tagFirst TimeThe Seduction of Emma

The Seduction of Emma


I met Emma in the small reference library of our work place. This is the story of her seduction (of me?), and our education.

My story was pretty boring before I met Emma. Racing through high school and college, I had started my own business at age twenty. No big sweat; it came easily as long as I worked hard and kept my nose to the grindstone. No time for the partying and socializing of my peers. Any down time I had, I ran. The intense exercise cleared my head and de-stressed me. Some people called it jogging, but I went full out, and not many runners passed me on these excursions.

One year into my new business, I was bought by a much bigger endeavour and thought that the transaction would be beneficial to both parties. I stayed on, heading up the division where my expertise lay.

My office was noisy, so I often headed to the small reference library downstairs. It wasn't really a library; it was a quiet room with working desks, a large project table a couple of very nice computers linked to high speed access, and a collection of technical manuals I often referred to. I could spend hours in there, lost in my own little world of science and 'what if I tried this' possibilities. It was my place of refuge.

I noticed Emma in the library one mid-June day. Mid height, and with shoulder length hair, she sat with a poise I've rarely seen. Her skin was pale, which accentuated her dark hair, and when she looked up, the depth of her eyes made me feel dizzy. I didn't know her name then, but she had this quiet beauty that stuck in my mind, and I thought of her pretty much constantly over the next few days.

I couldn't understand how this young woman, who had said nothing and had passed by me like a ship in the night, could stick in my brain so intensely. When I didn't see her again for several days, I kicked myself for not having introduced myself to her. Not knowing her name precluded asking around, not that I ever would have entertained that thought. I wondered if she was just an itinerant student and she had appeared before me just to test me by the gods almighty.

I swore to myself that if another opportunity arose I would not pass it by. I was already 22 years old, and now comfortable enough in my career to start thinking of what I had pushed back for so long.

It was another two weeks before I saw her again. I wanted to jump up and ask her where she had been, but common sense and my own intrinsic shyness saved me from embarrassing myself.

I had been working on a project that could wait, so finally screwing up the courage, I stood and walked over to where she was reading.

"I'm Mark," I said.

She looked up, then immediately down again. Her dark eyelashes fluttered and she started turning an absolutely gorgeous shade of pink. It made me think of a peach just as you caress it before taking your first bite.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know who you are." She looked up as she stood and extended her hand, and I took it to shake it. For what seemed at first glance an extremely shy girl, her grip was firm and dry, telegraphing a confidence not apparent to the causal observer.

I smiled, not saying anything.

She looked down again, her colour changing again.

"I'm Emma."

It was barely above a whisper and I strained to hear her. I wasn't about to throw this opportunity away, so I asked her if I might sit.

She nodded, a smile just playing at the corner of her mouth.

"Please," she said barely louder than her last words.

The details of what we talked about are not important. Suffice to say that as soon as she started talking about her project, she became animated and excited. I wasn't my area, but I was certainly knowledgeable enough to understand the nitty-gritty of it.

When she finally looked at the time, she jumped up, excusing herself profusely, and headed for the door. As she disappeared down the hall, I couldn't help but think it was going to be an interesting summer. I didn't know anything more of her, except her name, but I had my 'in' now.

I didn't see Emma for the next few days. I knew where her base was, so I made an excuse to myself and headed up to discuss details of a joint project with one of her supervisors. It was actually quite a fruitful meeting, and I left feeling that the meeting was not just an excuse after all.

Emma was waiting to head into the office as I came out. I almost walked right into her but stopped short. She looked a bit flustered, and went to back away, but I interrupted her by greeting her by name.

"Hello, Emma. I've missed you in the library."

This young woman had a beautiful range of colours she could turn, and she demonstrated it again. I smiled and waited for her to regain her composure.

"Yes, soon," she managed. "My super has suggested I ask you about a few aspects of my project."

I tried to keep my expression neutral, but I couldn't believe my luck. A chance to work with this young creature.

"Can we meet tomorrow, at a time of your convenience?"

