Office Affair

"Like what, baby girl?"

"You know, kind of almost raped," she purrs. "Like, I've teased the guy so much, and he wants me so bad, that he just goes bananas when I let him have me. Yeah, I love that."

I grin at her. "Well I loved it too, baby. All the cock-teasing made the fuck better. Shit, if I hadn't got to have you, though, I'd have probably gone crazy."

Emma giggles. "I know. Lucky boy, aren't you? Most guys I just tease and I never let them fuck me. I torture the poor things!"

"Poor bastards," I chuckle. "God, Em, did you see how those waiters were looking at you? Talk about drooling!"

Emma did notice, of course. "Mmm. Wishing they were you, honey, weren't they? Wishing they were my boyfriend."

I really love hearing Em say that - 'boyfriend'. Oh yeah!

"And Ken ... old Fatty Longbottom ... he's got the horn for you, babe, no question," I grin.

This makes Emma giggle even more. "Oh my god, what a thought. Yuck! Hey, honey, just thinking, I'll be wearing a mini-skirt to the office tomorrow ..."

"Sounds sexy, baby. Can't wait!"

"Yeah, I know. And like you say, Fatso's got the total hots for me, so should I ... you know ... start teasing him a little?"

"Or a lot," I suggest -- my dick is hardening again.

Emma's noticed and her hand snakes between my legs, starts fondling. "Mmm ... see my big boy likes the sound of that. He likes the idea of his sexy girlfriend wearing a tiny little mini-skirt to the office and teasing poor, frustrated old Ken. Likes the idea of the hot-looking girl who he's getting to fuck just deliberately tantalising and tormenting this other poor unfortunate chap."

She's right. I do. Old Ken is totally sex-starved, I'm pretty sure of that, so imagine how a luscious little tease like Emma could make him suffer if she feels like it. And it appears she DOES feel like it. "I'll drive the poor thing crazy, honey, should I?" she giggles.

"Baby, you can cock-tease him as much as you want," I grin. "You have my absolute 'superboss' permission."

Gee, I can hardly wait for tomorrow!

There's still some more 'tonight' left, however. Em wants me to go down on her and so I do. I lick her to another orgasm. Then we fuck again -- long and slow, making love, both of us properly naked.

Way past midnight now and time to go to sleep. Before we do I make a couple of calls. First I call reception and order breakfast for two in the room at 7:45 tomorrow. Then I call Ken and I ask him how he's doing with the 'Empress's essay'. "Um, okay," he mumbles.

"Good, well keep at it," I chiv him. "We meet in the lobby at 6:30 tomorrow morning, Kenny boy, okay? Yeah, I know, very early start but we have tons to do. Yeah, see you then ... Hang on, Fatso, the Empress wants a quick word."

I pass the phone to the corpsing Emma. "Just to say goodnight, Fatty, really," she says, then giggles at whatever Ken says before giving me back the phone.

"Oh god, Mark, he actually said 'Goodnight, Empress'!"

"You're such a bitch, Em."

"What about you?" she grins. "Meet at 6:30? ... you bastard!"

"Yeah - let's keep old Kenneth on his toes, baby, shall we?"

She laughs.

Lights out - we snuggle up and drift off to sleep.

*

6:30 Tuesday morning finds a certain chubby loser by the name of Kenneth Longbottom sitting anxiously in the hotel lobby clutching a large sheaf of handwritten papers. He looks rough -- unsurprising since he's had less than an hour's sleep (didn't finish his essay for the Empress till god knows when). His poor empty belly is complaining furiously about no food since Sunday evening.

God, he hopes he gets to eat today! Maybe if Empress Emma likes his essay she'll let him have something?

She'll be down soon, her and Mark, so let's see. He's put a lot of work into the essay so ... well let's see what the Empress thinks.

The same time (6:30) finds this other guy -- lucky bastard called Mark Reynolds -- lying naked in bed with the ravishingly beautiful (and equally naked) Emma Mills. He's just woken up after a long, refreshing 'post-fuck' sleep -- he's still semi-dozing really -- and the first sensation to greet him, welcome him to the new day, is Emma softly fingering his cock.

"Mmm ... that's nice, babe," I purr.

Understatement. It's heavenly.

I nibble her ears, kiss her neck, fondle her breasts, stroke her pussy ... show her I'm interested. She stretches like the cat that got the cream. "What time are they bringing breakfast, honey?"

"Not till 7:45," I grin. "Plenty of time."

For some morning fucking is what I'm meaning but Em has other ideas. "Would you like a nice blowjob, honey?" she smiles.

That's a yes.

I get one. Em gives me a long, deliciously sexy blowjob -- best I've ever had. She's a million times better than my girlfriend at it. Fact, she's just a lot better than my girlfriend, full stop. I tell Emma this -- that she's tons prettier and sexier than my girlfriend - and she absolutely adores hearing it. Really turns her on. "And smarter too?" she fishes.

