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“It’s pretty rare too actually. A Waterman from the late 19th century. Cool enough in itself but this particular piece was rumored to have been used by none other than William Morris to pen the drafts for News From Nowhere.”

My jaw literally dropped in astonishment. It was like a piece of literary history right there in front of me.

“And I though my lingerie was nice,” I blurted, before I could stop myself.

“Show me,” he said.

There was something in his done that was different in a god way and made want to obey him. I was also nearly certain that Simon was my Secret Santa, the pens being the clincher. They were exactly the kind of thing that would have been used to write the notes.

I started with my shoes. My jacket was already hanging on the back of my chair back in my cubicle which made things a bit easier. Still, I felt kind of like an artichoke, peeling off layer after layer. Finally, I got down to a t-shirt and my jeans. Big baggy things I’d gotten junior year to try and hide the curves of my ass. Curves Simon didn’t seem to mind at all.

My hands were shaking as I took the bottom of my shirt, pulling it up over my head in one quick move. Before I had time to think about what I was doing and possibly second guess it, I started on my pants. Getting them open and off in no time. Once it was all off, I just stood there, awkwardly before him, not sure what I should do.

“Come here,” he commanded.

So though he said the magic words, I went over to him, as though in a trance. Simon let me come up within inches of him, before stopping me with gentle hands on my hips. I came to a dead halt. Simon turned me around so he could see my ass. More of it than he ever had before.

He didn’t touch me exactly. Yes, the tip of his first two fingers brushed my skin as he ran them along the edge of the lower part that covered my ass. He then turned me around and did the same at the front, his fingertips getting inches from my pussy. Then, he went up and repeated the process around my tits. It reminded me a bit of hose I used to make sure my dog’s collar wasn’t too tight. It was then that he was making sure he had gotten the right size. He would have had to guess, with no way of knowing my size. He sized me up well, the lingerie fitting perfectly. I was touched that he cared so much. His main concern, seeing me wear it for the first time whether it fit okay, rather than more carnal matters. I was also wearing the sapphires and some perfume, so his restraint was really impressive.

“Does it feel okay?” I asked.

“Yes, sir. It feels great.”

“Good,” he said with a gentle smile.

He lay a hand gently on my belly and I let out a little gasp from the sudden contact. Not that I minded at all. His hands were even warmer and softer than I hand imagined. My gasp turned to a hum of pleased contentment.

“This okay?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“You can say no.”

“I know, sir. I like it.”

Taking my statement in the spirit I meant it, Simon stoked my belly in a way that damn near made me moan. He leaned in and kissed me tender on the neck and made me quiver with pleasure. He hadn’t even touched any major erotic zones, and I was already putty in his lovely hands.

Still stroking my belly, the kisses on my neck mixed in with licks and nibbles, Simon reached around with his free hand, putting it squarely on my ass. I flinched slightly. It was embarrassing but I couldn’t help it. Despite my euphoric state of mind, I couldn’t quite shake my all my insecurities. The one about my ass one of the longest standing.

“You okay?” he asked, stopping dead.

I let out a title cry, but it was nice to know that I could trust him. It was easy enough to say that he was going to stop, but he had proven that he would. Something that only made me want him more.

“Yes, sir. Please, don’t stop.”

He started up again, filling me with the most beautiful light, every one of my nerves rising to attention under his sure, gentle touch. My pussy was getting wetter by the second and starting to ache. I wanted so much for Simon to touch me down there. Even if it was going too fast by the standards I’d been taught. It occurred to me then that what I wanted to do when might actually be up to me.

“W-will you touch me, sir?”

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