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The story of a office worker who is enchanted by her co-worker and the daydreams she has regarding her. this is a short basic opening chapter, depending on any feedback,all characters and story will be more fleshed out in time

Submitted:Jul 28, 2011    Reads: 1,125    Comments: 5    Likes: 4   

Ever since she arrived in our office, she has tantalized and tormented me, for three whole months she has been the source of my mental enjoyment, the reason why I have spent hour's day dreaming and smiling almost grotesquely to myself. Her black flowing satin like hair, the lustrous blood red lips that shine with enticement, the softness of her oceanic blue eyes that are beguiling and enchanting all make for a dreamy, delectable delight.

Her body is flawless in its beauty, astounding in its conception, figure that is hour-glass and perfect, legs that are long, rising up to embrace thighs that are formed and a waist that arches out pure femininity. Her stomach is trim and taut, her breasts, oh her breasts, how many hours have I thought of those beauties, their self supporting pillows of dedicated passion, the nipples that throb and pulse like a beacon to desire.

She sits opposite me, less than twenty five yards away, yet she may as well be a million miles away, she knows nothing of what she has done to me, how when she smiles, my heart does flutter. I have watched how she walks, the suggestive beauty of her legs with each stride, the way her hips sway and swagger, re-enforcing the femininity that does exuberate from every inch of her shimmering form.

In my mind I have conjured up a million scenarios, a million wishful ways to extract the pleasure from within her, I have thought about everything kinky, everything seductive and well just everything that is sexual. I hunger and thirst for her, yearn and at times despair for her, I want to taste her body, to sample its pleasures and inflict upon her the sublime delights of seeing her buck, twist and moan in sexual ecstasy.

Watching her now, I can feel my thoughts slipping, the lurid delights of my imagination rising to the surface, like an all encompassing plague, which I really do not want to fight. The office is warm and sultry, the air close and claustrophobic, loose fitting clothes are the item of today, be it long flowing summer dresses or skirts, or light black office style trousers. Today she is wearing a long white and flowered skirt, which drapes gorgeous around her ankles, her nylon covered feet are encased by black ballerina type shoes, that slide on and off at her will without any hassle.

I begin to wonder what lingerie she is wearing, I can see her in fine glossy stockings, a delicate lace suspender belt and matching exquisite panties. The loose, baggy white blouse, that has transparent see-through sleeves, I imagine that she has no bra under its domain, her sumptuous breasts free and only to willing to feel the silken material brush against the nub of her feminine chest.

I can imagine myself crawling towards her, slipping under the oaken desk which she sits at, my hands removing her shoes, my mouth and tongue, lapping at her feet, kisses that resonate with desire and lust.

Slowly I advance upwards, my head sliding under her skirt, I feel the warmth of her body against my face, as my mouth a presses once more against her legs in turn. The touch of nylon against the softness of my red, glossy lips, the tip of my tongue, which skims over the surface, sends shivers traversing throughout body. Each embrace is emphatic and resonates with desire, each kiss is designed to last minutes not seconds, to fade slowly and seep down, beneath the flesh into the body and let the excitement build.

My hands would rest lightly upon her curving thighs, as still my mouth would ascend, lips and tongue, tormenting, teasing, pleasing and exciting her lower body. My kisses would be so passionate, so skilful so enchanting that nerve endings within her would become alive, awaken from their slumber and tingle with desire. I would let my tongue; run over the tops of her stockings, flicking between the intricate patterns of their design and caressing the very spot where nylon and lace give way to soft, velvet type flesh.

I would be lost in the throng of delight, my mind solely focused upon the greatness of the task I have set it, dedicated to make her shiver, to hear those soft and passionate words flow from her mouth, to listen to them, soft and raspy, so filled with desire and lust, to become abandoned to the moment, the pleasure and fulfillment of the needs which would stealth fully creep over and consume her.

To press my lips against her inner thighs, to feel the warmth of her flesh, the softness of its beauty, to let my tongue swirl, glide over its surface, to bequest and bestow upon it embraces of emphatic and unequivocal displays of lavish affection for my new lover. To be able to smell the arousal of her desire, the building of sensual pleasure, to feel her muscles relax and tighten as the spasms of delight are carried upon a crest of sensual and sexual delight, where nerve ends pulse and throb, silently scream out their joyous delight, and where my lips and tongue have been her flesh resonates with tingling electrification of luxurious gratification.


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