When James returned, he seemed preoccupied. A number of the others suggested he was still dealing with the loss of a family member. I knew different. He was simply paranoid that someone (mainly me) has discovered his little secret. He did seem especially funny towards me by looking at me after he made a joke, etc. I tried my best to act normally but knowing what I did about how he fantasized about me made it hard.

There he was trying his best not to look directly at me and I was trying hard to catch him checking me out. Not sure why, maybe I wanted to let him know it was okay, or maybe I just needed to know he still wanted me.

A week passed and things began to return to normal. I came to the conclusion that he was waiting for the inevitable, and the more time that passed, the less likely it was that anything was going to happen.

I, on the other hand, was still making my way through his collection of fantasies and was finding myself more and more attracted to him, even lusting for him to act out some of his fantasies with me.

His continued avoidance of me had me trying harder and harder to get his attention. Sure, I guess what I was doing could have been called teasing but I was looking for some sort of reaction, anything, to prove as a confirmation that he truly felt the way his stories suggested he did. I wanted to know if he was just full of talk or would he back it up with action, hours and hours of action.

Unfortunately, my various low-cut blouses and even skirt outfits didn’t seem to get much of a reaction from him. As yet another week passed, I had become almost obsessed with seducing him.

I was wearing my fuck-me panties to work on a regular basis now, (which made me even more crazy and hot). I found myself in the bathroom at least twice each day, bringing myself to climax while picturing one of the various scenarios in which his dick slid in and out of my yearning pussy.

I became very aware of how immersed in the situation I had become when I was nearly caught at my desk with my hand up my skirt, recalling how James fucked me in the ass while I ate out the summer intern.

I resolved to stop my sexual obsession for the good of my career. But like any other addiction, they are hard to break… I found myself back in the bathroom stall with my hand in my pussy before the day had ended. I was addicted.

I convinced myself the only cure was the real thing. I planned out an elaborate scheme to ensure I would get the opportunity to have him, finally. It wasn’t overly complicated but it was bold and straight forward. I didn’t have the patience for anything else.

A week later, I headed home just after lunch to shower and dress for the evening’s activities.

Black stockings and garter belt framed by a very sexy lace g-string. A matching bra pushed my breasts up and out of the white blouse with a few too many buttons undone. My pin-striped jacket and skirt added a seductive layer to what lay underneath, as did my three-inch black heels that I had bought the night before. I was dressed as close as I possibly could to what he had described in one of my most favorite stories. If he didn’t take me like this, he wasn’t the true author of those fantasies.

I arrived back at the office at 4:45. Being a Friday, most of the staff was heading out the door. I did get a few looks form some of the co-workers, (returning to work more made up and well dressed than earlier in the day), but I paid little attention and made my way to my desk.

Picking up the files I had set aside, I made my way to his office.

‘Ready to go?” I asked.

I watched his eyes dart up and down as his brain tried to recall what I had been wearing that morning. As soon as he noticed what he was doing, his eyes quickly lowered back to his work. “Yep, just one minute”.

His reaction was encouraging for me. I could feel I was going to have him.

We set up in the boardroom, tucked away towards the back of the office, so we wouldn’t be disturbed.

“Thanks again for meeting me to discuss this project. You’re sure your wife won't mind you being late on a Friday night?”

“No, she is with the kids at her parent's place tonight so…”

“Great, lets get started.”

I began reviewing the project that I had little interest in. I was quick to get up and begin moving around, using the white board, sitting on the table, bending over to pick up markers that had ‘accidentally’ fallen to the floor.

He would have to of been dead to not notice my skirt riding up my legs. At one point I bent over directly in front of him, feeling the cool air on the back of my thighs. I waited, hoping he would reach out and touch me, making this silly game I was playing unnecessary, but he behaved himself, as I expected he would. Nevertheless, I was enjoying the journey, knowing I would eventually win out.

At 7 o'clock, I suggested we order some dinner and by 7:30 we were taking a break. Sitting on the same side of the board table, I turned my chair to face him and crossed my legs, making sure my skirt had ridden high enough to expose the top of my stocking. I watched him struggle as he tried to focus on my face. He wanted so desperately to look down.

