by Emmie Combs
"Yes, ma'am, I've been told," she answered, bringing me out of my reverie. "It is what made me want to follow in your footsteps. I just got my degree in social work from St. Andrew's and I don't want to waste it stuck in the system. 'Dreams' really does make a difference in the lives of the people it touches, and I want to be a part of that. I know that I was called to fill in for your assistant. But I believe in the laws of the universe. And I know that this is where I work," she stated, with such an utter unshakeable belief in herself that I was reminded of her aunt.
I smiled then and stood. "Well, then on that note, let's get you started, shall we?"
"Yes, please," she said in her rich, melodious voice. And the way she said it, the tone, the absolute sexiness in those two syllables caused my knees to shake just a little. I felt my walls get slick with wetness as my mind flashed to her naked, blindfolded, and on her knees.
'This is gonna be a long day,' I thought, as I showed her out. I spent the next hour in her company, showing her around, explaining how I liked things done. She paid rapt attention to every word I said, even taking notes on a small pad she carried around with her. She asked intelligent questions, and she learned very quickly.
That was almost two weeks ago. Outside of that first hour, I have gone out of my way to keep the contact with Lailani to a minimum. Sure she carries out all of her responsibilities, and we work closely together, but I barely look at her and eye contact is out of the question. It's like she's not there, even when she is.
That was two weeks ago, and every night since then, I go home and use my husband like a male whore. He's exhausted to the point where he cannot see straight, and while he's not complaining, he is beginning to question this new me. The new me that wants to have sex every single night as soon as I cross the threshold to our home. The new me that has slipped into the ladies' room on more than one occasion, to quietly slide fingers over slick quivering flesh, biting down on my tongue to keep from crying out. This new me that is perpetually wet, swollen and wanting.
Tonight we had to work late. The office is quiet. We are the only two left here. I am responsible for making sure that tomorrow's charity luncheon goes off without a hitch, and we have just finished taking care of the last minute details. I click send on the email I was working on, and watch as the little folder with wings takes off. A soft knock sounds on the door, which is open to the space outside where Lailani's desk sits.
"Johann," she says, her voice softer than usual, and I close my eyes to the sound of it.
"Yes, Lailani?" I ask.
"I have to fax my timesheet over to the agency first thing in the morning. Since this is my first pay period, I have to send this evaluation with it. I know it's late, but tomorrow you'll be so busy. I was wondering if you would mind filling it out for me before we leave tonight. Oh, and if you would sign my timesheet?"
"Sure, let me have it," I answer, shuffling papers around on my desk. I glance up as I take the papers from her hand, but just barely. It is my version of a dismissal, and she has understood and heeded it since day one. Today, she dismisses my dismissal.
I am dismayed but say nothing; assuming that she is just waiting for me to return her documents to her. I sign the timesheet first, since it is the easiest, and then focus my attention on her evaluation. I answer the questions by checking off the boxes with the answers provided. In the comments field, I write out my assessment of her, and what it has been like to work with her. Aside from my attraction to her, she is easily the best assistant I've ever had; bright, efficient, enthusiastic, and she truly cares about our clients. She is actually better than Karen, and I am beginning to hope that Karen decides to be a stay at home mom.
When I am finished writing, I hand it along with the timesheet back to her, finally looking up. Our fingertips brush as I hand over the documents, and I feel a rush of electricity at our touch. Our eyes meet, and her lips fall open, a small sigh escaping her mouth. It would seem that in my effort not to notice Lailani, I've failed to notice that Lailani finds me attractive as well. This is bad. Dangerous.
"I guess that's all for tonight, Lani, you can head out now," I tell her, knowing that she needs to get the hell out of my office before one of us fucks up.
"Thanks, Johann. Good night," she breathes, her voice barely audible, making the tone even more sexy than usual. I feel my panties soak and rub my sensitive flesh as I shift in my seat.
She does nothing to disguise the fact that she is reading my comments as she walks out of my office. As she leaves, I log off of my computer, and switch my phone to voicemail. Just as I am gathering my things to leave, I see her standing at my door.
"May I come in?" she asks.
"Sure," I answer, my own voice barely audible this time because I know that I should be saying no instead. I can feel my heartbeat thudding in my chest; echoing elsewhere in my body, behind my ears, behind my knees, between my legs. I swallow hard, and put my hands in my lap, hoping that she does not see them shaking as I hide them under the desk.
"I took the liberty to read your comments."
"I know. I saw that while you were leaving."
"I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. I was so scared you would say something unfavorable. I thought you didn't like me."
"What would make you think something like that, Lailani?" I ask her.
"I guess it's the fact that you go out of your way to avoid me, and when you have to deal with me, you go out of your way not to look at me."
I look up at her, wracking my mind for something to say, and after a few seconds I look away again. My tongue has stuck to the roof of my mouth, and my poker face has gone to hell in a hand basket, leaving my desire written all over it. I know that I have to do or say something. Soon. But my powers of speech have deserted me.
"Jo," she whispers, and I jump as I realize that she has moved from that side of my desk, and is now standing next to my chair.
