Unexpected Developments

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He and she, two colleagues, from indifference to passion.
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Prologue

They met in office – and ended in bed.

To her, this came as a surprise, considering their first encounters. She had not disliked the new colleague when he started working in her company in late summer. She just had not cared about him. There were about 50 people, he was new and seemed to be a whippersnapper. His demeanor was reserved, maybe even arrogant, and definitely young, even boyish. During his first weeks, he had hardly spoken to anyone but observantly smiled at everybody. He seemed to count more on his attractiveness then brain – and attractive he was: six feet tall, expensive haircuts, ivory skin, prominent cheekbones and a cover-boy-smile ... physically a young Christian Bale, but without the least hint for a rebellious streak. She had tried to provoke him a little from time to time, but he had always smiled and consented silently. When referring to him towards other colleagues, she called him "the boring pretty boy". He was definitely not her cup of tea.

Later she would find out that he was not too much into tea either – but well into being teased.


Act 1

Earlier, at became obvious that he was a sucker for beer and brandy. He started to go for some after work drinks with two colleagues occasionally, and when they met at business receptions, she regularly spotted him with a glass just about to be refilled.

At one of these occasions, he stood alone in front of the bar waiting for his turn. He looked gorgeous she had to admit. Gorgeous and sexy. His tight suit could not hide the shape of his hard and young body ... that promised hours of pleasurable exploration.

She approached him from behind and derisively raised her bottle of diet coke to him: "Drinking again? No problem with getting up early tomorrow?"

He slightly turned to look over his shoulder. When he recognized her, pale color rose and washed over his high cheekbones. After a short moment of hesitation, he airily replied, "Depends on how long the night will last?!"

His smile was innocuous, but something in his tone caught her attention. He did not blink and kept staring at her when asking, "Can I get a drink for you as well?"

Was he flirting with her? Or was he just a colleague trying to make a first move towards better getting to know her a tiny bit? "Anyway, not completely boring." she thought.

He must have sensed her hesitation, but misunderstood – or simply ignored it. Instead, he gave her shoulder a quick pat, turned to the waiter and ordered two beers.

A pat on her shoulder! She hated being touched in public. She was neither a baby nor a fluffy cat or obedient dog. Nobody had the right to touch her, except her husband – whom she only saw during the weekends – and her mother when she met her two times per year.

Furthermore, she hated it when men just ordered for her without asking for her preferences. She was a grown up woman. She was able to read the menu. She was able to pay her own bill. She was definitely able to order what she wanted, not what others thought being good for her.

However and most importantly, she hated beer.
Beer was bitter, made you smell badly from your mouth and inflate your belly. She hardly ever drank, but at the rare occasions when having a drink seemed appropriate or even necessary, she always opted for wine.

To sum it up, the pretty boy had managed to make three mistakes in less than three seconds – and needed to learn his lesson.

"No thank you!" she said with a firm voice and looked at him with an arched brow when he turned back to her and was about to hand over a glass of fleshly tapped beer.

The teasing look on his face immediately faded and was replaced by an intensity that she had never seen before at him. He seemed startled and immoveable from surprise. It took him a long moment to recover himself. When he had finally managed, he turned away from her muttering "sorry", advanced towards the party, handed one of the two beers to a colleague, gulped down his own drink and resumed the conversation, if not in terms of perfect composure, at least of perfect civility.

She turned on her heels and left the reception without talking to anyone except the cloakroom attendant handing her coat and the taxi driver bringing her to her downtown apartment.

On her way home, she could not forget his beautiful face and wondered: Had it shown puzzlement? Had it been impotent anger? Or ... had it been excitement about the depreciation and humiliation?

She had never before thought about him for more than ten seconds. Now little memories of office situations raced through her mind. His passive behavior, his boyish shyness, his permanent asking for permission to do something ...: He obviously tended to be submissive in daily life. Could it be the same in a more private situation? Did he have the talent to be a boy toy for her fantasies to dominate? She decided to observe him a little more ...


