The Ring Corrupts Ch. 07 - Annette Pt. 02

"I mean... No thanks... anyway there it goes," I told her, as I finally wrenched it off.

The sexual feelings dissipated, but I remained concerned at the rings unwillingness to come off my finger.

Vanessa had stood watching this exchange and had a perplexed look on her face.

"Does she suspect there is something about the ring?" I thought, becoming somewhat paranoid. "I need to deal with this. Let's get rid of her for a week or two."

"You're looking very wound up Vanessa, and that's no way to be in your final few years with the Company," I said, noting her being close to retirement. "Take a week or so off. 10 days if you want. We'll cope, won't we Emily?"

"Yeah for sure. Take some time off Vanessa."

"Ok, that would be nice, thank you Rob."

"Good! That's settled. By the time you return I'll definitely have dealt with Ms. Bond for you."

So right there was my issue, at that moment in time. This battle for my soul was continually reemerging as the dominant theme running through my life. When I was inconvenienced by these sexual urges I felt uncomfortable with, the ring came off. When I needed it, the ring just as quickly went back on. I knew I was like playing with fire, I wasn't motivated to stop. Come Thursday lunchtime, I was more than happy to approach the office of Annette Bond with the ring firmly in place on my finger.

Poor Paula looked stricken with guilt, when I was shown through to her office.

"Settle down Paula," I told her, as the boy closed the door. "I'm here to see your boss, not you. I'm in the appointment book for 12.30."

"I know! Look about the other day..." she said, appearing to want to absolve her guilt.

"No problem there. I have my appointment and you have your pleasant memories. All I need you to do now is show me into her office. After a few minutes I'll call out that you can go to lunch. I suggest you take up that offer and have a well-earned break.

"Oh! OK!" she exclaimed, taken aback.

"Now shall we go through," I said, indicating Annette's door.

"Mr. Dean to see you Annette," Paula called, as she opened the door.

"What! I told you..." Paula's boss spluttered, as she looked to get up from the sofa, where she was parked with her feet up.

I followed Paula through, delighted to find Annette Bond clearly taken unawares. She had shoes off, red hair untethered and the top buttons on her blouse loosened. Not at all how she wanted the world to see her.

"Thanks Paula, you can go now," I said, which saw Paula turn and make a hasty exit, closing the door as she left.

"No; she can't go. Paula, get back in here," Annette shouted, struggling to don her shoes.

"But we don't want her in here Annette. You haven't kept your word, so I wish to resume the 'desk top diplomacy' we undertook at our previous meeting. We certainly can't have Paula in here while we do that. Can we?"

"I certainly do not wish to talk about that. I'm at lunch, and that's when I recharge my batteries. I don't have time to talk with you at all," she said, striding toward the door.

Today the skirt was tartan and of similar length to our first meeting. Her stockings were green tartan and the matching green shoes were bowless. Two blouse buttons remained undone, displaying a hint of freckle, but little more. However, what I enjoyed most was that normally prim and proper Ms. Bond had her straight red hair loose, hanging down beyond her shoulders. My cock roared to life. As she went to walk by me to open the door, I grabbed her arm with my ringless hand.

"Annette, please," I said with a wide grin. "We had such a nice intimate time when we last met. Don't throw me out so abruptly."

"The intimate time you refer to was a huge mistake on my part, and it won't be repeated," she barked, wrenching her arm away and looking daggers at me. "I'm in a longtime relationship Mr. Dean. With someone I love dearly. Now please...,"

"That will be Ben," I announced, smiling. "I've heard of Ben O'Connell; a Vice President at Tufnell and Armstrong."

"Oh, so you know of Ben. Well you'll know that not only is he a Vice President at Tufnell's, he's also young, six foot three inches tall, 230 pounds and very fit. He would not like to know his fiancé' was being harassed by a nobody."

"Well he sounds a very impressive man, Annette," I agreed, ignoring her putdown. "However, the problem with big Ben is that his cock doesn't fill you the way mine did right there, bent over that table, just one week ago."

I saw the memory flit across her eyes. She remembered my fingers and cock inside her alright. Bringing her two orgasms, the likes of which she'd never previously experienced. But this woman was strong willed. I watched her eyes harden, as she fought to overcome those memories.

"As I said. You'll need to go."

