Lusting You

Lusting You

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Deb gets a rather nice surprise from Grant, her boss and owner of the company she works for. After a few intense sexual encounters in the past, can their mutual attraction lead to something more?


Deb gets a rather nice surprise from Grant, her boss and owner of the company she works for. After a few intense sexual encounters in the past, can their mutual attraction lead to something more?

Chapter1 (v.1) - Teasing Meeting

Author Chapter Note

Somehow, Grant exercises way too much control over my will for comfort. Frankly, I can’t get enough of him. Other than sex though what else exists between us?

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: July 15, 2016

Reads: 3826

Comments: 3

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: July 15, 2016



Chapter 1 – Teasing Meeting


Buzz!  Buzz!

My mobile phone vibrates on the conference room table.  I instantly snatch it up glancing around at my co-workers with embarrassment.  They roll their eyes at me and then focus on the presenter.  Usually, it doesn’t go off at all unless Mom needs something that she couldn’t get on her own because of her fixed income at the Assisted Living place where she stays.  My Dad’s passed away a while back, so I only have Mom left, and her health is not the greatest.  She’s independent enough to still live on her own, however.  I don’t know what possessed me to bring the phone otherwise.  Feeling it rude, I usually don’t to meetings. 

The special project meeting my supervisor conducts is supposed to be short and sweet, though.  Humph!  Sarah fails miserably once including Louis the soul sucker!  I roll my own eyes.  For the last 15 minutes, my co-workers and I sit at the conference table subjected to the insufferable man-child.  Ridiculous!  Louis is in his 40s for Christ’s sake.  He could suck it up.  We do!

Instead, Louis bitches and whines about how unfair it is he always gets volunteered to do extra work when he was already overwhelmed.  Join the club, dude!  Their whole department was short-staffed and overworked for a while now since the hiring freeze.  Sure more employees retired, but those same folks were NOT replaced by HR.  People like me make do the best we can.  It really sucks, but even more when having to deal with time eaters like Louis. 

Bored half out of my skull listening to Louis complain for another soul-crushing 5 minutes straight, I sneak a peek at my phone beneath the conference table to see who texted me out of curiosity.

Unknown:  Where r u?

I frown.  This number doesn’t look familiar, and I have no idea who this is.  Shaking my head, I figure it’s a wrong number.  Sighing, I go back to propping up my head trying not to sleep at the mind-numbing standstill this meeting has come to because of Louis who I want to strangle.  Or maybe just Sarah who lost control of this meeting?!  Geez…

Buzz!  Buzz!

My phone vibrates in my hand startling me.  I peek at it under the conference table again.  The same unknown number. 

Unknown:  I know u r there, Deb.

My mouth drops open as my eyes widen.  Okay, so this call was for me.  But, whose number was this?

Me:  Who r u?

Unknown:  Who do u think?

Me:  I’ve no idea, smarty pants.  Y I asked.

Unknown:  Do u have so many lovers that’s a problem?

My jaw dropped again at the pompous texter!  Clearly, it’s a guy.  I clenched my jaw very annoyed.

Me:  None of ur business, asshole!

Unknown:  I’m just teasin.  It’s Grant.

I stare stupidly at my phone.  Grant?  President and CEO Grant Odell is texting me?  The owner of the freakin’ company I work for?!  What the hell?!  My face burns that I just insulted the big boss and also at the memories that assault me.  He’s the man a week ago who calls me up to his office on the top floor of the building so he can pound me dilly on his desk!  And, three weeks before that he drills me over a multipurpose copier machine on my floor.  Of course, what stands out most in my mind is the moment of our first encounter. 

Every time I step foot in an elevator, my mind goes back to when stuck in there with a stranger.  I totally freak out when the lights blare on and then dim!  Grant calms me down, somehow knows who I am, but I have no idea who he is then.  I just know he is sexy as hell, and I feel the strong attraction between him and me.  Succumbing to his passion, I never regret the delicious fucking that took place.  I could hardly believe it, or how good it feels!

Like then, I wonder what else Grant knows about me?  At each of our encounters, my boss nor I ever bother much with … uh-hmm … conversation.  We screw with a fervor, and it is so freakin’ amazing every time.  I couldn’t remember the last time I engage in spontaneous sex like that where a guy makes me cum the way Grant does.

The moment my boss looks at me with those hazel eyes in hunger and intent on having me, I sprout wetness for him from my coochie.  Hell, I’m wet now just thinking about it all!  Flush of face, of ears as I touch them in disbelief, my whole body reacts to the very thought of Grant and what he does to me.  That text he sends acts like the knob to the oven, which heats up inside me.  My nipples harden against the lace of my bra, straining.  Suddenly, the cups grow too small.  I press my thighs together hoping for relief yet find none as I close my eyes and fan my neck.  Geez!

