It was his eyes that first attracted me to him. He had eyes that seemed to penetrate deep into your very being. Compelling eyes. Bedroom eyes. I wanted to fuck him right from the moment I first saw him.
His name was Simon. He worked in another part of the office. It was my friend, Melanie, who first told me about him and encouraged me to go with her when she had to see him about some work. I saw him through the window before we went into his office and I knew immediately that I wanted him. It wasn't just his cute face, or his athletic figure, or that tantalizing ass. It wasn't just the way he walked, the confident way he lounged in his chair, or the sparkle in his eye when he looked at me. No, there was something else, something indefinably erotic about him. I knew that whenever I was with him, it would happen. His very presence would do it to me. My pussy moistened the moment I sat opposite him.
I was wearing a tight pair of denims. I stretched out in the chair opposite him, while he talked to Melanie about work. I tried to highlight my curves. I knew my tight shirt showed off my tits. I wanted to get that first impression right.
When our eyes first met, something magical happened. I smiled at him, leered a little, wondered what he would think if he could read my mind. I knew he was probably mentally undressing me, but did he know that I was doing the same to him? Did he know that I was imagining him fucking me hard before we had even introduced ourselves? What would he have thought if he knew I was as wet as anything and as horny as hell?
In those few brief moments, I was aware that he looked me up and down. It must have been deliberate, the way he started at my feet and then moved his eyes up my legs, lingered on my crotch, moved up my body, over my breasts and then settled on my face. He was staring intently at me, almost as if he could see right into me.
I tried to confidently smile at him, tried to affect that "come fuck me" look, but I don't know if it worked. In truth, I was so flustered, I don't know how I looked. I swear I thought I saw a bulge developing in his pants, thought I heard him sharply draw breath, but my own heart was thumping so much I could barely take it all in. My face was flushed and my pussy was on fire when his eyes met mine.
In those moments, I saw him standing up, asking Melanie to leave us alone, and locking the door. I saw him closing the blinds, then removing his tie as he walked back to his desk, undoing the top button of his shirt, all the time staring at me, undressing me. As he got closer, I opened my legs a few inches, his eyes caught the movement of denim and he moaned. Enjoying the effect I was having on him, I ran my tongue along my lips and simpered at him. I felt like such a slut, but I didn't care.
In my instantaneous fantasy, Simon knelt in front of me, between my legs, and ran his hands along my thighs. I shuddered with delight. His hands were so firm and so confident they were going to get their way. His touch made me feel weak and when he reached up and grabbed my shirt by the collars and ripped it apart in one quick tug, I moaned.
Simon paused briefly to look at my tits and the black bra I was wearing. I knew my nipples had hardened, betraying my excitement. My chest was heaving and he was watching my breasts rise and fall. Then he half stood, leaned forward, ran his hands over my tits, squeezing and kneading just the way I like it. He leaned in towards me, his crotch touching mine. I could feel his dick through his pants, hard, hot.
His face moved into mine until our lips were only an inch apart. "I have to fuck you," he whispered.
"Mmm, fuck me," I responded. I was so incredibly horny that I just wanted him inside me, but he had other ideas. As we kissed and rubbed against each other, his hands reached for the button of my jeans. I moaned because of the way he looked into my eyes as he lowered the zip, pulling slowly, but so firmly. Then he had my jeans off and I was sitting there in just bra and pants. He had a half-smile, that cocky look of "I did it" on his face. He moved back in to touch me, but I held up my hand, as a traffic cop would. He looked confused, alarmed and disappointed all at once. I've always loved it that way, getting the guy to the point where the threat of rejection is unbearable to contemplate.
"Take your clothes off," I commanded. "Strip for me."
Simon looked relieved, but slightly self-conscious as well. Perhaps he wasn't used to being dominated like this, but my self-confidence was asserting itself and I became determined to milk it for all I could.
"Go on," I whispered.
He stood, our roles now reversed. The Simon who had so confidently locked his office door was now being directed by me. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt. To my delight, his chest was relatively smooth. I feasted on his form, admiring the shape of his shoulders, the size of his arms, the flatness of his stomach. I groaned as I drank in his body and my eyes were drawn to his hard little nipples. Damn, he was gorgeous.
