The Temp - Sex Stories

The Temp

"Mr. Reynolds?" I felt a sudden quickening of my heartbeat, as I realized my eyes had become fixated on her legs. My mind frantically searched for a way to escape the embarrassing moment, but no clever idea surfaced. Pretending that my thoughts had no relation to where my gaze had settled, I brought my hand to my chin in a clumsy attempt to strike a thoughtful pose. "I'm sorry, Veronica. I... I was just considering whether I was forgetting anything. Did you have any questions you wanted to ask me?" My regular secretary had been sent to a week-long training session to learn our new operations software system, and Veronica was my assigned temp. Her perfect body, now seated in the overstuffed chair facing my desk, was an embarrassing distraction, and each time she crossed her legs, her short dress hiked slightly higher up her exquisite thighs. Veronica's beauty was so striking, I found myself unable to concentrate on anything else while in her presence, and my normally focused, level-headed mind was suddenly reduced to that of a horny schoolboy staring at the picture of a Playboy model. Our eyes were locked on each other's as I waited for her reply. Thankfully, my desk concealed my raging hard on, but in that frozen moment, I suspected she knew exactly what my mind was focused on. How pitiful that a 45-year old married man should do such a poor job of concealing his lust for this 27-year old beauty. Her stare was intense. Was she going to respond to my question? Was she trying ...

... to read my mind? Was she waiting for me to apologize for staring at her legs? Or was she sending me a message that I ought to be ashamed of myself for fantasizing about her? My discomfort was punctuated by a knot in my stomach, and it occurred to me that, ironically, this young woman seemed to be in complete control, not nervous or uncomfortable at all. One thing I certainly didn't anticipate was that she could see something in me I had never seen in myself. "Mr. Reynolds, could I ask you a big favor? I have this sudden pain at the base of my neck. Would you mind very much massaging it for a moment?" It was an innocent question, asked sincerely, and I immediately felt a sense of relief. "Oh, of course. I don't mind at all." I spun my chair around before I stood up, so that I could discreetly adjust myself and appear presentable. Then I walked around behind her, and gently placed my hands on her neck and shoulders, kneading her soft skin. I inhaled her intoxicating perfume as I gazed down over her shoulders, an angle that revealed most of her perfect breasts. I felt a renewed surge of bl**d in my already aching cock. "Does that help?" I managed to ask. "Yes, that's perfect," she purred. I wondered how long I could continue to do this without it becoming unseemly. Or was it unseemly already? She had been twirling her pen slowly between three fingers, when it slipped out of her hand, and fell to the floor by her left foot. Instinctively, I moved around the chair to her left, and ...