"Lailani," I answer, finally giving in, and looking her in the eye. She is standing next to me, bent over at the waist, her face inches from mine. It would take only the slightest shift from either one of us to close the distance.
"Why don't you ever look at me, Johann?" she asks me, her voice a soft caress, commanding attention with ease.
I'm looking at her now. As my eyes travel her face, they stop at her inviting lips. I feel the tip of my tongue as I lick my own, and I recognize it for the tell tale sign it is. But she is unrelenting and unlike Brenda, she is fully aware of the power she wields. "Johann, why don't you ever look at me?" she asks again, and my eyes fly back to hers. "I've been here for two weeks, working side by side with you, following you around, making sure you have everything you need, and you act like I am invisible. Here I am thinking you cannot stand me, that you are desperately counting the days until Karen comes back from maternity leave, only to read your evaluation and find out that nothing could be further from the truth." She paused for the briefest moment before continuing, "Do you like me, Johann?"
"Of course I do, you just saw that for yourself. You just read it," I answer, knowing that is not what she is asking at all.
"That's not what I meant," she said, leaning a little closer, "and I think you know that."
"Lailani, don't. Please don't do this," I whisper.
"Why? If I don't, you never will. And you and I both know you never will. So I have to, because every night I go home and I wonder."
"What do you wonder?"
"I wonder what it would be like to kiss you. I wonder what it would be like to feel your lips all over my body. What it would be like to taste you. I've never wanted a woman the way that I want you," she said, her voice catching on some of her words, belying her calm. "Don't you ever wonder about it?"
In that moment, I closed the distance. Right before my lips touched hers I answered, "All the damn time." And with that, I finally gave into to the desire that had been building up for thirteen days. Thirteen days can be a very long time when they are full of longing and desire. Thirteen da
ys can seem like an eternity when you spend every waking moment denying yourself that which you want more than anything else.
She kissed like she meant it. She kissed like she wanted to erase the memory of every other woman I'd kissed before her. My fingers found the way into her hair, and I used my hand on the back of her head to crush her mouth to mine. I pulled her into my lap and she sat on my knee with her skirt riding up her thighs, as my fingers pulled the pins out of her bun. Her hair fell around her shoulders in soft rippling waves, caressing my cheeks as I let my mouth travel from her mouth to her jaw and down lower to her neck.
She smelled so good. At this time of day, she smelled as good as she did that first day on the train first thing in the morning. I let my mouth slide up the side of her neck beneath her ear and breathed, "You smell so good." Her sigh and the gooseflesh that accompanied it were the only indication I had that she'd heard me.
I felt her fingertips opening the buttons of my blouse. She fumbled with them, not out of lack of experience, but because her entire body was shaking. Like a leaf on a tree, she was shaking. Her desire rode mine, made it stronger. I raised her shaking hand to my mouth and kissed the palm of her hand, letting my tongue trace the contours of her palm, and the space between her fingers. She actually moaned out loud for me.
"Stand up," I ordered.
"Please don't stop," she begged.
I chuckled and said again, "Stand up."
This time she obeyed, and I stood with her. I took her by the hand and started to walk around the desk. When she saw that I was heading towards the door she stopped.
"No," she said, squeezing my hand and pulling me to her, kissing me again.
"Yes," I answered, pulling her with me, "or do you want the cleaning crew to see us?"
She shook her head, blushing, and I understood at once. Lailani thought I was going to kick her out of my office. Not a chance. She started this party, but I was going to finish it, and by the time I was done making love to her she would be more than my assistant. "We're not going anywhere, baby darling. Not yet. I like to finish what I start, and it's rude to leave a girl all dressed up with no place to go," I said smiling.
I closed the door and sat her on my couch. Then I knelt between her knees and kissed her slowly. I let my mouth learn the contours of hers, feel the softness of her pretty lips, taste the sweetness of her mouth as I slowly undid the buttons of her blouse. I was shaking now as much as her, but because I was going so slowly, it was easier for me to fumble a bit less. As the silk went sliding down her arms, I was greeted with the sight of black lace. I slid my fingertips between the cups and opened the front clasp, drawing away from her mouth to admire her. "Lovely," I said, "your breasts are lovely."
"I want to see yours," she answered. "Please."
I finished unbuttoning my own blouse, and she helped me out of it. Before I could reach behind me to open it, she had it opened, and was tossing my bra aside. She took the weight of my breasts in each hand, cupping them and letting her thumbs trace the already erect nipples. She leaned forward and took one into the warm recesses of her mouth, and my breath escaped in a long sigh.
She let her fingers tangle in my hair as she suckled first one and then the other breast, pulling me closer to her, as she fell back onto the couch. I traced my fingertips slowly up and down her thighs as I languished in the sensation of her mouth. I pushed her skirt up while I did so, letting my fingertips come closer and closer to her pussy each time. The closer I teased, the harder she sucked. When the fingers of my right hand brushed up the center of her panties, just barely touching her, she bit me. Not hard, just enough to make me arch my back and push into her mouth.
