This week is making me insane.
It’s seven days since my first — and only — encounter with Sam. He’s not uttered a word to me, nor paid any attention to the comments I’ve made during the project meetings I sit in on.
The extra hours in the office have been taking their toll on me physically and mentally. My output has been better than ever, but trying to catch Sam’s eye has been taxing. The toxic combination of early mornings and late nights to improve the quality of my work has resulted in me only seeing the sun through my office window or feeling it on my skin briefly during my short lunch breaks.
I’ve got absolutely nothing to show for it. My self-doubt has grown, forcing me to get his attention in other ways. At lunch I snuck into the bathroom and slipped off my panties, hoping I might be able to chance a flash on the past Sam’s office.
The clock on my desk says it’s just after 6:45 p.m. I stretch and yawn, my blouse pulling tight across my chest and exposing, very briefly, that I neglected to put a bra on this morning.
I’m waiting for my last few colleagues to clear out. I am determined to make him notice me.
I can’t shake the feeling that Sam has been ignoring me on purpose, hoping that I’ll take drastic measures to catch his eye. I’ve been pushing down the urge to burst into his office and lock the door behind me, to take his cock in my mouth while the rest of my colleagues mill around in the corridor.
At 7:15 I sneak a look towards Sam’s office door. It’s shut, but I can see his shadow moving against his closed blinds. He hasn’t left yet. I take a deep breath and stand up from my desk, walking slowly across the room. Raising my hand, I knock softly on his door.
“Sam?”
I can hear the click of his keyboard stop, the sound of his chair rolling back from his desk. My heart is racing. I stretch my chest against my top, hoping the faint outline of my nipples is enough to catch his eye.
Sam opens the door and looks down at me. “Alex. Did you need something?”
My heart sinks. This is not the reception I was hoping for. I scan his face for some sign that he’s noticed the effort I’ve put into my appearance for him, but he’s stoic.
“Um, Sam. Hi. I was hoping to meet with you for a moment?” I manage to say, my voice trembling.
—- Sam's POV —-
“Yes, come in,” I say with a sigh. “Shut the door behind you.”
Alex shuts the door and coyly shuffles a few steps into my office.
“How can I help you?”
“Well… mmm. It's about last week.”
“What about it?”
“About what happened…”
“What happened? Be specific.”
“With the two of us, in here.”
I put my hand up, stopping her mid-thought. “Be specific, Alex,” I say.
“When you, Sir — Sam — had me do all those things to you. You pinned me up against your wall and down on your desk… you made me beg.” Her eyes started to water, but not with tears of sadness. Her demeanour betrayed something much deeper. Possibly shame.
Rising up from my chair, I walk to her, placing my hands firmly on her upper arms.
“Alex, listen now and listen clearly. I won't repeat myself. I did not make you do anything, you allowed those things to happen to you, you wanted those things to happen to you,” I start.
“In fact, I’d say you you crave for those things to happen again, wouldn’t you?”
She didn't need to answer. I could tell from the widening of her eyes and the way she caught her breath that my cock was exactly what she wanted.
“Now, you will not come to me about this again. If I want something from you I will be in touch.”
I release my grasp on Alex’s shoulders and scan my eyes across her body. The tightness of the skirts she wore and the shape of her legs in her stilettos had been hard to ignore all week.
“Since you're here, Alex,” I say, as her hand reaches towards my office door. “Give me those panties.”
Alex’s mouth twitches as she looks up at me.
“What panties, sir?” she asks, her face cracking into a small smile.
“What? Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I mean.”
She moves away from the door and walks towards me a bit too confidently, dropping her usual timid persona for the first time since I hired her last month.
“I can’t give them to you,” Alex says softly. “I’m not wearing any. Do you want to see?”
She pulls at the hem of her skirt, lifting it slightly off of her thighs. I grab her wrist tightly and pull her towards me, sliding a hand between her legs. She’s dripping wet, the tension of our interaction enough to turn her on.
Alex sighs at my touch and clears her throat.
“They’re in my bag, sir. Would you like me to get them for you?”
“No.” I look her over, my eyes lingering on the shape of her perky breasts under her nearly translucent blouse. “Take off your clothes.”
She doesn’t hesitate. Alex steps out of her skirt and pulls her blouse over her head, revealing the curves of her hips against her tiny waist. She reaches for her shoes, but I stop her.
“Keep those stilettos on. You’re going to stand there until I get back. Don’t move an inch.” She nods at my instructions and looks at the floor.