The command Grant exhibits.  Damn.  The confidence.  He looks at me, and I do whatever he wants.  Irresistible?  Yes, that’s what he feels like to me.  It’s not clear why.  I only know that he is.  How dangerous!  I seem to have so little control of myself when I’m in his presence, yet I’m unsure how to counteract that feeling.  Work now becomes a chore because my concentration bites the dust!  Literally.  I fear Grant might appear without warning or worse summon me to his office to fuck my brains out again. 

My best friend Norah thinks I’m crazy.  In her book, that’s a wonderful problem.  Some gorgeous, older man, with a good job, wants a piece of me every time he sees me?  How could that be bad?  What if this thing soured, I told her.  What if I then had to contend day in and out with seeing my boss and remembering what happened between us?  Can’t even begin to imagine how terrible that would be! 

My argument is this:  I am more than the sum of my lady parts!  The way I cave to this man like a drug scares me to death.  He could really hurt me, and I want nothing to do with that.  Recently, I end a yearlong relationship with Rodney who likes to manipulate me to do his bidding and often uses sex to do it.  He isn’t serious about a commitment to me like I want.  The prick desires his cake and to eat it, too.  Well, not here, not anymore!  Rodney could have as much cake as he wants.  It just wouldn’t be mine. 

I move out of his apartment and back in with Norah.  She and I were roommates since college.  She accepts me back with open arms being a sweetheart.  I really didn’t know what I would do without her always supporting me when I need her most.

So here, I seem to get myself mixed up with another manipulative guy!  This one just happens to be my boss.  Somehow, Grant exercises way too much control over my will for comfort.  Frankly, I can’t get enough of him.  Other than sex though what else exists between us?  I draw a blank.  Our interactions have been brief but intense.  They fuel my sizzling dreams that leave me drenched and horny.

Nibbling my lip, it worries me this thing with Grant is only physical though.  If I care to examine things, I know so little about the big boss.  I have no idea if he’s married or not!  My first thought is he’s so successful running the marketing company like a tight ship with so few employees.  Wouldn’t such a person be married?  Of course, someone like this must have a beautiful wife and tons of kids!  That makes me a homewrecker!  Such thoughts make me miserable in the nervous stomach cramps that creep up on me. 

Why can’t I do simple, uncomplicated relationships with men?  Always a damn production with me!  At least, that’s what my last boyfriend says.  I take a deep almost shuddering breath.

Buzz!  Buzz!  Goes my phone again in my lap as I daydream in the recesses of my confused mind.  I glance down and can’t help rolling my eyes.

Grant:  R u still there?

Me:  How did u get this number?

Grant:  How do u think?

Me:  Do I need 2 report u 2 HR 4 sexual harassment?

I bit my lower lip unable to stop the start of the grin on my lips in amusement at that politically correct statement.

Grant:  Not yet, sexy lady.  Maybe once I spank that cheeky ass of urs.

I gasp with my hand shooting to my mouth as my eyes widen.  My face flushes a deeper red.

Me:  Did u want somethin?  I’m not paid 2 text. 

Grant:  Meet me 4 dinner after work 2day.

Me:  I don’t think that’s a good idea.

Grant:  Of course, it isn’t.  It’s a great idea!  Meet me downstairs in lobby @ 5:30. 

Me:  No, I mean I really can’t.

Grant:  But u haven’t seen ur surprise yet.

I frown.  What in the world is he talking about?

Grant:  I look forward 2 seein u soon.  Text me when u get back 2 ur desk.

Is there something at my desk?  I nibble my lip as I look up at the clock.  An hour flew by, and we appear no closer to a plan because Louis keeps hijacking the damn meeting with his petty shit! 

Sarah finally tells Louis she will talk to him about his issues later.  She ends the torture that is this damn unproductive meeting!  Thank God!  I am the first person to almost run out of there before my supervisor changes her mind.  At my cubicle on my desk, a large box waits.  It’s from Nordstrom’s.  What the hell? 

I dig into the box in excitement and pull from it a cocktail dress of a stunning cobalt blue.  Also in the box is lingerie.  Ooooo, a lacy blue satin short slip fringed with a bit of French lace along the edges.  I’m speechless at how lovely this all is.  I check the label on both, and they’re the perfect size for me.  How could Grant know?  I immediately text him, but it’s hard because my hands are shaking.

Me:  I can’t accept this.

Grant:  U can & will.  See u 2night, Deb.  Can’t wait 2 see u….

© Copyright 2020 Amy F. Turner. All rights reserved.


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