I could tell it was time to begin my final approach. I directed the conversation as I had planned. Discussing the outfit of some rather fashion-dense older women that worked down the hall.

As planned, I was able to bring the conversation back to my outfit and commented on my shoes. “I think they look great but they kill my feet.”

I clearly offered him the opportunity to look at my legs. Looking down myself, I repositioned my legs to model my shoes and noticed the skin of my upper thigh peeking out from under my skirt, the full top of my stocking and garter clasp was now in full view.

I could feel my crotch tingle as I slid my heel off and began rubbing my foot.

“Right in here – it aches, you're so lucky you don’t have to wear heels,” I continued.

My attention was still focusing on my foot, massaging it, and my legs began to part as I adjusted in my chair. I suspected he could now see clearly up my skirt to my panties.

My head lowered so he couldn’t see my eyes, I strained to look towards his crotch, the bugle was obvious as his torso remained motionless.

Not wanting to startle him, I slowly sat back up and stretched my back.

“God, I would pay to get a good foot massage right now.” I finally looked directly at his face. His eyes glazed, his expression was priceless.

I waited, half expecting him to pounce on me and half expecting he would run for the door. Instead, he just sat there. When a polite smile crossed his face, it became clear to me—I would have to initiate things.

“James, I hate to ask. It is a bit inappropriate, and feel free to say no but, would you be willing to…?” I moved my stocking foot towards him.

“Ummm. I’m really not sure I should.”

It was obvious he wanted to. It was as if he was testing me to see what I was going to say.

I didn’t give him time to continue. "It would really mean a lot if you would just help me out. Just this one time."

He reluctantly started shaking his head so I continued.

“And I know you’re probably thinking it’s like, you know, maybe a bit inappropriate, but I promise this will stay between you and me. No one else will ever know.”

I extended my stocking leg out and placed my right foot on top of his thigh. I watched as he stared at it, his reaction suggesting he could not believe what was happening.

“Just a bit. I sooo need a little foot massage right now.” I smiled at him, my smile screaming that I wanted him to touch me.

This time there was no response. He sat quietly staring at my foot, my toes wiggling seductively on his leg.

He was close. I could tell.

“Just a little bit—just for a minute." I gave him the final nudge he needed.

His hands slowly extended and his fingers wrapped around my warm foot. I let out a slight moan, completely unintentionally, which seemed to encourage him. Slowly, his thumbs began to massage my sole. His fingers holding my foot tightly as if he was determined not to let me leave.

I watched him enjoy my feet. I had never even considered a man having a foot fetish until reading his stories. And looking back, it is quite possible his stories had created a similar, opposing fetish within me.

The bulge in his pants had grown steadily so I decided it was time to move the evening forward. I let my foot drop to the floor and removed my left shoe.

He watched me as I positioned my left foot on his lap and smiled.

“This one too?” he asked.

“Of course, we have to be fair now.” I smiled back.

This time I slid forward in my chair and lifted my right foot back up and placed it between his legs, resting against his now very hard cock.

At first, his hands slowed. I expected he was simply overwhelmed so I started slowly, rubbing him from side to side. I watched his focus switch between my two feet – the one he was attending to and the other that was attending to him!

For a long while, he simply stared down and the pair of stocking clad feet he was playing with. I was amazed at his passiveness – he didn’t seem at all interested in accelerating things or scaring me off. So I happily let him take his time.

It didn’t take long before I was becoming anxious for more. My foot rubbing his cock was now firmly pleasuring his entire length. A small wet spot had formed through his pants and I was doing my best to encourage it to grow in size.

I got the feeling he could tell I was wanting more and he finally looked up at me. I was waiting for him with a seductive smile. My hand slid across my chest and gently pushed my blouse open to expose my bra and cleavage.

“Don’t stop,” was all I said.

My eyes closed as my head dropped back. I wanted to give him the ability to look at me and do as he pleased without feeling like he was being watched.

He was finally past the point of needing encouragement.

In fact, I was slightly surprised to feel him finally take the lead as he lifted my foot up towards his face, gently rubbing my toes against his lips. I could feel his breath as he inhaled in my scent. His lips gently touched each of my toes before kissing down the middle of my sole.