"Yeah, baby, a whole lot smarter. You're a very bright girl as well as sexy and extremely beautiful and fucking dynamite in bed."

Do I feel guilty at this point? At lying in bed with Emma Mills and having sex with her, telling the hot little bitch how desirable she is etc etc, when I've got a girlfriend back home? Not really. Any guy who gets the chance with Em is gonna go for it, believe me.

I don't feel bad about the thought of poor Kenny down there in the lobby waiting for us either. No, all this does is make me feel even better. Thinking about different ways to persecute the helpless fat fucker during the rest of the week definitely adds to the pleasure of lying back and being sucked off by Em. As if it needed any adding to.

But yeah, I'm looking forward to it. We have Vickers coming out on Wednesday, of course, but other than that the poor bastard is all ours. Or all Emma's, really. I've decided to mainly get off on watching HER torment Kenny. She's such a cruel bitch, I know it'll be hilarious. Me, I'll just pitch in as and when the mood takes me.

There's a knock on the door -- breakfast! "Come," I say. Guy wheels it in. It's one of the ogling waiters from last night. We don't bother getting up. "Just over here on trays," I tell him.

He passes us each a tray and the sheet falls away from Emma's luscious breasts as she sits up to take hers. "Thank you, that looks yummy!" she grins at this poor guy, making no attempt to cover up. Girl must be the biggest cock-tease on the planet!

We're halfway through our scrambled eggs when my phone goes. It's you know who. "Hey, Kenny! What? Oh yeah, well me and the Empress are still having breakfast. Be down in a while. Yeah, you just wait there for us."

Poor old Kenny.

*

Em's Tuesday outfit doesn't disappoint. The skirt is short, her top skimpy. She has a touch more make-up on today (heeled, open-toe sandals show off her carefully painted nails) and her hair is down. She looks hot. Sexy.

Smells great too -- she has some really nice perfume on.

We stroll across the lobby to where Ken's been sat waiting for well over two hours. "Fatty Longbottom!" Emma exclaims, grinning down at him. She tickles his chin and gives his nose a tweak. "How's my chubby little assistant this morning?"

"Um, okay, Emma," he mumbles. He's looking at her legs. So am I, to be fair, and so is every other man in the vicinity. God, they do look fabulous in a mini-skirt!

"Empress ... I'm your Empress from now on, yes?"

"Y-Y-Yes, Empress."

What a scream!

"Gimme your essay," Emma snaps and she sits down next to him on the lobby sofa -- sits extremely close, presses her thigh against his. Ken's very affected by her proximity, I can tell. Poor guy. I sit on Ken's other side and I also squeeze in really close - it's a Longbottom sandwich.

While Em flicks through his essay (chuckling periodically as she reads it) I drape my arm around the back of the sofa, behind Ken, and kind of force him into a squashed and uncomfortable bent-forward position, his belly hanging over his waistband. I can't resist grabbing a handful and pinching it. "Fuck, Kenny boy, Em's right, you know. Really could do with losing some of this flab." He just moans a bit. Embarrassed. There's other people around and one or two are sniggering.

Em's finished reading. "Very good, Fatty," she announces, handing it back to him. "A few spelling mistakes, however. I'll have to punish him for those, Mark, won't I?"

"Yeah, babe, definitely," I grin. "Not here, though. C'mon, Em, let's get going."

We go to the office and we work extremely hard all morning -- with Vickers coming tomorrow I'm keen for us to show progress. Ken works especially hard. Em's a real slave-driver, has him running around like mad, photocopying, finding invoices, filing, making her coffee etc etc. He never gets to sit down, it's just one thing after another.

Well, he does get to sit down at one point. Emma has a large pile of invoices on her desk -- there's hundreds of them -- and she needs them filing away. Job for Ken, obviously. She crooks a finger, summons him. "C'mere, Fatty."

Ken breaks off his photocopying and trots over. "Yes, Empress?" It's incredible how well-trained she has him!

"I want these sorted by date and then filed in there," pointing at the pile of invoices and a large, empty file.

"Okay, Empress."

Ken's intending to transfer the stuff off Emma's desk and take it to the table in the middle. But no, the Empress doesn't want that. "Do it on the floor," she orders, and she sweeps the pile of invoices off her desk onto the carpet by her feet. Then she tosses the empty file on top. "This is your punishment for all those spelling mistakes. Didn't think I'd forgotten, Fatty, did you?"

"N-N-No, Empress," mumbles Kenny. Silly sod. And down he gets, spends the next hour or so grovelling around Emma's feet trying to sort and file these invoices.