Act 2

Some weeks later, she had made enough observations and had developed some dreams. There was the power dream. She put him in a pathetic beggar's position wanting her like crazy – but she just turned her back and left him alone in her the bedroom. And there was the dominance dream, in which she made him her love slave, gave him orders and enjoyed his kisses way up her leg until things got interesting...

She never got private with colleagues. ‘Never fuck the company' might be an old, but still very smart rule. Too much hassle for too little pleasure. But as she would start in a new company in January anyway, she decided that it was time to invite him to her place.

Fate was with her – or at least the weather or local electricity supplier. One late Monday afternoon in November, she was about to finalize next year's communication concept with him and two female colleagues. The latter were absent minded and more concerned with not to miss an opera performance tonight, so work was going slowly.

Suddenly the lights went off. They looked out on the street. There was hardly anything to see. Apparently, the whole area suffered under the power breakdown. Only her laptop was still working, but there was little power left. Hence, the concept was due for Wednesday's board meeting.
"Well, I guess I will cordially invite the three of you to my place to finish the concept. Beer and Pizza is on the company." she sighed with perfectly hidden excitement and ostentatious annoyance.

"Okay." He was the first to answer, and she was not sure if it was out of obedience, sense of duty or curiosity.

"Uhmm.", the two women hesitated. "It's almost 5 pm and we have to be at the theatre at the other side of the city in less than 2 and a half hour." She gave them a meaningful look with an arched brow and could see their brains race for a face-saving solution. "Maybe we could work in teams? You advance the concept now, and Christina and me will continue tomorrow already early in the morning?" Sandra finally suggested.

He stared at the three women with obvious astonishment and his cheeks overspread with the deepest blush. Her fingers twitched with the need to touch his face and feel if it was as hot as it just looked right now. However, she controlled herself, did not even look at him and answered: "Okay, "I'll send you our version via Email tonight and we can discuss your suggestions tomorrow at noon."

Then she called a taxi, packed her notebook together, took her coat from the wardrobe and smiled at him: "Hurry up; the taxi will pick us up in two minutes."

He stood up without a word, rushed out of the room into his office and came back a minute later with his black parka hung over one arm and a long walking-stick umbrella in the other hand.

"Good to see that you are prepared for every eventuality.", she smirked and left office behind him.

In the orange safety lightings of the office floor, her eyes rested on his sexy butt in the tight denim. She shivered a little and realized that her panties had already become damp. When they entered the elevator, she stood only centimeters behind him. She closed her eyes, reveling in his delicious scent. Her fingers shivered with the urge to touch him, to slide over the muscles of his chest, to wrap around his thick biceps, around his.... If she were not careful, she would be pressing against his body and nibbling on all his man parts within the next seconds in the elevator...

... However, the doors opened in the right moment.


Act 3

Her apartment was rather huge. Her husband and she had bought it some years ago before the neighborhood underwent gentrification. Parts of the area were a bit rough, especially during night, but the building was beautiful. As her husband worked in another town and only came home for the weekends, she had made it "her apartment" and it had become a perfect compromise between interior design and coziness.

Apparently, he had expected something else. When they entered the living room, he blurted out "You have so many plants and candles!" ... He immediately seemed to regret his remark and blushed.

She looked at him with amusement. "Don't judge a book by its cover. I like candles ... especially in the sleeping room."

He seemed unsure if he should answer – and what he should answer. "Were can we discuss things further?" he asked instead and blushed even more when she burst into laughter.

"You want to discuss about candles?" she teased him.

"No, the concept!"

"The concept of candles in the sleeping room? Do you like that?" she insisted.

Apparently, a few fantasies were skittering through his head. His face had turned into a deep red and he helplessly looked away from her. She could see him nibbling at his bottom lip. Her eyes dropped down to his well-worn denim. The soft layers of fabric could not hide that at least his body liked the concept. She ripped her gaze from his crotch and decided to give him a break.

"You want to sit down on the sofa and prepare the laptop? I will be back in a minute. By the way, I do not have beer, only wine. You prefer red or white?"