I raised a hand, as if resigned to leaving, while she again reached for the door handle. This called for reinforcements, and fortunately I had them in spades. Placing my ring hand firmly around her thin, pale forearm, I prevented her from reaching the handle.

"Mister Dean!" she gasped, turning her head, genuine outrage in her eyes, just before the sensations swept through her.

I never tired of watching this initial reaction, when the ring's power first surged through the woman. The puzzlement; the doubt; the indecision; the quickening of breath. It was all there this time. The angry, in charge Annette Bond now found herself full of conflicting emotions, trying to interpret physical feelings she hadn't welcomed. She stood upright, my hand still gripping her arm.

"I... I..." she stuttered, still wanting to be affronted, her body now interfering.

I released her arm, placed my finger over my lips and giving her a paternal look, moved to the door myself. I opened it just a fraction and called through.

"Ms. Bond says we won't be needing you Paula. You can go to lunch for an hour," I called, immediately shutting the door, just as a muffled reply came back.

"No! We never go out to lunch in my office. She has it at her desk. She..." Annette Bond garbled, making one final effort to defy the rings power.

"Quiet!" I ordered, placing hands on each bare arm and pulling her in close. "It's best she's gone. We have business to attend too, and it could get quite loud."

"Oh God no. This is not right. I'm engaged to be married. I love him. I don't understand..."

"Ssshhh!" I quietened her, bringing my fingers to stroke her cheek. "No one will know Annette. Your engaged, I'm married, Paula's gone to lunch. This will remain our secret."

"Yes but," she continued, "...it's not what I do any longer. I'm engaged..."

I'd had enough of her guilt trip and moved my lips firmly onto hers. Despite her conflicting emotions, she didn't hesitate to accept. I pressed firmly into her slim body. When I felt her move against me I knew any remaining reluctance was melting away. I slipped a hand down and massaged a butt cheek through her skirt, while our kiss lingered on. Eventually, I stepped back.

"You enjoyed what we did the other day?" I said, moving fingers to release buttons on her blouse, as she stood passively.

"Yes! Oh god yes. It felt amazing. I couldn't get it out of my mind," she admitted breathlessly, as I pushed my hand through the gap.

Her expensive, green bra had lace at the top of the cup, and I ran the ring just under this.

"You've been thinking of what we did, when you make love to Ben?" I asked, gently slipping fingers lower to find a pert little nipple.

"Yes!" she said, drawing in a breath, before dropping her head in shame.

"Of course you did," I crooned, patronizingly, before withdrawing my hand and resting it on her shoulder. "Now unbutton the rest of your blouse Annette. I didn't get to see your tits the other day."

I knew I was laying it on thick, and for a brief second a flash of defiance returned to her face. However, my hand remained on her skin and any resistance dissipated in a second. She brought hands to the buttons.

"That's a good girl," I crooned, lifted her head and resumed kissing her.

As we kissed I moved a hand to find she had fully complied. I explored her bra covered breasts. They were small, but ample for a slim frame. She moaned into my mouth. I moved to slip off the blouse, dropping it to the floor, before breaking our kiss.

"The other day you loved the feel of my cock...the look of my cock. Didn't you?"

"Mmmmm," she agreed, nodding her head.

"Get it out then!" I ordered, which had her unbuckling my belt and lowering my fly.

"Hmmm," she hummed softly, pulling the clothing clear, admiring what she found, before gently taking it in hand.

"It feel good?" I asked, slipping a bra strap off her shoulder

"Mmmm, yes," she agreed, continuing to admire my cock, while deftly using her fingers on me.

"Yes...this young woman has stroked a cock or two," I thought. "Stroked her way through one promotion after another, until she hit the jackpot in big Ben."

"Does Ben's cock feel this good?" I whispered in her ear, pushing down the bra cup, before bending to kiss around her pink nipple.

"No!" she gasped, placing a hand on the back of my head.

I unclipped her bra, slipped it off and began to move my mouth from breast to breast. They were small, but perfectly formed. Had I wanted to I was certain I could have got her off, merely by continuing to tease her nipples. If it had been another woman I'd have enjoyed doing this. However, Annette Bond was different. She viewed herself as superior to almost everyone.

"Ms. Bond can't get everything she wants when she wants it. She needs to wait awhile, before experiencing the pleasure she's now craving," I thought.

I continued to toy with her breasts, running the ring liberally across them, plucking at her nipples; now hard as pebbles. Soon she stopped stroking and merely gripped my cock; her breathing indicating the imminent arrival of the delight she most desired.