Meanwhile the mini-skirted Emma makes things even more difficult -- she teases poor Ken with her bare, sexy legs (his position means he can't help but stare at them) and she keeps messing up the papers with her feet so it's hard for him to do what he's meant to be doing. It's hilarious. Poor guy.

Takes us to lunch and Em and I decide to go back to the hotel for this. Ken's not invited (I lock him in when we go) but Emma promises to bring him something since he's worked hard and she's "quite pleased" with him. She picks up the file he's just finally managed to put together and takes it over to the table. Then she opens it up and empties the invoices out, messes them across the table. "Do it again, Fatty, okay?" she tells him. "No lunch if you haven't finished when Mark and I get back."

He goes and sits down, ready to commence. "Right, so we'll catch you later," Emma says, picking up her handbag.

"See you, Kenny boy," I chuckle and I make Emma laugh by rapping the top of his head with my knuckles on our way out. Do it hard so his eyes water.

We have a nice lunch. It takes a couple of hours (we also pop up to our room for a fuck) but that's fine because the progress this morning means we're ahead of the game. I tell Em this (we've just finished fucking at the time) and she looks pleased. "So, shall we devote the afternoon to torturing Fatso?" she giggles.

"Yeah, babe, let's do that," I chuckle.

First thing Ken does when we walk in is point proudly at the file of invoices -- he's completed the task. Second thing is he looks at the bag Emma's carrying. It's from the local sandwich place and it appears she's kept her promise to bring him lunch.

She holds it up. "Here we go. File is ready, I see, so we know what that means, don't we? Lunch for my hungry assistant," she smiles and she tosses the bag onto the table where he's sitting. "I bet you ARE hungry too, aren't you?" she grins.

"Yes, Empress -- v-v-very h-h-hungry." Ken's eyeing up this bag. Poor guy is famished!

Emma sits opposite Ken and points at the bag "Okay, what are you waiting for? Go for it!"

He does. Kenny just falls on this bag and empties out the contents - what has the Empress got him for lunch, he wonders? Inside the bag is another bag. And inside that one, yet another. Then another. Oh god, is there anything tangible in here?

Yes! He finally gets his hands on it. She's brought him a tomato -- quite a small one. Emma's in hysterics. Me too. I'm watching this from my desk and it's a scream. "I thought we'd stick to the same as yesterday," Emma splutters. "Seeing as you liked that so much." She makes the poor bastard thank her for bringing him lunch.

Em orders him to give her the tomato, then he has to crawl to her and beg for it.

She makes him kneel and worship her. "Please, my divine, beautiful Empress. Please please PLEASE allow your humble and hungry servant, Fatty, to have his tomato," ... stuff like that. Oh god.

She slips her sandals off, puts her feet up on the table, and he has to smooch her toes one by one. "That's right, Fatso, that's a good boy, kiss my little tutsies," she giggles.

"Okay, Fatty, open wide," she says, finally, showing him the tomato, and she reaches forward and casually stuffs the whole thing into his mouth. He chokes and sputters but, yes, he does manage to get it all down in the end.

So that was lunch.

*

We settle in for the afternoon. Emma has no actual work for Ken, she tells him, so what he has to do is stand in the middle of the room with his hands behind his back. We ignore him for a while, get on with things, until he coughs for attention. "Er ... Empress?"

She looks up. "What?"

"I n-n-need the b-b-bathroom." Oh jesus christ, he's asking her if he can have a pee!

Emma giggles but doesn't reply. "P-P-Please, Empress. I'm d-d-desperate," he pleads. Well I guess it is a while since he's been allowed to leave the room.

Em grins and turns to me. "What do you think, Mark? Should we let him?"

"You're the boss, baby."

"Mmm, I am, aren't I?" she muses. She gets up and walks over to Ken. She laughs at him, tickles his chin, pinches his cheek, then informs him he can't go to the bathroom till he's back at the hotel. "I know, you can have a nice glass of water, though," she announces and she goes and pours one and gives it to him. "Here, Fatty. Down in one." It's a pint glass and it's full.

He drinks it and she gets him a second pint, forces him to drink this too. Plus a third.

Then we sit back and watch him suffer. Poor guy's bursting! He's sweating and squirming and fidgeting around like nobody's business. Emma makes things worse by going over a couple of times and poking and prodding him with her finger. Evil bitch does it right where his bladder his. "P-P-Please ... Empress Emma ... d-d-don't," he whimpers, but she just giggles and carries on.

"Kenny, I need to take a leak," I announce at one point. "Don't mind if I go do that, do you?"

"N-N-No, M-M-Mark, sir,"

"Why don't you take Fatso with you, honey?" giggles Em. "He can watch you have a pee." Brutal!

