Originally, I used the following fantasy as a the content of a PM, but was so satisfied with the result, I thought I might see if any other lovely ladies are intrigued by the thought:
On my first day in the office, I--a young, attractive, virulent 20-something--was instantly aware of you: a gorgeous older brunette, dressed provocatively and commandingly in a pinstripe business suit, your cleavage amplified by a handmade black corset just barely peeking out of your jacket; you paraded confidently around, exuding your power as executive, your voluptuous body swaying hypnotically as you moved....I could barely take my eyes off you, off your gorgeous feet, clad in white stockings and black stiletto pumps....but the impressive rock on your finger made it terribly obvious that you were taken. You seemed to enjoy this added power over your employees: the men (of all ages) could simply not stop staring at your body, stammering sheepishly, unable to meet your cool stare when you issued their tasks; the women were simply insanely jealous. The young blondes, whom you typically treated as barely more than indentured servants, believed themselves to be such sexpots, but in the wake of such an erotically powerful women, they were reduced to gossipy, bitchy little girls, wearing more and more revealing clothing, suggestively showing off so much that it became commonplace.
I simply could not resist your power, I imagined the naughty undergarments beneath your suit, I imagined you before me, I longed to see you arrayed in your corset, your gorgeous stockings, garter belt, heels, and nothing else....how I longed to worship your body.....
but you are my boss, and very married, and for now I must content myself with sneaking off to the restroom every few hours to hungrily masturbate, fantasizing about you.
I had no idea that you knew exactly what I was doing.
On my first day in the office, I--a young, attractive, virulent 20-something--was instantly aware of you: a gorgeous older brunette, dressed provocatively and commandingly in a pinstripe business suit, your cleavage amplified by a handmade black corset just barely peeking out of your jacket; you paraded confidently around, exuding your power as executive, your voluptuous body swaying hypnotically as you moved....I could barely take my eyes off you, off your gorgeous feet, clad in white stockings and black stiletto pumps....but the impressive rock on your finger made it terribly obvious that you were taken. You seemed to enjoy this added power over your employees: the men (of all ages) could simply not stop staring at your body, stammering sheepishly, unable to meet your cool stare when you issued their tasks; the women were simply insanely jealous. The young blondes, whom you typically treated as barely more than indentured servants, believed themselves to be such sexpots, but in the wake of such an erotically powerful women, they were reduced to gossipy, bitchy little girls, wearing more and more revealing clothing, suggestively showing off so much that it became commonplace.
I simply could not resist your power, I imagined the naughty undergarments beneath your suit, I imagined you before me, I longed to see you arrayed in your corset, your gorgeous stockings, garter belt, heels, and nothing else....how I longed to worship your body.....
but you are my boss, and very married, and for now I must content myself with sneaking off to the restroom every few hours to hungrily masturbate, fantasizing about you.
I had no idea that you knew exactly what I was doing.