Abruptly, I stopped my movements, released her and stepped back. Annette stood a foot away, panting; fingers still wrapped around my shaft. Her face was a mix of emotions at having been denied the pleasure she so desired.

I took her hand and drew it off my cock. Then, leaving her standing, I walked around her desk and sat down in her chair.

"Robert!" she exclaimed.

"I want you completely naked. Stand there where you had me stand the first time I came to your office and take all your clothes off," I ordered, causing her to screw her face up in annoyance. "Do as I say!"

Despite her overwhelming need; being both denied and spoken to in this manner did not sit well with Ms. Bond. She was annoyed and didn't attempt to hide it. I said nothing, letting her stew while I kicked off my shoes, pulled my trousers, underpants and shirt off. I pushed her chair back so she could view me; fully naked. My erect cock stood proudly on display and she was fixated upon it. I watched the defiance evaporate, replaced by hunger.

She immediately slipped out of her skirt. Once again Stu had been proven wrong, because today she wore green lacy panties, atop the thigh high tartan hose. She looked a delight. Her pert little breasts, topped with those small, fully erect pink nipples, just the right size for her slim frame.

"Perfect symmetry," I thought, taking in the milk white body. "Everything must be perfect for Annette Bond. I wonder how she'll reconcile today's events when she recalls them?"

"Get a sway going. Give me a little dance, while you rub hands over those tiny tits," I told her.

Without a word she immediately complied, closing her eyes and swaying her hips side to side like a veteran stripper. She brought hands up and over her breasts, allowing them to spring back into place. I watched as she repeated this, three or four times. I was certain she'd done this dance before for some lucky fellow.

"Now turn around and show me your ass," I ordered, which she promptly did, allowing me to admire two tight rounded moons. "Nice! Take your panties off, like a stripper would."

Annette hooked thumbs into her panties and drew them off her ass. She bent forward, drawing them down her thighs and calves. Fully bent over she'd pulled them clear of her ankles.

"Hmmm nice!" I crooned, spying her pink pussy lips, peaking between her thigh gap. "I think you've done that before Annette."

This jibe brought no reaction as she stood back upright and turned to face me. I gripped my cock tighter, while she stood there in nothing but her stockings and shoes. Even the little tuft of red hair she left on her mons was perfect.

"Touch yourself," I ordered, and she immediately complied, placing her middle finger along her slit. "Are you wet?"

"You know full well I'm wet. I was about to cum, just before you started playing games. You're being mean!" she snapped, some of her natural personality returning.

"Now, now! No need to get angry. I've already fucked you with those stockings, but they're kinda cute, so let's just get rid of the shoes, shall we."

Again, there was no hesitation. Her shoes were flicked off and placed together to the side. Standing, in a model pose her slim white body now on full display, down to where the tartan stockings began near the top of her thighs. She was indeed a beauty and my cock twitched, but still I lingered. Annette became agitated.

"Fuck it!. You've got my panties off and I can see you're as desperate as I am, but you just sit there displaying yourself like a peacock. Is that how you get off?"

"Are you saying you want this cock?" I asked, wagging it toward her.

"You know I do. You're being a prick about it."

"Ha ha! That's rich coming from you. You spend your whole life being mean to people. So stop your pouting," I told her, which saw her changed tact.

"Please!" she pleaded, in a more feminine voice.

"That's better. Please what?"

"You know."

"What?"

"Can we please fuck now; you prick."

"Come around here then," I laughed, and she quickly moved around her desk to stand in front of me.

I placed hands on her flanks and then down across her slim hips, to the top of her stockings. This ensured she received another full shot of ring power. I then returned to her hips and maneuvered her back, so her thighs hit the desk. I rolled the chair forward, dropped my head close to her pussy and theatrically breathed her in.

"You smell ripe Ms. Bond," I said, making a real act of licking my finger.

I showed it to her, before placing it at her entrance. She moved her feet wider apart, threw her head back and moaned, as I slowly pushed the digit up into her. She used hands to prop herself on the desk, while I began to finger fuck the red-haired beauty. After a time I brought lips to her pussy, just above where my finger was working her.

I tasted her, smelt her, all the time listening to her moans grow louder.

"Oh yes...you can't help yourself Annette...can you. Any man comes to your office and you dissolve into a horny slut. You'd open your legs for the janitor if he called by..."

