found myself looking for a file I couldn't find and buzzed Michelle impatiently, imploring her to find the file right away.

She soon had the file in my hand and I settled down to finish that part of my day. An hour or so later, she came in to visit me. Again, she sat in her seat without asking for permission to interrupt and my eyes fell on her legs as she crossed them in the seat beside my desk.

"So, you got snappy with me over that file a bit ago," she said matter-of-factly. As I began to apologize she held up her hand and I stopped talking immediately.

"Stress makes us all do things for which we have to apologize," she said, "but that's why I'm here. To help relieve the stress for you."

As she spoke, those emerald greens stared into my soul making me feel a little bit ashamed, like a little boy being lectured by a teacher. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small Dixie cup and what looked to be a bottle of cough medicine.

"I've brought something to help you so that we don't get crosswise again," she chimed.

"Cough medicine?" I asked.

She smiled as she poured a small bit of the liquid from the bottle into the Dixie cup.

"Not cough medicine," she said, again, without a hint of teasing in her voice or showing on her face, "that's just a cover. This is a very special kind of medicine."

She scooted the Dixie cup across my desk and then nodded toward it, as if encouraging me to drink.

"Go ahead, drink up," She sang, not as a request, but as a pleasant order.

I reached for the cup, thinking how strange this moment was. But I didn't feel willing to argue against her orders at this point.

I tilted the cup back slightly, hesitant to let the liquid hit my lips.

"That won't do." I was surprised when Michelle used a finger to tilt the cup all the way back, causing the harsh liquid to hit the back of my tongue quickly and scald the flesh all the way down my throat. I scrunched my eyes and frowned as the difficult taste made its way through my physiology warming.

"That's my guy," she said, taking the cup from my hand and leaning back again in her chair. "That will help."

"What is that?" I groaned as my glassied eyes again watched her legs cross and heard the switch of her stocking of one leg sliding against the other. Once again I was surprised to feel a stirring between my legs.

"It's something very good for you, a little 12-year-old, apple bourbon to take the edge off," she said, "it will help you relax and keep us working on good terms." I could already feel its effect of the harsh liquor. Dulling my senses a bit.

"Here's the other thing I have for you," she said, laying a neatly folded handkerchief on the desk.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Another thing that will really help you." As she placed the handkerchief on my desk I could already smell the perfume on it. It clearly had been dotted with her feminine scent.

"You need to go to the bathroom and masturbate now." she said, completely straight faced.

"What?" I asked incredulously.

"You heard me," she stated. "Nothing relieves stress better than a young man stroking his big manhood until he cums. This handkerchief will make sure you don't soil your clothes."

I sat, unable to move. I was feeling as I ought to be pushing back on what seemed to be some out of the ordinary orders from her.

"Off with you, now," she said in her pleasant tone, "Miss Michelle will be here when you get back."

I found myself taking "Miss" Michelle's handkerchief and into my hand. I absentmindedly brought it near my nose for a deeper whiff. Her scent permeated my nostrils and my eyes closed involuntarily.

"There you go. Now, put that in your pocket and head to the bathroom stall," she restated her orders. "Unload all you have into the handkerchief so you don't make a mess and bring it back to me."

Maybe it was the alcohol that was impacting my sensibilities or maybe the way she spoke compelled me. Heck, maybe masturbating just seemed like a good idea. Whatever it was, I found myself standing, stuffing the handkerchief into my pocket (causing my pinkie to touch my rock hard pole, making me jump a bit) and headed towards the door.

I felt like a guilty boy with a dirty secret as I headed towards the bathroom. I hoped no one would notice my hard on or smell the perfume and guess at my task. I was a highly placed company executive, yet here I was, following the orders of my secretary to go into the bathroom and jerk off - in order to change my behavior. I felt my head swimming from a combination of the high concentration of alcohol I had just put into my body and the surreal moment of entering the bathroom stall, pulling the handkerchief from my pocket and sliding my pants and underwear down to my ankles. I was so out of it, I didn't even think to sit down before my right hand went to work on my stiff cock.