"Sure," I replied. "I'm flexible all day."

I headed backflip my office, smiling inwardly. I could hardly believe this turn of events and I headed home later with an unfamiliar ache in my groin.

I had a very fitful night's sleep. It was filled with visions of Emma, and all the possibilities that only an over heated young man's imagination could produce. This was new to me, and I was more than just a little confused by these feelings.

Morning finally came, and I was in my office early. I needed to get my desk cleared, to have time for Emma. I didn't want to rush anything.

Emma appeared quite early, before some of my colleagues had even arrived. We headed to the library because as I had noted, it was quieter and more conducive to deep discussion. Besides her morning greeting, she had barely said anything, but as I walked behind her, I could smell her aroma and it was intoxicating.

I felt I was going to be challenged drawing her into any non-work conversation, and I was desperate to make it work.

We sat, Emma along the long side of the table and me at right angles to her on her left. I felt we could be close enough to examine papers together, but non-threatening at the same time. Emma opened a folder, blushed at me, stuttered twice then began.

Like a cold Diesel engine, as soon as she warmed to the task, she set a pace I could hardly match. I listened intently, scribbling a note on a scratch pad in front of me.

When she finished, we sat in silence. For the second time in two meetings I had been totally surprised by the Emma that lurked under the surface of this pretty, lithe young woman. I was quiet for another few long seconds.

"Fantastic," I said. "I have a couple of comments and a couple of ideas I think you might like."

"Super," was all she said.

Another silence and then we both started talking together. A couple of nervous laughs, and three hours later we looked up to the clock and both gasped. How had the time flown by so fast?

Emma folded up her papers and put them in her satchel.

"Thank you," she said, and looked at me intently.

"You're welcome," I replied.

She made to leave, but paused to turn to me again.

"Was there anything else?" she asked.

It was my turn to stammer. I could feel the heat in my face. I could only hope it wasn't too obvious. She was watching me, and that almost smile played at the corner of her lips again.

"Actually," I stammered, "there was something. I was wondering, I mean, I had something I wanted to talk to you about."

She was starring at me, her large brown eyes, so deep and endless, silently asking me to go ahead.

"It has nothing to do with work," I blurted out.

It was Emma's turn to be more composed. She didn't wait to ask what it was about, or what I meant. She raised her hand to me and just said, "Meet me in the coffee shop across the street after work."

She then put her fingers to her lips, silently saying keep it a secret, and she turned and walked out, down the hall.

I sat there with my notes in front of me, scattered like my brain was at that moment. How did she turn me into a quaking bowl of jelly without even a word, and how in the world did she know where I was going before I even managed to spit it out! I needed to up my game, but realized I was in over my head with something I wanted for the first time in my life.

The afternoon dragged on. I had never had an afternoon last that long before. I even walked into a colleague's office to check my clock. Finally I had had enough, and did my best to wash up and make myself presentable. No small ask if you are me.

The coffee shop was not busy, but not quiet either. I found a spot where I could sit with my back to the window, and be anonymous.

Emma was late. I wondered if she had had second thoughts about meeting me. After all, workplace trysts have been discouraged by the powers that be, and we were about to tread on thin ice.

Just as I was beginning to curse myself for being so naively hopeful, she walked in. I say walked, because she had had to have been walking. What I saw was an angel float in, hardy touching the ground. She was wearing something different from earlier in the day. It was yellow, and light, and barely seemed to hide her graceful curves. I swallowed hard, and told myself to keep my cool, just be me and it would be okay.

Emma sat down across from me. She smiled, gazed at me with those wide, dark eyes of hers.

"Hi," was all she said. She wasn't making it easy for me.

Moments passed. I shuffled in my seat.

Finally she continued, "Before we go any further, we need to lay down some ground rules."

"How do you know where we are going?" I replied. "I haven't said anything yet!"

She smiled at me again that way. She said simply that she had been watching me watching her since that first day in the library. It was her idea to develop a joint project, and that I was an open book when it came to reading my mind.

