Alice Wilson's Afternoon Fantasies

Nearly every workday Alice Wilson securely locks her office door to spend the better part of an hour masturbating. Alice clears her afternoon calendar of meetings -- blocked out and labelled 'New Research Projects' -- and she is copious to complete the bulk of her work projects in the morning anyway. Reports, financial ledgers, sales projections: the other Senior Officers admire Alice Wilson's strong work ethic.

"You can always count on Alice to deliver the goods," they frequently say.

Alice's workdays begin when the alarm clock sitting on her bedside table chimes at precisely 5:00 AM. Disrobing from her nightwear to take a moderate shower, both in time and temperature, the Business Executive changes into an outfit appropriate for a woman her age -- a colour-coordinated outfit that she meticulously lays out the night before. Alice's closet is full of modest blouses, as well as dresses and skirts with 'below-the knee' hemlines, lest the naughty imaginations of randy lads get the best of them.

Lads are always leering at her. She knows this for a fact.

"I can scarcely leave the house without every lad in the neighbourhood undressing me with his eyes. Their lustful gaze starts at my high heels then moves up my ankles to my calves." For certain, Alice likes wearing high heels. She enjoys the confidence that comes with towering above any situation.

High heels also give her walk a distinctive womanly quality.

"Unwanted male attention -- particularly from younger men -- is a problem everywhere I go. I am a businesswoman and I comport myself properly. I also have a keen fashion sense. The hemlines are long, and my clothing choices are quite conservative. I am a proper woman. Can I help it that high heels stir a young man's passion?"

Entering the office building, Alice clickety-clacks her way across the marble floor to the lift, where she waits. The floor was just polished, so she keeps her feet tightly held together. "Good-looking lads would love to peek up my skirt," she is certain, "and the reflection from this floor would give them just that opportunity."

Alice elected to wear red satin underwear today, which of course was included with the rest of the outfit she laid out the night before. "Bright coloured panties drive the lads crazy," she affirms.

Once safely seated behind her desk, Alice's mind is put at ease. She crosses her legs and begins reviewing this month's financial ledger, then moves to sales projections. There is correspondence awaiting her, telephone calls to make, and an executive meeting to attend. A high-level report is due by the end of the week -- but Alice completed it two days early. Only occasionally does she peer out the office blinds to the world below.

So many handsome young lads are bustling about in the city -- and how her imagination wanders. "They are half my age," she reflects, as she uncrosses her legs then recrosses them the other way.

When it becomes time to work on the New Research Project, Alice securely locks the office door and wheels her chair to the window. She opens her knees slightly. "So many young men down there who would love to look up my skirt -- good-looking lads who would also love to rub my pussy and squeeze my breasts."

Alice's mind wanders to the pub near the university. Closing her eyes, she opens her knees a little more and gently lifts her skirt. Her high heels are now dug into the carpet.

The lad is tall and broad-shouldered. He must be in his early twenties. He gathers all his courage to rise from his seat and approach me. He's been staring at my ankles all night -- just like all the university lads do. His eyes are light-blue and piercing. I know what he wants to do to me: he imagines rubbing my pussy and squeezing my breasts.

"But I'm a proper woman and I can't let you do these things to me."

He admits that he can't stop staring at me. Or rubbing my pussy. Or squeezing my breasts. He's a good-looking lad maybe half my age. A good-looking lad who has to have me. He has to have me. He can't stop rubbing my pussy or squeezing my breasts.

"But I am a proper woman. You have to stop touching me like this."

Alice breaks away from his embrace, and summarily leaves the pub. She is then approached by another lad, equally handsome, who joins her on a park bench. Too timid to sit next to her, this second lad sits on the far end of the park bench. He stumbles with his words.

Like the first lad, this second lad can't stop staring at Alice's ankles.

The second lad tells Alice that he 'dreams about her' and that this nasty habit has to stop. He is wearing a locking chastity cage, he tells her, and hands Alice the key. It is the only key in existence; she alone now controls his sexual release. It is the only way to stop him from touching himself.

"The touching has to stop. I am a proper woman, and the touching has to stop."

The second lad is tossing and turning in anguish. He wants sexual release more than anything, and only Alice can keep this from happening. He's such a good-looking lad, like the first lad.

"The touching has to stop. It has to stop."

Then a third lad appears, alone with Alice in a darkened room. Trying to peer up her skirt, the young man confesses that a properly dressed woman like Alice 'stirs his passions.' He starts to pleasure himself and asks if it is alright to do so with Alice watching him.

Alice's high heels dig in deeper than ever.

Young men like you are always leering at me. This I know for a fact. Lads your age can't help it. You are all so handsome, and you can't stop touching yourselves. You can't stop. You want sexual release more than anything and you can't stop. It's so close. It's so close and you can't stop.

The first two lads then reappear with the third, who are now all staring at Alice's heels and ankles. Alice's heels begin to elongate, growing to enormous proportions. They elevate her stature and raise up her once-modest hemline -- which is now at the boys' eye level. Alice would never wear a skirt like this. Never ever.

Towering over randy boys is empowering. They are all looking up her skirt enjoying an unobstructed view of her panties, like they would do for a naughty woman.

Alice can't stop rubbing her pussy and squeezing her breasts. A damp spot develops on her bright red satin panties. Sinking into her chair, she bites her lower lip and throws back her head.

"I am a proper woman, and it's so close. I can't stop. I can't stop."

The lads continue begging and finally Alice acquiesces to their requests. She arches her back and holds her breath -- then boldly exhales.

"Tomorrow I'll wear shiny aqua coloured panties, but you naughty lads mustn't try to peek up my skirt again."

Alice's thoughts then return to business responsibilities. She switches out her soiled panties for a fresh pair, straightens her clothing and fixes her makeup. Unlocking her office door, Alice sashays down the hallway to the board room where she will present the latest financial report to the other Senior Officers.

"You can always count on Alice to deliver the goods," they frequently say.