Tied up at Wor

She rubbed the side of her neck as she often did. It didn't ache so much as it was a nervous habit. Some of that was reflexive, but for some reason, talking to him just made her feel anxious in general. She wasn't completely sure why. He had always treated her with the utmost respect, but there was something in his eyes, his gaze, that put her off balance. Perhaps it was the fear of not having his approval. She was a dutiful employee and hoped he saw that she was devoted. Maybe more than she should be. Maybe for the wrong reasons.

"What's wrong with your neck?" he asked.

"Oh, it's nothing really. Just a nervous tic." She smiled and blushed ever-so-slightly. He had worked with her for years and couldn't pinpoint the exact moment that he found her attractive, but the smile and the dimples undoubtedly had something to do with it.

"What do you have to be nervous about? It's only me!" He beckoned her over. "Close the door." She complied and walked over. "You do look tense."

"I suppose I am." If she wasn't tense before, she certainly was now.

"Well, we can't have that, can we? Have a seat." He pointed towards a chair in the office. She sat down and he circled behind her.

"Ever the people-pleaser, as always," she scolded herself quietly. She had historically had a hard time refusing people, especially those whom she admired and trusted. She had desperately sought the affection and the feeling of being needed by those most of all.

She felt his hands come to rest on her shoulders. Before she could object, she could feel the steady rhythm of his touch as he started tending to her shoulders. His hands were deceptively strong and she felt alternating compressions of pain and pleasure as he began kneading out the knots. She began squirming in her seat as she subconsciously fought back.

"I'm not sure that this—." He had moved one hand to the left side of her neck. A feeling of calm coursed through her body. She finally relinquished control and tilted her head to the right to give him easier access.

He smiled to himself, knowing now that she wanted this too. He listened to her breathing—the quick inhale followed by an audible gulp and drawn out exhalation before the pattern repeated itself again and yet again. He switched his hand positioning so as to massage the right side of the neck. The tension lifting, she slumped her shoulders down in defeat.

Using his thumbs, he thrust into the muscles of the upper back on either side of the spine. This made her already ample bosom involuntarily jut out even more. She hoped he hadn't noticed. He did.

"Take off your shirt," he whispered in her ear. This brought her back to reality and she opened her eyes. "Take off your shirt," he repeated in hushed tones. She paused and considered his request. This was the moment of truth. To his joy, she pulled her top off exposing a lacy beige bra underneath.

He continued his massage on her upper back and worked his way to the lower back. "You like this?" he hissed in her ear. She moaned a faint reply, indicating yes. This empowered him to push her further. He deftly unsnapped the bra and it fell to the floor.

She felt the unmistakable feeling of his lips on her exposed neck, where it transitioned to the shoulders. They were soft but wet, and the kisses he planted seemed to burn through her skin. The frequency increased, as did the intensity and they were now interspersed with gentle, playful biting at the nape of her neck. When he worked his way to her earlobe, her head swayed back as she was lost in the throngs of ecstasy. That had always been a potent erogenous zone for her.

"How did he know?" she thought in her delirium. His hands were free now and he was aggressively massaging her breasts, as he now had an unobstructed view. He twirled his fingers around her sensitive nipples and they grew to attention. She was panting hard now.

He suddenly spun her in the office chair and they were face-to-face, her dazzling green eyes meeting his jet-black ones. Her head bobbed up and down in time with her heavy breathing, her 36 Ds rising and falling in perfect synchrony. In contrast, he was perfectly still. Their gazes met for an intense two seconds and then they embraced. His lips met hers and they parted. Each tongue explored the other as they kissed violently. He took advantage of this time to quickly unbutton his shirt. She caught sight of the tattoo on the left side of his chest and pulled away. She traced the curves of the tattoo on his left pec as he looked down at her finger. She could feel the steady thump thump of his heartbeat. He pushed her away and placed his hands at her waist. He gently but firmly lifted her to a standing position. She was a tall woman, and had always regretted this. Usually, it made her feel less feminine, but not today! In this moment, she felt utterly adored and the very embodiment of sensuality.