She might have heard my taunting, but she completely ignored it, merely concentrating on the sensations she couldn't control. I introduced a second finger and by this point it was her doing all the movement. I moved my head back to prevent getting injured, as her hip thrusting increased further.

"Oh, oh, oh yes, that feels so... amazing, I can't stand it...don't stop..." she garbled, now fully fucking herself on my fingers.

When she reached to grip my shoulder and dug her fingernails in, I abruptly removed my fingers and pushed the chair back,

"What?" she questioned, screwing up her pretty face. "What the fuck. I was about to cum..."

I sat there smiling back at her and she immediately moved fingers to her pussy, clearly intent on gaining the pleasure I had just denied her.

"Move your hand away," I demanded standing and grabbing hold of her wrist.

"You're being a bastard, a real bastard, you know that?"

"Ha ha ha," I laughed. "Poor Ms. Bond isn't getting it all her own way for once. Well too fucking bad."

I reached out took hold of the pretty pink nipple and twisted it.

"Owww," she screamed, taking hold of my hand and wrenching it off her.

"Now then. You want to get fucked don't you?"

"Bastard!"

"Don't you?" I repeated reaching for her nipple again.

"Yes!" she said quickly, looking fearful.

"Lie back here then," I said, indicating her desk.

"What? Right here," she questioned, looking around at her desk.

"Go on, you know you want to," I told her, rubbing the ring liberally around her hip and butt. "I'll fuck you on your desk. Turn and clear it and then get on your back, with your pussy right at the edge, where I can easily access it."

I wasn't even trying to be anything less than mean and demanding. No doubt the type of man Annette Bond would normally love to put in his place. For a second it looked as though this is what she intended to do. I merely raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going to give me that look every time I tell you to do something?" I asked sternly. "Just do it!"

Her need was such that the look fell away and without any further protest she turned. I rolled the chair back to admire her butt, atop her stockinged legs, as she leant to neatly rearrange her precious items.

"Push them all off onto the floor," I ordered, causing her to stop and look back over her shoulder.

It was against her ordered nature, but likely fearful of another telling off she turned back, swept her arm one way and then the other. Items clattered to the floor before she turned and sat up on the edge. She leaned back onto her elbows, legs hanging off the desk.

"Hmmm that's better," I hummed getting up and stepping forward, stroking myself as I did.

I pushed her legs wider and moved between them, resting my cock on the little tuft of ginger hair. Looking directly down at her, I ran hands along her flanks and then up over her breasts.

"You have a gorgeous, tight little body," I complimented, repeating my actions, sending all the power of the ring and the feelings it engendered, coursing through her body.

"I know that!" she replied, shutting her eyes, reveling in my touch.

"And you want me to fuck you again," I asked, now tapping my cock on her pussy lips.

"Yes. Yes I do," she said quivering.

"What?"

"Yes please. Please fuck me"

"That's better," I said, loving her servitude, while pulling her ass almost clear of the desk.

With slow deliberation I lifted each slim, stockinged leg up to the vertical. Preparing herself, she lay back flat on the hard table, reaching out to grip the front edge. With her calves running up my chest, I tapped on her pussy, before positioning myself at her entrance. Looking down at the pale beauty lying before me, I was almost as desperate she was, but with the greatest of will power I stepped back.

She said nothing merely screwing up her face again, clearly wanting to call me a bastard or something similar. I gathered up her stockinged legs and took hold her by the ankles.

"I don't think I'm quite hard enough," I lied, my cock standing tall. "I'm not sure that you turn me on enough. Here; give me a little foot massage to bring me on."

"A massage..." she queried, as I brought her feet to my cock.

"Don't act dumb with me. You've done it before. Now work my cock," I demanded.

The grimace on her face showed she wasn't happy, but she'd done this before alright. She turned her feet to place the soles each side of my cock. When she slid a hand down across her stomach I gave her a look and she placed it back on the desk. She began to run the nylons up and down the side of my shaft.

"Hmmmmm..." I crooned. "That's nice. Your good at it. I knew you would be. Place one foot on my shaft and use the other to massage my balls."

She immediately began to do as ordered. With her legs bent at the knees I could easily reach forward to touch the skin above her stockings. I moved the ring across the bare skin and watched her shiver with desire. She renewed her efforts on me, moving her feet to different positions.