Authors note.
Non of this story what it first seems.
My thanks go to Piscator from the Literotica Volunteer Editor program for helping add some polish to submission.
The confines of the wardrobe felt claustrophobic.
About me the stifling air, a heady mixture of perfume, mothballs and fabric conditioner, soon began to nauseate.
Then the black woollen balaclava started to irritate my skin.
As I waited, sweat trickled down my back, draining down the lower curve of my spine before disappearing into the crevasse between my butt.
I desperately wanted to cool off and remove my coat, but needed the contents of the pockets at hand when I burst out and took her.
After what seemed an eternity, she breezed into the bedroom looking happy and relaxed. She was dressed in a smart light-grey business suit, white silk blouse, dark stockings and high heels.
Except it wasn't like any business suit I'd ever seen.
The skirt was way too short for the office - revealing glimpses of dark stocking tops as she moved, the erotic swish of it's silk lining sliding smoothly over black nylon.
Her silk blouse was also cut way too low to possibly be tolerated by even the most open-minded of office managers, her sit-up-and/beg breasts bursting out the top of a lace bra revealed the dimpled edges of both large brown areoles.
Was she already dressed for sex?
For a woman in her mid forties she still looked fit and devastatingly attractive. I knew she worked out in the nearby gym as I'd watched her several times pumping weights in her clinging lycra gym clothes.
Although she carried a few extra pounds around her waist and shoulders, her arms had good muscle definition and her thighs bulged like pile-drivers. Her skin was more tanned then last I'd seen her, I guessed she had recently been under the UV lamps.
It was her jet black hair that had first attracted me to her, that and an alluring ski slope nose, full lips and dark eyes.
She was an Amazon and I anticipated a tough struggle to subdue her before I could thrust my rampant penis into her muscular body.
Strangely I didn't want to mark her or hurt that magnificent physique. I just longed to feel my naked body against her skin, force her to submit and violate her hard in both holes.
She intimidated me. But I had to be her master.
Humming something tuneless she shimmied out of her skirt which slid down her legs to crumple on the hard floor. Casually glancing down she carelessly stepped one leg out of the waistband, the light catching the sheen of her expensive silk stockings. Stepping sideways she hooked the waistband of the skirt on the toe of her stiletto shoe and deftly flicked it through the open bathroom door onto the polished granite tiles.
Outside the house an emergency vehicle sped past, sirens clearing the way ahead. She seemed to pause, smile and listened until it faded into the traffic noise of the evening rush hour.
Her luxurious Parisian perfume pervaded the room somehow finding a way into the wardrobe, further enfaming my passion.
By now my eye was pressed close to the spy hole in anticipation of the moment I would launch my attack.
Meanwhile she had taken her smartphone from her shoulder bag and with one hand thumbed in a number.
With her other hand she began to slowly ease the top button of her blouse.
I dare not attack while she was speaking to someone else.
While she waited for the number to ring she walked confidently around to the bottom of the bed directly facing my hiding place, her stilettos clicking sexily on the polished wooden floor.
My heart leapt in panic for a moment as she seemed to be looking directly at me.
Then I realised she was examining her body in the mirrors hanging on the outside of the wardrobe doors.
Seeming to approve of what she saw, she cupped a firm breast and nodded to herself in approval.
To get a better view of her I had to move carefully to my right to see through the thin gap between the doors. I was breathing heavily anticipating that thrilling moment when I would be discovered.
But she remained relaxed.
She had just sat down just a few feet from my hiding place as someone must have answered her call.
"Hello, is that Mrs Okara?" she asked in the cultured voice of an educated professional.
"This is Leanne Cooper from your husband's office, I'm so sorry to have disturbed your evening but I'm finalising the papers for tomorrow's board meeting and the CEO would like David to check a couple of points if he's at home?
As she spoke she unfastened the last button on her blouse and began adjusting a strap of her suspender belt, momentarily admiring her sleek legs in the mirror.
After a few seconds she spoke again, "Yes I'm still at my desk but this doesn't happen very often, just a few minutes more then it's home for me, a hot bath and put my tired feet up. That's what you get for being the Chief Executive's Personal Assistant."
Then added, "Thank you Mrs Okara, of course I'll hold, and once again I apologise for calling your husband at home."
As she waited she slipped a heel out of one shoe and began flicking it from side to side, her silken leg stretched out - as if somehow flirting with me.
Then her face lit up as the man she was calling had evidently picked up the phone.
"It's me Leanne. No of course I'm not still at the office, I just said that to put your Stepford fucking bitch off the scent." She listened for a few moments then said, "Is the frigid slut still there? Are you free to speak?"
There was a pause in the conversation. I imagined the man putting down the phone and closing a door for privacy or perhaps he moved into another room.
In that time she put down the phone, wriggled out of her blouse, quickly reaching behind her to remove her push-up bra. Now all she wore was the black six-strap suspender belt, seamed black nylons and matching patent high heels.
God she looked hot!