He motioned towards the desk in the room. She walked towards it and he slowly pushed her backwards onto the desk, her legs left dangling from the edge. He unfastened his belt and unzipped his pants and she expected his trousers to fall to the ground. They didn't. From her vantage point, his obvious arousal was the most likely cause of resistance.

"You look stunning," he mused out loud. He took a hard look at the half-nude specimen that lay in front of him. Her soft, ivory skin glistened with sweat and her cheeks remained flushed. She fluttered her eyelashes at him coquettishly. Was it any surprise that he had become consumed with the idea of being one with her? Beyond that, he wanted her to need him. He needed that.

He thought for a moment and an idea formed in his head. Taking the belt he had in his hand, he wound it around the puzzled girl's wrists and table leg, buckling it as tight as he could muster. She gasped as she felt a momentary feeling of discomfort, her arms tightly bound above her head, pinning her tightly. Normally, she hated feeling so helpless, but this was a welcome thrill! She had given up all control, including all responsibility and, therefore, all anxiety and guilt. Now she was free to focus purely on the one thing left on her mind—blind lust.

He opened his mouth and took in a large amount of her right nipple and supple breast. He sucked on it steadily, gaining increased vacuum, while his hands played with her left nipple and circled the areola. She let out a series of aahhhs and arched her back. He pulled away once again, to her dismay, and slowly slid off her pants, revealing a matching set of lacy underwear. She instinctively crossed her legs out of some sense of misplaced embarrassment. In a display of authority, he yanked her legs apart and immediately began kissing her inner thigh, throwing in an occasional nibble. Occasionally, the bristle of his stubble would prickle her and she would take an exaggerated breath as her ass tried to burrow into the table.

She was wet now and her panties were reaching translucency. The climax was building and seemed inevitable. Periodically, he would "accidentally" rub up against her sex with the side of his cheek as he sucked on and kissed that inner thigh. When he did, waves of electricity shot into her. He licked the outside of her soaked panties. It tasted equal parts salty and sweet. Her mind drifted off and she hadn't even noticed when her panties had been ripped to the floor. He spread her open and resumed going down on her, lapping up juices and his tongue doing cartwheels on her clitoris. When his finger went inside, she had had enough. She couldn't take much more of this.

"What is he waiting for?" she thought. In a desperate attempt, she mustered her remaining strength and embraced him with her legs to garner his attention.

"Make love to me!" she said softly, any trace of resistance now washed away.

"Only if you beg for it," he said unforgivingly. She didn't take kindly to this and the feminist in her did not want to give him the satisfaction. But her body betrayed her, aching, longing for finality and a sweet release by the most natural way possible.

"Please, let's have sex!"

"Like you mean it," he countered. He seemed determined to make her understand who was in control.

"Would you fuck me already?! For God's sake, I beg you, please!" she pleaded enthusiastically. With that, he pulled off his trousers and boxers in one continuous motion and she could finally see him at full length. He was hard and he clearly enjoyed the foreplay. He pulled her closer to the edge of the table, and she fell back in delight, legs eagerly splayed open. She closed her eyes and could feel his tip rubbing back and forth, back and forth across her inviting opening. She was so close! A smile formed on her face in anticipation of penetration and...nothing.

She opened her eyes. He was putting his pants back on. She lay there bewildered. Once he started buttoning his shirt, he walked over and loosened up the belt.

"Maybe next time," he said nonchalantly. He tweaked her left nipple playfully. "Why don't you go ahead and get dressed," he said and walked out of the room. She was alone now, naked and covered in both of their sweat.

She put on her clothes and left, feeling unfinished and wanting, like a drug user needing another hit. She wondered if she had somehow done something wrong, something to turn him away. She had very nearly seduced him—next time she resolved she would finish the job.