"Yes, sure ...erm ... and as you wish.", he answered.

This sounded very promising to her ...

She wanted to comb her fingers through those silken strands of his hair. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, assuring him that everything will be all right. She wanted to tell him "Don't worry. I am always careful with my boy toys."

However, she did none of it. Instead, she walked into the kitchen, picked a bottle of Chablis from the fridge and a Barolo from the shelf, filled a decanter with water, came back to the living room, arranged everything on the side table, dimed the lights – "to have less reflections on the laptop monitor", as she explained – and sat down next to him on the sofa. She still wore her anthracite women suit and had her hair tied back to a ponytail. Crimson heels contrasted the darkness of her appearance.

For the next two hours, they worked on the communication concept and emptied the wine. The alcohol relaxed him a little and gave fire to his imagination; at least he came up with some rather good ideas. He was concentrated on the laptop and had apparently framed the situation to be a business meeting.

She was concentrated on her self-control. It was only four times that she could not resist completely, but unintentionally touched his thighs or hands when she bend over him and poured more wine into his glass.

She took pleasure in seeing him wince a little each time when her hand met his body. She carefully paid attention that he drank way more than she did. Nevertheless, since she was not used to alcohol, she already felt a little tipsy ... and horny. She wanted to cuff him at the bedpost, touch him, lick all over his body from head to heel, stop at the middle of it, taste his hard flesh, make him shiver, quiver, beg for release ...


Act 4

He interrupted her thoughts when he looked at his watch, stood up and sighed: "I think I should go; it's almost 10 pm."

She hesitated for a long moment. Then she replied, "Stay for one more glass."

The sound of her voice made clear that this was hardly a plea or a proposal. It was an order.

He had his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets and rocked forth and back on his heels. "Erm ... my wife is waiting for me ... and I have this conference call at 8 am. ... I think I already did and had my share for tonight and... "

"Are you sure you had your share for tonight?" she interrupted him.

"Hell yes! I had a liter of wine and quite some nice ideas, so ..."

"I also have some nice ideas." she interrupted again and sneered at him. "But I have not finished the most important thought and taken the most important decision."

He sighed again and sat back on the sofa next to her. "So we talk about this last point and then I might go?" he asked.

He was quick in giving in, she thought with appreciation, and answered: "Yes, exactly."

"So what is this most important thought?" he inquired with impatience in his voice.

Her body overruled her brain. She wanted to rub against him like a cat in the heat.

"I have not decided yet if I should seduce you." she interrupted his stuttering.

He was caught in surprise and his mouth was wide open while he stared speechless at her. Even in the dim candle light, she could see that he had blushed. His right hand strayed carelessly through his thick dark hair, while the left one clutched the empty wine glass.

There was a moment of complete and awkward silence, as even the CD had just finished the last song. She did not look at him, but seemed to be more interested in the circling Barolo in her glass.

He found back his voice and the courage to inquire: "Why have you not decided yet? Is there some kind of Pro and Con list, which you have not worked out?"

She silently stood up, carefully searched through her CD rack, chose a disc and inserted it in the CD-player. When the first notes filled the living room, he immediately recognized the Soundtrack of ‘Cruel Intentions'.

"Sure is there a list." she finally answered.
"The Pro side is longer, the Con side maybe more important at the moment."

"So for brevity, let's start with the Con side." he suggested, trying to hide his uncertainty and surprise with a little laughter.

"First, I do not know if I can trust in your discretion. Second, I am not sure if it's even worth talking the risk since you drank five glasses of wine and your abilities might be impaired." she bluntly answered.

"I am discrete, and my abilities are perfectly fine!" he blurted out with his dark, but agitated voice.

Her thighs melted form the heat his words inspired. She was surprised what effects he had on her. All he had to do was give her a timid look from those intense green eyes behind his Tom Ford glasses ... and she dropped anything – including her pants.

She looked down at her wine, but could not conceal her amusement about his wounded male pride. "Sounds great!"