I slid my hands up her body, tracing her hips, waist, breasts, shoulders, neck, until I reach her face. I pull her back up to my mouth. I can't get enough of her kisses, so soft and sweet, yet passionate. While I kiss her mouth, I continue to explore her body, noting how she responds to my touch. The slightest caresses making her writhe, the satin of her panties soaked with her essence. I can feel her, her wetness, and I want so badly to taste her.
She raises her hips to help me pull down that last barrier between us. Her skirt lies forgotten, bunched up around her waist, but we can't be bothered with it anymore. She's eager now. Her breath has quickened and her eyes have glazed over with lust. I push her back into the cushions of the couch, sliding her bottom down to the edge of the seat with my hands. I open her and gaze at her with lust. The lips of her cunt match the lips on her mouth; full, ripe, pink, and incredibly inviting.
"Have you imagined this too?" I ask her, as I kiss the delicate flesh on the inside of her thighs. I feel them quiver in response and smile to myself.
"Yeah," she says. "Every night while I am lying in bed playing with myself and wishing it was you touching me."
My body tightens at her words. Everywhere. My fingertips dig into her hips, where I am holding her, and she lifts them slightly off the seat, bringing her closer to my mouth. She is glistening wet, and as I take that first lick of her with my tongue, I fall in love with her taste. She is tangy and sweet, smoky and clean. I find a rhythm with my tongue, exploring all of her crevices, letting my tongue into the recesses of her body. She is writhing and moaning beneath me, but I am lost in her.
I slide a finger and then two inside of her, pushing upwards on her g-spot. I am rewarded with her tightening her vaginal muscles on the invading digits. I use my tongue and my fingers on her, and the more she moans, and the more she sighs, and the more she trembles and shakes the wetter I get. My thighs are slick with my wetness, and the want in me is so deep and so bad, I ache with it. I can feel my own muscles tightening and releasing on themselves, begging for attention. I don't care. All I care about is pleasing her. I can feel her orgasm building. She's holding my head to her, moving her hips in time to my lips and tongue. I close my mouth over her, allowing my tongue to pay special attention to her clit, easing a third finger inside of her.
"Fuck," the word comes out harshly, half moan, half scream only to be lost in the strangled cries that follow as she finally comes in my mouth. I continue to lap at her through the orgasm, relishing the tightness as she closes around my fingers. I look up along the length of her body to see her breasts, neck and face flushed. Her head is thrown back in abandon and her eyes are closed. She has never looked so lovely to me.
As her orgasm subsides, I let my mouth travel up her body, but leave my fingers inside of her. I reach her mouth, letting my lips linger over hers. She traces my lips with her tongue, sucking on my bottom lip.
"Mmm," she says against my mouth. "I taste good on you."
"Yes, you most certainly do," I agree.
"Let me see," she says, reaching down and taking my wrists, pulling my hand away. She brings my fingers up to her lips and sucks on my index finger, letting her cheeks cave in with the pressure. Her mouth is hot and silky inside. Just like the rest of her, hot and silky. "Want some," she asks, holding my hand up to my mouth.
I let my middle finger slide between my lips, licking her essence, but watching her face as I do it. She is watching my mouth, unaware that I am watching her, and she licks her lips before leaning over to kiss me again. "I want to taste you," she says when she pulls away from the kiss, bringing me up off of my knees.
I think my panties hit the floor before she was finished speaking the words. Now it was my own skirt bunched up, forgotten, around my waist. She ate my pussy like she does everything else. Meticulously. Thoroughly. With passion. She noted my every response, for the most part not taking her eyes off of mine, closing them only every now and then to savor me. Over and over she brought me to the edge, only to pull back right before I went over. Over and over, she took me to that point, only to bring me back; drawing out the pleasure until I think I will go insane from it, it feels so good. "Please," I beg finally. "No more, baby, please."
She penetrates me, and eases her mouth off of me so that she can answer me. "But I've wanted you since that first time
I saw you on the train. I want it to last; I've waited for so long."
"Baby girl, please," I moan, lifting my hips off the couch and pushing into her hand.
Smiling, she takes me back into her mouth, closing her lips over my clitoris and sucking it into her mouth. As I start to tremble, she pushes up on my g-spot, and I have a second to wonder how a girl just barely out of college even knows where that is, before I explode in a mind-numbing orgasm. I bite down on the corner of a cushion to keep from screaming, and I feel my body shaking from head to toe.
I open my eyes to see her smiling down at me. I feel the corners of my lips lift in response. Slowly, she closes the distance between us, and lets her lips trace my mouth. Now it is the taste of me on her that we savor.
"Still think I should stop?" she asks.
And all I could do was say the same words I'd said to her earlier. "Please don't," as I pull her to me and kiss her again.
She laughed, a sultry siren's laugh, and hugged me close. "Please don't what?" she demanded.
"Please, don't ever stop," I answered. "You're not the only one that has wanted this since that morning on the train."
"I'm glad it happened," she said.
"Me too," I answer, and I am; I'm even happier that she initiated our lovemaking. I would have hated feeling like she felt pressured. This way, I know it was something she really wanted too.
"I just have one more question, Johann," she said.
"And what might that be," I ask her.
"Do you like me, Johann?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye.