The Enveloping Requirement. Part One - Sex Stories

The Enveloping Requirement. Part One

... on the sofa in the office with her laptop, keeping a watchful eye on Chris as he battled the system glitch and misplaced files.

His mind wandered a few times about the previous hours’ events, and he occasionally had to speak to Miss Lexington about if she was happy where he was placing all the sorted files, and placing them in the correct places.

She then left to go to the living room to watch some important business news. A couple hours passed and Miss Lexington entered the office, handing him a glass of champagne, which he thanked her for. She then announced it was, “Time to stop.” With the autumn sunshine now but all gone from the sky outside, a dark blue colour was taking the evening sky.

“Stop?” Chris questioned and looked straight at her. She glared back at him with a stern face.

“But Miss, I haven’t finished them yet, and it’s getting late,” he said in a worried tone.

She stood with her right hand held out with her index finger up and abruptly spoke.

“You do not question me. If you want to ascend in this company, then you will do as I say, and at all times, do we understand?” she boomed.

“Yes, I am sorry, Miss Lexington. It won’t happen again,” said Chris, realising his place once again.

She then tilted her head, gave a pleasant smile, and ...

... walked out of the office. As she walked, she asked him to follow her into the living room.

Doing as she asked, he followed her into the living room, where she asked him to close the blinds. The carpet was so comfy under his feet and he looked at the large television. A heavily accented American woman on CNBC was talking about some new stock investment schemes.

Miss Lexington then told him to sit and drink his glass of champagne. He was going to ask her what was the intention of all this and where it would get him, but he thought better than to question her again.

He just sat, looking around the room and listening to the woman on CNBC. Then, after about fifteen minutes, Miss Lexington went to the kitchen and returned with a fresh bottle of champagne.

“Those Daily Telegraph newspapers on the end of the sofa,” she said, looking at him.

Chris looked to his left. He saw the pile of broadsheets, about two inches thick.

“Pick them up right now and follow me,” Miss Lexington strictly told him.

Doing as he was told, Chris picked up the pile and nervously followed her. Looking at them, he had a sneaking suspicion that he was going to find himself back in her bedroom, bound, wrapped, and ridden in these broadsheets. He was soon to find out.

To be continued...