The Art of Erotica

A Masterful Seduction at the Office

This is an excerpt from my ebook, A Masterful Seduction by the Book, available at Smashwords!

If you’re new to the series of stories, read these chapters and excerpts first …

A Masterful Seduction by the Book
Masterfully Unexpected
Masterful Surprises
A Masterful Weekend Getaway
The Rest of the Masterful Weekend Getaway
A Masterful Makeover

Monday morning I looked at myself in the mirror wearing the silky white wrap-front top, black and white polka dot skirt, white lace corset, and the red fuck-me sandals that George asked me to wear to work.

I almost didn’t recognize myself. Dressed like this, even my posture commanded more attention. My shoulders snapped back straight and made my breasts stand out. They felt fuller and larger than I ever remember them feeling. The shoes made my legs look gazelle-like. Given the sex on a stick heels that I tried not to teeter on, I felt as if I was silently and seductively stalking prey. I thought it was a bit too much for the newsroom and definitely for my feet. I swapped them for a pair of black kitten heel pumps and threw the sandals in my tote bag before I headed out the door. I assumed George had plans for us after work. I could put them on then.

The double takes I got from strangers on the street were distracting. I could tell the guys in the newsroom wanted to stare and say something, but didn’t dare given I was their boss. But I could see that they stealing looks when they thought I wasn’t paying attention. Luckily, it didn’t take long for me to focus on the work that was piling up in my inboxes.

Somewhere in that time a delivery man, a boy of about 20 or 22, was standing at the side of my desk. I didn’t notice him until he cleared his throat before saying, “Umm … Ms. Patrice?”

He eyed me from breasts to legs as he handed me a florist box with a small vase of lilies of the valley, my favorite flower. There was no card. I assumed that they were from George.

As I started texting him to thank him, I got a text from him:

How come you aren’t wearing the shoes I asked you to wear?

I made a quick shoe swap and typed back:

So the delivery man was a spy. No wonder why he was checking me out. They’re on now. And thank you for the flowers. They’re beautiful.

I didn’t hear back from George, but the same delivery man came back again about an hour after lunch. He handed me a small package. I asked him to put it on my desk.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but I was told you needed to see what was inside before you signed off on it,” he said.

Inside the envelope was a black silk blindfold, a Bluetooth, a key card from the Book Cadillac Hotel, and a note that read:

Room 409. 6 p.m. Put the blindfold on before you come to the door and make sure your Bluetooth is on. And provide proof to the delivery boy that you’re not wearing panties.

A burning shade of red fell upon my face when I read the last line of the note. How was I going to do this? I always kept my office door open, and closing it with a delivery man alone inside with me would have aroused suspicion from anyone walking by and anyone in the cubes closest to my door.

With an eye on the door to make sure no one was within view, I dropped the contents of the package on the floor. I quickly parted my legs and hoisted up the hem of my skirt to make sure he got a full and adequate view of my pussy.

His eyes were locked and stuck between his legs. I could see his cheeks puckering. I closed my legs, pulled down my skirt, and looked at the items as a floor as a way to remind him to pick them up. He looked a little embarrassed by my prompt. He didn’t say a word as I signed the receipt and sent him on his way. He scuttled out of my office quickly and gingerly.

I texted George:

I’ll see you at 6. And I’m sure your delivery boy will have a severe case of blue balls the rest of the day.

I got a ping back from him almost immediately.

That’s the impression I got, too. See you at 6.

The rest of my afternoon couldn’t go by fast enough …