6. William
WILLIAM
It’s over too soon. It feels like it only took a few minutes, but when I look at the clock, I realize that nearly an hour has gone by.
Nearly an hour of the workday has already passed this morning, and I haven’t gotten one bit of work accomplished.
This lack of productivity would normally bother me to no end. But how could it right now, when I’ve just been inside of my curvy assistant, her beautiful body bared for me to see?
I have fantasized about fucking her on this desk more times than I can count, usually while she’s walking away from me in that sexy pencil skirt and has no idea that I’m staring at her.
But to be able to do it for real, to make this fantasy a reality...it’s all that matters to me right now. It just might be the end of my highly controlled work ethic, because I don’t know how I’ll ever focus on anything again after what I just experienced.
This woman is mine now. Dot Baker belongs to me. I don’t know if she realizes this yet, but she will in time. She gave herself to me today, and I have no intention of giving her back.
She’ll never love another man. I will be her last, the one to enjoy her for the rest of her days. Her mind, her smiles, her body. All of Dot Baker, soon to be Dot Lewis once I give her my name.
Do I sound insane? If so, it’s because she drove me there. She drove me there slowly, gradually, over these last two years. And then she drove me insane all at once, in a single night, by sending me those photos.
I don’t need a thank you gift from Dot for representing her. It’s something I’d do for her again and again. But I’ll never regret the fact that she sent me those pictures in an attempt to even the score, because it’s what started all of this.
Maybe it’s the push we needed.
“Your body is beautiful,” I breathe, stroking the outer curve of one of her breasts while I kiss her softly on the lips.
After we recovered from our orgasms, I ran to the bathroom and fetched a wet towel for Dot.
Then I watched my girl slowly clean my DNA from her round, juicy breasts…
while I mentally planned out exactly where I’ll do it next time.
Until we figure out a birth control situation, I’ll paint every inch of her body with my come. Or maybe we won’t figure out a birth control situation at all. Maybe we’ll decide to hell with it, and I’ll plant my seed deep inside of her every night until she’s knocked up with my baby.
The thought of that is more than I think I can handle. My cock is already fully hard again. I don’t think I’ve ever been ready for a second round so soon after a first.
This is what Dot does to me.
“Thanks,” Dot says with a bashful smile.
“I mean it,” I insist. “It’s beautiful, Dot. It’s even better than in the pictures.”
“Pictures?” she frowns. “What do you mean?”
“The photos you sent,” I murmur, kissing her throat.
“What photos?” Dot asks, a bit of panic in her voice.
“The photos you sent to me as a gift last night,” I clarify, wondering if in my post-orgasmic bliss, I suddenly started speaking a different language that Dot’s unable to understand.
“I didn’t send you any pictures last night,” Dot says. “I don’t know what you…”
Her eyes widen.
“Wait. What…what pictures did you receive from me last night?”
“The nudes,” I say. “Of you. Your nudes.”
What part of this isn’t she understanding? Did she mean to send me some other file? Different photos of something else?
“Oh my god,” Dot breathes. “Oh no. Oh my god.”
She’s up from the desk, scrambling to find all of the clothes that she’s discarded and putting them on in record time. She sloppily pulls a bra strap over her shoulder, but her large breasts don’t quite make it into the cup, spilling over the edges of it.
She doesn’t bother to fix this before putting on her blouse, which means her tits are still fully out, nipples visible through the white top.
Even in this confusing moment of realization, I’m still turned on. Still want to go bite and suck those pink nipples through the fabric.
Her hair is askew. Her makeup is smeared. She doesn’t seem to be too worried about that right now, though, as she exits my office, going to her bag at her desk and retrieving her phone before coming back.
She scrolls through her phone.
“Oh no,” she groans. “Oh no no no no. I was wondering why it didn’t send properly the first time.”
I’m putting my clothes on now too, horrified at what we both seem to be realizing at the same time: Dot didn’t mean to send those photos to me.
Which means she was trying to send them to someone else.
Who were the photos intended for? I’ll fucking kill him.
She looks at me.
“You thought I sent you my nude photos as a way to pay you back for representing me?” she asks in disbelief.
“I…”
Fuck.
I’m speechless.
I know how this must look. But…she sent me her nudes. With a message about them being a gift. Right after she said she was going to figure out a way to repay me for representing her.
Did I think it was a questionable gift?
Yes.
Did I think the wise thing to do would be to delete them and reprimand her for the inappropriateness the next day?
Also yes.
I should have known it was too easy. My deepest desire for Dot, fulfilled, handed to me on a silver platter. Like a starving man being offered a free steak, I didn't question why. I didn’t think too hard about it. I just took .
And it turned out to be the worst misunderstanding of my life.
“Dot, I don’t know where to begin,” I tell her. “I…I’m sorry. But also -”
She shakes her head, adjusting her clothes while backing out of my office.
“William, I think I need to take the day off,” she says shakily. “If that’s okay.”
“Of course it’s okay,” I frown, following her. “But we need to talk about this. It’s not how it seems.”
Except it’s exactly how it seems, you fucking asshole. You took advantage of your assistant. This is quid pro quo 101 and you are an asshole. A stupid, horny, love-drunk asshole.
“Later,” Dot says. “I can’t talk right now. I…I need to process this.”
There’s nothing for me to do right now but give her space. So I just nod, stuffing my hands in my pockets because if I don’t, I’m afraid I’ll reach for her. This is already a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen and I no longer trust my ability to restrain myself when it comes to her.
“Okay,” I say. “Okay. Go. Take the day. We’ll talk later.”
She nods. Then she leaves. When the front door closes, I slam my fists on my desk in frustration.
How could something that began so perfectly, end in this wreckage?