So I do. I take Kenny with me (it's just the two of us in the gents) and he has to stand next to me while I pee. "Argh, fucking relief!" I groan. Can't resist spraying a bit on him. When I've finished I tell Ken to get his dick out and have a 'pretend piss' -- even make him do the noises. Then I make the poor bastard put it away and zip up and follow me back to the room.

Emma pisses herself when I tell her what I did. As for Ken, he's close to literally doing that. It's just a matter of time.

I kick his arse a couple of times (which makes Em laugh) and sit back down.

"Oh my god, Mark, look!" exclaims Emma, a few minutes later. It's happened. Poor Kenny has wet his pants. There's a dark and obvious stain on the front of his trousers.

"Dirty little bastard," I say.

"S-S-Sorry, Mark." Ken's staring at the floor. Poor guy is utterly mortified.

"Sorry, 'sir', you mean, Lardy boy, don't you?"

"S-S-Sorry, s-s-sir."

"Better. And your boss? ... Em? ... You gonna apologise to the divine Empress Emma for peeing your pants?"

"S-S-Sorry for p-p-peeing my p-p-pants, divine Empress Emma."

Oh my god, can you believe this? Guy's a wretch.

I grin at Emma. "He's a dirty bastard, Em, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is. And he's been staring at my legs today, honey, did I tell you that?"

"You're joking!" I throw Ken a mean and disapproving look. Poor guy is SO scared of me!

Emma continues, "Yeah, he has. Been really ogling. Must be this mini-skirt I'm wearing, I suppose." At which point she gets up and perches cross-legged on her desk, giving Ken a teasing eyeful. "Look, he's doing it again now," she giggles.

"God, he fucking is too," I say, looking daggers at him. "Still, you have got great legs, baby, and that skirt is pretty ... err ... short."

Emma grins over at Ken. "Do you like my legs then, Fatty? Do they look nice in a mini-skirt?" He sort of nods. Emma laughs at him. "Aw, you poor, frustrated thing! And here's me flaunting it in front of you. Such a tease, aren't I? The divine Empress is being cruel, isn't she? ... being a wicked temptress ... she shouldn't torment her little Fatty like this, should she?" She crooks her finger at him. "Come over here."

Ken shuffles over to stand in front of where Emma is sat on her desk. Em turns to me. "Wanna join in, honey?" she grins and indicates for me to come and sit next to her.

"Bet he's got a hard-on, Marky, don't you reckon?"

"Yeah, Em, I bet he has."

"Should we take a look?"

"Yes, baby, let's."

"Drop your dirty wet trousers, Fatso," orders Emma. Poor guy has to do it. "And your dirty wet underpants," she snaps. He's now stood there with his pants round his ankles and his cock on full display. It's not a big cock, quite the opposite, but he's got an erection alright.

Emma, giggling, extends a foot and toys with his little hard-on. "You like that the poor guy's all turned on, babe, don't you?" I chuckle.

"Well, you know, a girl likes to be appreciated."

"You're just a big cock-teaser, Em!"

"Or maybe a LITTLE cock-teaser," Emma grins, nodding at Ken's rather less than impressive member. "So, does Fatty like drooling at my sexy legs?" she taunts him. "I think he does, looking at that hard little dick!" Kenny half nods. "Tell me. I wanna hear! And kneel down. I'm an Empress, remember?"

Ken kneels in front of us. "I l-l-like drooling at your sexy legs, Empress."

I lean forward and slap him. Slap him hard around the chops. "Don't you dare say that to my girlfriend!" I snarl. "Little perv." Ken is fighting back tears. "I'll ask you again, Kenny boy, and think very carefully before you answer this time. Do you like looking at the Empress' sexy legs?"

He shakes his head. He's worked it out -- clever chap. Or maybe not so clever because Emma gets all outraged. "What? You don't like my sexy legs?" She slaps him around the chops. "Let's try again, Fatso. Do you like looking at my gorgeous, sexy legs?"

Nothing.

"Tell me!"

"I l-l-like looking at your gorgeous, sexy legs, Empress."

Emma glances at me, gleam in her eye. "Mark, honey, Fatso is still saying he likes ogling my legs."

I lose my temper slightly - raise my voice. "You fucking perv!"

"S-S-Sorry, s-s-sir." Oh my god. Amazing.

I slap his face around again. Very hard this time. His cheeks are glowing red and he's sniffling. "Bet you'd love to see her boobs too, wouldn't you, you little pervert?"

"N-N-No, s-s-sir."

Emma is upset. "What? You DON'T want to see my boobs? Why not, Fatty? Don't you think I've got nice tits?" She slaps him, then pulls her top up, shows Ken her breasts. "Look, Fatty, aren't they sexy?" she teases. "You don't want me to put them away, do you?"

"N-N-No, Empress," he says -- obvious he's telling the truth because his little cock is hard again.