I sat up, totally overwhelmed. Here I was thinking I was the hunter, all the while being the prey.

I cleared my throat to speak but she put her hand up.

"Yes," was all she said.

I breathed out. What would it be like to date someone who knew what I was thinking before I did? This was going to be interesting!

I took another big breath, and suddenly we were both talking at once. And no, she couldn't read my mind, she just had a very perceptive take on behaviour, and paid attention to people around her. She was one of these people who could read a face like it was a book. Her shy demeanour hid a very interesting and inquisitive mind. On the other hand, it became apparent that Emma was not worldly at all. She had followed the same path as I had, with pretty much the same results. She was just a couple of years behind me.

After talking and exploring our common pasts, Emma said she had to head off.

"We can't be seen together," she said. "I know people and how they behave. I can't be seen with you or my co-workers will think I'm sucking up. They would make my life impossible."

I nodded. Mine too I thought.

We said our goodbyes, but turning before she left she said, "Friday. Somewhere quiet. You decide."

I headed home then. The ache from earlier in the week had intensified and localized. My balls had never hurt when I walked before, but I had a difficult time now. I was going to have to temporize or life was going to be very painful.

I headed for my shower immediately on arriving home. I had thought that I didn't want to come across as a total loser when and if the big moment came, I should practice putting a condom on beforehand. What better place than a nice warm shower, and I could relieve some of the pressure at the same time.

Warming up was easy. All I had to do was think of Emma, and sproinge, up I went with an ache and throb that was begging for release. I opened the little disc, and placed it over the head of my cock. I had read the instructions, and rolled it down my shaft. No problems so far. I started slowly stroking, thinking of Emma all the while. Within seconds, I had a burning sensation along my shaft, which grew rapidly to intolerable! I ripped the condom off, and look with dismay at my lobster-red cock. I turned into the shower and hurriedly rinsed myself off, using soap and a lot of TLC. Just my luck, and I had even bought the non-latex brand because they had promised that 'you don't even know it's there'.

A lot of Benadryl cream, a sleep of the dead, and the next morning I was relieved to examine myself and find everything thing appeared to have returned to normal. No one was ever going to believe this.

I should have known that Friday would take longer than usual to arrive. I tried to bury myself in my work, as was my usual pattern. It worked, but it was painfully slow. I also wracked my brain for an idea for us. 'Somewhere quiet'.

Time does click by and a pretty regular rate. It's only our perception of it that changes. And Friday did come and I was more than ready.

I left a message for Emma, under the guise of work on her project. Time, place, and I would bring a bottle of nice wine. All she had to do was to bring herself and her wonderfully acute sense of observation.

Emma was there pretty much on time.

It was a nice restaurant, out of the way, quiet, and certainly not pretentious. Perfect for a first date. I was surprised how relaxed we both were, given the surprises at work and the uncertainties of a true first date. We talked about me, of course, but soon enough, all about Emma.

I found her a fascinating, multifaceted young woman. She had done everything except fuck around. She could talk about science, about art, and more importantly, could listen to opinions that did not agree with her own. I thought that here was the woman I wanted to spend a lot of time with.

Dinner came, and we shared bits and pieces. One of the wonderful things about the bistros in my neighbourhood was that you couldn't just eat your own dinner. You had to share, because each mouthful was so delectable. Watching Emma eat was also part of the enjoyment. Every bite seemed an experience not to be forgotten.

Eating dinner with a beautiful woman makes food and wine taste better, and mine was tasting like it never had before. Not even a starving man on a desert island could have had the same appreciation that I felt.

Dinner finished, much later that I had anticipated. We had talked about ourselves, work, and many other things. It was easier than I could have ever hoped for. We walked along the lake front and suddenly it was very late. We made our way back to my car, and I drove her home.

Emma lived in her own apartment, her parents were living in another city.

I walked her to the door. She didn't ask me in, and gave me a chaste kiss goodbye. I was secretly relieved, because I still had the allergic episode in my mind. I had no idea of what we would do when the opportunity finally arose.

