The boss and His temp sexy secretary Daydreaming

The boss and sexy secretary

The morning sun cast a golden hue over the city. I stepped off the bus, my heels clicking against the pavement. I joined the river of people flowing toward their workplaces. The air buzzed with the energy of a thousand routines colliding.

Briefcases swung while coffee cups were clutched tightly. Occasionally, a burst of laughter cut through the hum of hurried footsteps. I moved with purpose, weaving through the crowd, but the sheer volume of bodies forced me to slow my pace.

I did not fight the tide. Instead, I surrendered to it. The current carried me forward. I took one deliberate step at a time.

When the glass doors of my office building finally came into view, a wave of relief washed over me. But it was short-lived. There, at the base of the staircase, stood my boss, his arms crossed and his expression stormy.

My stomach dropped. His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, I felt like a deer caught in headlights. But as I approached, his stern face softened, though his tone left no room for negotiation. “My office. Now.”

I nodded, my heart pounding as I followed him inside

As the lowly office temp, I knew better than to argue. I reached his office before he did and hesitated for a moment before sinking into one of the guest chairs. The chairs were decent enough.

Yet, my gaze kept drifting to his chair. It was a plush, executive leather throne that seemed to command the room. It swiveled effortlessly, a symbol of power and authority. Before I stopped myself, I was on my feet, hobbling around the desk in my impractical heels.

I lowered myself into his chair. The cool leather pressed against my black silk skirt. It sent a slight chill through me.

Leaning back, I crossed my legs, the nylon fabric whispering as they brushed against each other. I picked up a pen from his desk. I twirled it between my fingers.

quickly, I imagined sitting here every day. I thought about calling the shots instead of taking orders. The thought was intoxicating, though I knew it was far from my reality. Still, for a fleeting moment, I let myself dream. <> The boss and sexy secretary

I love my job, truly. As a temp, I get to explore different offices, meet new people, and dive into fresh challenges. But the transient nature of it means I’m never in one place long enough to climb any ladders. I’ve accepted this trade-off. Yet, moments like these make me wonder what it would be like to stay.

The sharp click of the door handle snapped me back to reality—The boss and sexy secretary

I froze, pen still in hand, as the boss stepped inside. His eyes widened as they landed on me, seated in his chair like I owned the place.

I scrambled to my feet, my heels betraying me as I stumbled around the desk, but it was too late. He was already inside, his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.

He didn’t say a word at first, just stood there, his foot tapping rhythmically against the floor. My cheeks burned as I avoided his gaze, bracing myself for the inevitable reprimand. This wasn’t going to be good.

But then, to my surprise, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Comfortable?” he asked, his tone laced with amusement.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but he cut me off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about it. Just… maybe ask next time before you take my seat.”

Relief flooded through me, though I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d just dodged a bullet. As I returned to my desk, I couldn’t help but glance back at his chair one last time. Someday, I thought. Someday.

His mouth began to move. He formed words that scolded me for my lateness and my obvious disregard for the rules. I barely registered them. My attention was entirely consumed by the way his perfectly sculpted lips curved with each syllable.

I watched his crisp shirt stretch over his muscular chest. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. My breath hitched. I felt a familiar warmth spread through me.

My nipples tightened against the delicate fabric of my white silk bra.

A flush of arousal crept lower. I felt a pang of dismay. On top of that, I realized that soon my silk panties would bear the evidence of my distraction.

I stood abruptly from his chair, the smooth leather releasing me with a soft sigh. My sheer white stockings whispered against each other. I took a step toward him. The seams ran perfectly up the back of my legs.

Not just that, I raised a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. My wide, round eyes locked onto his. I began to plead. “I’m so sorry,” I murmured, my voice trembling just enough to sound sincere. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

My hand drifted downward, tracing the curve of my waist, my hip, until it reached the hem of my skirt. I let my fingers play with the delicate silk, tugging it ever so slightly upward as I continued to apologize.

“Please, don’t report this to the agency. I really need this job.” My tone was soft and pleading. I watched as his gaze flickered downward. He caught the glimpse of lace stocking tops and the glint of metal garter clips.

For a moment, his composure wavered

His eyes darkened, and a bead of sweat formed on his brow. But just as quickly, he snapped his gaze back to mine, his jaw tightening as he regained control.

I tilted my head slightly, letting my lips curve into the most innocent smile I muster. My eyes widened, the picture of helplessness, and I see the tension in his shoulders ease ever so slightly.

He exhaled sharply and walked around me. He reclaimed his chair with a firmness. This suggested he was trying to reassert his authority. “Don’t let it happen again,” he said, his voice stern but lacking the bite it had held moments earlier. “Consider this your warning.”

Relief washed over me, and I nodded eagerly, my smile sweet and grateful. “Thank you,” I said, my voice dripping with sincerity. I turned on my heel. I made my way to the door. My hips swayed just enough to be noticeable but not overt.

As I stepped out of his office and into the bustling hallway, I allowed myself a small, triumphant smile. Another close call, another escape.

I settled back at my desk, smoothing my skirt and crossing my legs neatly. It was another day and another reminder of the power of a well-timed glance.

A carefully chosen word also demonstrates this power. Mastering the subtle art of persuasion is crucial. I do not have the corner office yet but I know how to navigate the world I’m in. And sometimes, that’s enough.

2

The missionary position is underrated

The boss and sexy secretary