The Executive Assistant
Jorge had always treated me like a queen, showering me with gifts, cosmetics, and the finest clothes. He had a way of making me feel truly desired, a feeling that intensified every time we met in secret. When he proposed that I leave my current job to become his personal secretary at his law firm, the offer was too tempting to refuse. He promised double my current salary and a wardrobe that would make me the envy of every woman in the building.
The first Monday morning, I arrived at the office feeling a mix of nervous anticipation and raw excitement. I had spent hours preparing, moisturizing my skin until it was silky smooth, knowing exactly how much Jorge appreciated a soft touch. I carried a bag with a secret change of clothes, a silent promise of the duality my new role would require.
Jorge greeted me with a commanding presence. After showing me my desk and the layout of the office, he led me into his private suite. On his desk sat two bags. One contained a sophisticated grey skirt suit—professional, expensive, and tight in all the right places. The other contained something far more provocative: a black lace bodysuit, sheer stockings with a garter belt, and towering twelve-centimeter acrylic heels.
“In the office, you are my professional secretary,” he whispered, his voice dropping an octave. “But when the door is closed, you are mine to command.”
The ritual of dressing was an erotic experience in itself. I layered the professional attire over the lace and silk, the secret friction of the bodysuit against my skin keeping me in a state of constant arousal. When Jorge returned from meeting a client, the look in his eyes told me he knew exactly what was hiding beneath the grey fabric.
He didn’t waste time. He sat behind his mahogany desk and guided me to my knees. The transition from employee to lover was instantaneous. I looked up at him, my eyes locking with his as I took him into my mouth, savoring the power dynamic and the sheer size of him. The sounds of his soft groans filled the quiet office, echoing against the walls of law books and leather.
Soon, the professional facade was stripped away. He helped me out of the suit, revealing the black lace that clung to my curves. He pressed me against the wall, his hands gripping my waist with a possessive intensity. When he entered me, the sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of risk and pleasure. We moved together in a frantic rhythm, the thrill of being in a place of business adding a sharp edge to the ecstasy.
As he reached his peak, he filled me with a warmth that left me breathless. We collapsed onto the leather sofa, exhausted and glowing. He kissed me softly, a stark contrast to the intensity of the last hour.
“We will repeat this every single day you work here,” he promised.
I smiled, already looking forward to the duality of my new life. I dressed quickly, smoothed out my skirt, and went to prepare the coffee, playing the part of the perfect secretary while still feeling the lingering heat of my boss inside me.