A smile crossed my face as I knew this was exactly what he had wanted, what he had dreamed about. Knowing I was making his fantasy a reality was an incredible turn on for me. I felt my body take control of itself, my right hand now massaging my breast as my left had slid up between my legs, pulling my skirt up to begin rubbing my soaking wet panties.

I felt him slowly caress and kiss my stocking foot. Each toe was gently being placed in his mouth as his tongue explored the feel and taste of me. If I wasn’t already aroused, this was doing it. My fingers slipped around my panties and I felt my own skin. I had no idea if he was watching me or not but I hoped he was. I desperately wanted to perform for him while he licked my feet.

I was about to climax when I felt my leg lowering. Before I could lift my head to protest, he spoke.

What choice did I have? I continued pleasuring myself while waiting for what he had in store.

I felt my foot rest on his lap as the other felt him shift as he lowerd his zipper.

“Yes – here we go,” I thought to myself.

Within moments both my feet were sandwiching his shaft as he guided them up and down in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

I could feel the strength in his hands as he held my ankles tightly. His breathing had changed, he was fully immersed in this now. I wanted desperately to see his face and watch as he pleasured himself with my feet.

Slowly, my head came forward and the blood began to rush back to my head. As my eyes cleared, I saw him staring at me intently. His eyes burning with passion as his hands continued to move faster and faster up and down his cock.

I tore my eyes from his to look down. Adding the image to the sensation I was feeling, my black stocking feet were devouring his long, hard cock on each stroke. The pre cum was flowing out of him and down on to my arches, though my feet were moving too quickly for me to see the details.

My pussy was on fire as my head spun. I was so aroused I wasn’t thinking straight, but I didn’t care. My mouth began to speak.

“I want you inside of me,” I heard myself say.

He just continued to stare, jerking himself off with my feet.

His lack of response made me even hotter. I could feel myself losing control. "Please,” I begged. “Please, please fuck me.”

I felt his hands grip me tightly as he stroked himself a few last times before quickly pushing my feet to the floor.

He stood quickly, not giving me any time to react. He took my hand and had me stand, turn, and sit down on the edge of the table. I knew it was finally time. I laid myself back and opened my legs wide. I felt him forcefully pull my panties to the side before feeling the tip of his cock press against me.

“Oh God,” I mumbled, half consciously. My eyes rolled back and closed, wanting to simply feel the experience.

He pressed himself in slowly, an inch, if that, before taking my legs and positioning them up in the air.

With my stocking legs spread wide open for him, I felt him slowly begin pressing inside of me. Inch by inch, he sunk deeper and deeper into my sex. I stretched to accommodate him. Feeling him move deeper until his body pressed against mine. I let out a moan as he paused, fully inside me. He moved my legs, I felt his lips against my calf. His other hand stroking my leg up and down.

His body began to move. He was fucking me. Finally. The man that I had wanted for so long now was inside of me, pressing deep against me and pleasuring me as he enjoyed my stocking legs.

I could feel he was close, the build up after all had been intense. I looked up to see his tongue gently skidding up my stocking foot. It may have been the hottest thing I had ever seen.

I lowered my hand to my clit and began rubbing myself. It was going to be quick for me as well.

“I… want you… to cum on my…. stockings…" I managed between thrusts.

I saw him nod in agreement, his face indicating it would not be long now.

I could feel myself at the brink of my own climax but was determined to wait for him.

Luckily for me, I didn’t have to wait long. I felt my legs lowering and him pulling away from me. I did my best to help by turning on the table and positioning my legs for what was coming.

I lifted my head to watch. My fingers now frantically rubbing myself past the point of no return. Just as my orgasm began, I saw the thick streams of white cum fall against the black material of my stockings. Stream after stream coated me, though I did not see as my head had fallen back when my own body continued to shudder in ecstasy.

It was several moments before I lifted my head to look at him. His cock had softened slightly as it gently rubbed the cum into my stocking leg.

I smiled at him. “Did you enjoy that?”

“I did, yes.”

“Good,” I responded. “I had a feeling you would.”

I looked up to see a smile crossing his face.

Mission complete!