My left hand held the handkerchief to my nose, deeply breathing in her scent. I began to stroke deliberately, but not too quickly as, for some reason, I assumed Michelle would not want me to cum too fast.

"What am I thinking?" I asked myself. Why did the thoughts of Michelle might want me to jerk off matter at all? But suddenly, I couldn't stop thinking of her. The brown sweater top and the black lace camisole underneath. I picked up the pace of my hand as I imagined the parts of that camisole hidden underneath.

"Ummmm," I moaned, now oblivious to worry of whether anyone might come in and wonder why I was standing in the stall in the executive bathroom with my clothes bunched up on the floor.

"What color bra is she wearing?" I wondered. Those breasts looked so large, I could only imagine what they would look like uncovered, nipples hard, being offered to me.

I pictured her her legs crossed at my desk, those floral designs sneaking up under her black knit skirt. If only I could follow them like a trail to some treasure underneath. My eyes wanting to see far up that trail to between her thighs.

The picture became overwhelming as I took in another deep smell of her handkerchief. As my hand worked methodically, getting me close to the edge as it moved the entire length of my erection, I found myself letting as I closed in on climax, not wanting the moment to end too soon. Not before I released all my stress for Michelle.

I dreamed of her grabbing the top of her skirt as she uncrossed her legs, sliding the skirt upwards and beckoning me down on my knees. I was so lost in the fantasy that I didn't realize I had actually slid to my knees on the cold tile floor of the bathroom stall as my hand worked it's magic on my steel pole, standing at attention for this fantasy woman.

Her legs opened before me, revealing the tops of her thigh high stockings and garter belts. Her cream colored panties holding a moistened destination for me. I imagined Miss Michelle lightly touching the back of my head as I did not resist her guidance to her warm cavern.

"Uhhhhh" I grunted, quickly placing the handkerchief on top of my cock as the thought of licking this woman's pussy took me over the edge. I wrapped my hand around the handkerchief, letting the cool silk arouse me even further until my load exploded forth, filling the handkerchief.

Instinctively, I collected all of the giz into the handkerchief, careful that none of it got on my clothes or on the bathroom floor. I stroked a few more times on my spasming cock to make sure every drop was expelled. Fully spent, I folded up the handkerchief and pulled up my pants before putting the handkerchief in my pocket.

I walked back to the office nervously. What had I done? I held my hand over the handkerchief to keep it from connecting with my clothes and perhaps staining my pants pocket. I was already blushing as I turned the corner to face Michelle.

She was there waiting and turned to look at me from her seat by the desk.

"You have something for Miss Michelle?" She held out her hand to receive the handkerchief.

I nodded and mumbled a "yes" as I pulled it from my pocket and handed it to her. I could see the large spot caused by my semen.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"Fine," was all I could answer as I sat in my seat, trying not to look down her legs and remember the fantasy that had just caused me to blow my load.

"I can see that it did go well," she said as she unfolded the handkerchief to see the large amount of yellow cum inside. "That's my guy. You should be all better now."

She folded up the handkerchief and put it into the paper dixie cup before sliding it all into her purse. She winked at me.

"You've very cute when you blush," she whispered. Her hand went down to the inside of her right ankle, to the top of her ankle boot which was resting on her left leg. Her red nails slid along her stockings making a slight zipping sound as she slowly dragged her nails up her calf to the inside of her thigh, pulling my eyes along with them.

"What did you fantasize about?"

"Hmmm," I mumbled as I stared at her nails, now making their way back down her leg.

"When you were masturbating," she stated, "stroking your hard cock, what girl in here were you thinking about?"

"Mmmm, I didn't think of any girls out there," I answered awkwardly. Finally looking up to see a wicked smile in her eyes for the first time.

"Mmm hmmm, of course," she said as she slowly uncrossed her legs, watching me the entire time. My slightly intoxicated eyes were immediately drawn again to those sexy stockings. She stood and patted the inside of my left thigh just below my crotch.

"Let me know if there's anything more I can do more to relieve your stress."

Miss Michelle let my office with only her feminine scent and my imagination remaining. As I watched her disappear out the door, I assumed this wouldn't be the last time "Miss" Michelle would help relieve my stress.