The Temp - Sex Stories

The Temp

... this is Ms. Harper," I said, and as soon as the words came out of my mouth, I realized how ridiculous they sounded. My wife noticed also. "Hello. Nice to meet you. It's Veronica, right?" "Yes. Jack is always so formal at the office, but I think it's sweet that he calls me Ms. Harper. So many bosses have no respect for their secretaries. But Jack really knows the meaning of respect." I had no doubt that Diane was shocked by Veronica's attire, but she hid it admirably. I offered to pour drinks, and Diane said she had more preparations to tend to. We left Veronica in the living room and slipped into the kitchen. As I opened a bottle of wine, and Diane stood at the stove, her curiosity could no longer be contained. "So, does she dress that way at work?" I chuckled to indicate I shared her surprise at Veronica's attire. "No, it must just be her thing, you know, on a social level. "She's quite striking, Jack. You never mentioned that your temp looks like Claudia Schiffer. You're lucky that I know you don't choose your own secretary." "Funny. Well, you can rest comfortably knowing tomorrow is her last day." I gave Diane her glass of wine and headed back to Veronica. She was seated comfortably, leaning back in our leather recliner with the footrest extended. In addition to her natural beauty, something about her leather outfit in the leather chair, contrasted by her bare thighs, was especially sexy, and as I handed her the glass, I was already hard. "Show me your collar." ...

... "Veronica. Ms. Harper, please" I whispered. "I told you I wanted to have fun, Jack. And making you squirm for me is fun. Now show me you're still wearing my name tag." I glanced quickly at the kitchen door, and then stepped back into the hallway, where Veronica could still see me, but where I'd be out of my wife's sightline if she should suddenly walk in. I undid my belt, lowered my pants, and exposed myself, property tag and all, to Veronica. "Very good, Jack. Now come remove my boots and suck on my toes." My nightmare was intensifying. Veronica knew I couldn't refuse her commands, because doing so would encourage her to reveal everything to Diane. Yet she was putting me at tremendous risk by demanding I submit to her in my own home, virtually in my wife's presence. "And don't whine each time I tell you to do something, because I'm not going to give you a second chance. Now, come and serve your Mistress, slave." And that was it. She had summed up my situation in one tidy sentence. Veronica knew I was going to serve her as she ordered me to. Though I loved only my wife, at the same time I was Veronica's slave, and my near bursting cock gave me no hope that I could refuse her. I hurried to Veronica, removed her boots, and knelt down with my back to the kitchen. I lowered my head and sucked her toes, knowing that any second Diane could walk in. The scent of her feet made my head swoon, and was almost enough to transport me away from the horrifying reality of the scene. But not quite. I ...