As I drove home, my mind was more settled, but my balls were not. This ache was becoming familiar, and I needed to do something about it. Alas, that something was a somebody, and we were going to move at her pace. I was going to have to be patient.

Another visit to the shower, but this time without and props, and I soon felt that I could be more patient.

Over the next two weeks, I met Emma several times. Each time as chaste as the first. I was a little frustrated, but we were clicking extremely well on all other fronts. The furthest I had reached as far as physical contact, was holding hands.

We walked and talked, and laughed and talked some more. Sometimes Emma would walk, and I would just admire her lithe form moving. She didn't seem to walk like other people; she seemed to float, not really touching the ground. I had noticed this the first time I had seen her out of the work environment. I didn't think I could ever get enough of it.

Her hair also had seemed to change. Still dark, it seemed to be alive, and she would toss her head slightly to move it on out of her eyes. It could see her sneaking peeks at me when she thought I wasn't watching. Of course, I was doing the same.

One evening we were sitting by the lake watching pairs of ducks. The mallards with all their colours were spectacular. We laughed as the males patrolled and protected their mates. Emma moved closer to me, pushing her shoulder into my side. I put my hand on hers, and she reached over to take my hand with her other hand also, holding it firmly on her lap. She didn't look at me, keeping her gaze on the ducks.

As we returned towards her place, we walked hand in hand. Emma very walked close to me, and I could feel her breast gently colliding with my arm every few strides. I wondered if this was on purpose, or just because we were walking so closely, but when her hand tightened on mine every time this happened, I knew it wasn't by chance.

Things finally seemed to move forward. On a subsequent evening we had been exploring near her flat, and as I walked her to her door, she turned and gave me a very warm kiss right on the lips. I returned the kiss eagerly, and she reached up to take my neck and pull it down to her.

"I'd really like to do this again soon," she whispered, kissing me again, pushing against me fully. I could feel her breasts on my chest, and an arm pulling my waist.

"Tomorrow is Friday, so come over here after work. I can try to make something nice."

She kissed me again, with her now familiar smile playing at the corner of her mouth. I should have known by now that this smile spoke volumes.

Friday evening could not come soon enough. I kept thinking of Emma pressed against me, of her lips on mine.

I was in the library again, trying to concentrate on some esoteric part of a job, and Emma sat down across from me. I looked up and caught her eye. She gave me that almost smile, and looked away. There were other people around, and she was playing it close. Something though, made me feel better, having seen her and having her see me. I couldn't describe it, but it was as if our hearts had talked in a conspiratorial way, without ever having said a word. We had our secret and it was safe.

At home, I showered and changed. If Emma was cooking, I was bringing flowers and wine. I arrived at her doorstep just on time.

I rang.

Was this the woman of my dreams?

Was I waiting for my life to change forever?

I waited with bated breath.

Opening the door, she took my hand, and wordlessly guided me in.

I looked at her, and she did her almost smile again. I knew now that this expression spoke worlds, and I could feel my cock throbbing with un-promised anticipation in its prison. She tipped her head up and gave me another warm kiss.

"Yesterday was really nice. I'm surprised that you took so long to kiss me," she whispered. "I think that's why I'm really getting to like you."

I was more than a little surprised. I have been patiently waiting for her to give me a cue, while she had been testing me.

"I think we need to explore this possibility further," she said in her most scientific and businesslike expression, then burst out laughing.

She was obviously as as interested and nervous as I had been about taking our relationship to the next level. I leaned forward and kissed her again, this time letting my hands play softly over her hips. We stood and kissed like this for a bit, neither of us knowing exactly what the next step should be.

"This way," she motioned, and led me down the hall.

Emma had set her table romantically. There were candles on the table, and strategically placed around the room. Their flames cast a soft glow on everything, especially on Emma. She seemed to positively radiate and I couldn't keep my eyes off her.

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byRichardLeslie© 7 comments/ 23159 views/ 16 favorites

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