Her gaze met his eyes, swept over his heated cheeks, briefly rested on his lips and slowly drifted down to his chest and his crotch. Her fingers wanted to unbutton his denim... She gave a little shrug, brushed an imaginary fluff off her jacket and used the brief pause to catch her breath.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" she broke the silence.

He had not moved at all within the last minute, just kept staring at her without a word. Then he whispered, "Yes, please!" His voice sounded nervous; yes, but also full of desire, hot and intense.

Her eyes glinted with a naughty sort of satisfaction. "Do you want me to tear off your clothes, cuff you to my bedpost, drop hot wax on your nipples, caress your balls with a feather and blow the mind out of you?" she ask with a hoarse voice.

His voice was barely to hear, but trembled with excitement. "Yes, please! ... but ... how do you know?"

"I observed you in office. You like to please. You like to receive orders and follow them. You like to obey. I told you to come to my place – and you did. I told you to stay – and you stayed. It is obvious. You are submissive. In addition, you are cute. Whereas I like to control cuties. I like to give orders to cuties. That is why you are here tonight. You will do what I want you to do and believe me you will not regret it. I am very careful with my boy toys."

Her breath had sped up a little during this monologue. She started to rub her fingers over his hand in soft, gentle swirls. His skin war so pale, even in the flickering lights.

Nobody said a word. Just the music played in the background. Their eyes met as they both stared over their hands, and she saw consent in his glance.

She lifted his hand to her mouth and brushed a warm kiss over his knuckles. Tiny little kisses that made him panting. After a while, she focused on his thumb, circled her tongue around the top of it, and licked the sides, nibbled a bit on his nail. Then sucked the whole thump it into her mouth, caressed it with her lips, her tongue ... She let him slip in and out, circled around the fingertip again ...

She mimicked the slow, heady pleasures he would have later – and it was obvious that he understood. He had closed his eyes and nibbled on his own lower lip with a groan. She could see that his dick had hardened and the length of it was throbbing against his zipper.

She slowly pulled her mouth from his fingers, but kept his hand in hers and firmly closed her fingers around his wet thumb. "Do you want me to go on?" she asked with an innocent voice.

"Yes, please!" he pleaded.

She smoothed her hands over the hard planes of his chest. For just a second she reveled in the feel of his heart beating beneath her palms. She needed to know if the body felt as she had imagined it in long hours of daydreaming. Her hands roamed his shoulders before she slid one inside the open collar of his shirt. Her fingernails scraped a trail of ecstasy along his chest. He winced and groaned with pain and pleasure.

His moan filled her with sensual power. Passion swirled through her body. Her nipples ached and pressed against her blouse, pleading for attention. Hot and damp desire pulsed between her thighs.

She leaned closer, so he had to tilt backward, his hands propping him up in a half sitting, half lying position. Her breasts brushed against his chest softly. Her face was only centimeters away from his. She removed his glasses with one hand and used the other to hold her own weight.

"You asked for it!" she whispered before her mouth took his. A swipe of her tongue over his lips was all it took to get him to open that delicious mouth to her. She teased him a little; her soft lips were gently rubbing over his, and then slipping away, coming back ... She sipped at the rich taste of him, sucking his tongue deeper into her mouth, while her fingernails dug into his biceps.

"Oh God!" he gasped hoarsely.

More, her body shouted.

She slipped one hand along his side until she found the button and zipper holding his denim. A flick of her fingers and she loosed the fabric.

"Do you really want me to go on?" she asked under her breath. She did not need to wait for an answer. His body spoke for him under her fingers

"Then follow me to the bedroom. And follow my rules!"

Act 5


He did both. Only minutes later, she had him cuffed to her bedposts with three black leather wrist and ankle cuffs – hands bound over his head, legs widely spread. He was completely naked and his skin shone pale in the light of a dozen candles of different sizes. The room was warm, but he shivered. She could see that his nipples were hard and his eyes awaiting things to come.

"You want me to warm you up?" she asked.

"Yes, please!"

‘He understands his role.' she thought with joy and grabbed a wool blanket, threw it over his naked body and left the room without further words.

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