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I might as well give up on work at this point.
She’s wearing just panties and a bra, and I realize that it was stupid of me to forget to give her a swimsuit. Though I have to admit, there’s something far more appealing about seeing her in her underwear.
I’m perfectly satisfied with just watching her lie there in her panties and bra when she begins to remove them.
She’s doing it to avoid tan lines. I’m no idiot, but I can’t help but wonder if she realizes that I can see her from my office.
Seeing the way that her creamy, soft tits absorb the warmth of the sun makes me want to rest my head on them and fall asleep. Her thick thighs cover the chair underneath her, and I can see the prominent mound of her pussy resting between her perfectly round hips. I knew she was pretty when I met her, but there’s something about seeing her in the direct sunlight that has illuminated just how radiant and beautiful she really is.
I can see a slick sheen of sweat across her skin, and I’m already ravenous to lick it from any place on her body. The smell of her skin under the heat of the sun is a fantasy that I’ve unlocked in its entirety, and now I know that there is no resisting her.
I must have her as soon as possible.
After trying to fight my urges toward her, I realize that it’s just not possible anymore. She’s brought me to the brink of my sanity just by existing in the same space as me. What would happen if she came onto me first? I would crumble at her feet.
I’m tempted to pull my cock out and stroke myself as I watch her, but I don’t even want to take my attention away from her for one second to do so. I’ll have a crystal-clear image of this moment in my head forever, certainly long enough for me to enjoy her in my mind after she’s gone to sleep.
My dick is throbbing so hard that I feel like I could make myself cum without touching it at all. This girl has an otherworldly hold on me that I don’t know what to do with. All I know now is that I need to have her in my bed, underneath me, sweating and screaming my name by tonight.
14
Iris
It’s been ages since I was able to relax by a pool like that, and the only other times I’ve been able to, I’ve been surrounded by kids at a resort somewhere. Being able to see into Matteo’s daily life, where he can escape to his own little oasis whenever he needs to, emphasizes just how different he and I really are. I doubt he even thinks about it much, the warmth of the sun on his skin that comes unadulterated by the sounds of the public and their screaming babies.
As I’m coming inside from lying by the pool, the cold of the central air hits my face. I’m reminded of all the summer evenings where I’d retreat back inside after spending the whole say in the sun, playing with my cousins and siblings as if the outside world was going to wait until we were ready to grow up.
Before I’m able to fully indulge the memory, I hear Matteo calling for me from his office. I didn’t even know that he knew I was outside, so I’m a little confused at first.
“Iris, come in here for a second,” he repeats.
I’m holding on to the towel I had brought outside, so I awkwardly set it down before entering his office. I’ve never felt more gross or unworthy of his fine furnishings since the day I got here. I’m sweaty all over from sunbathing, and a slight sunburn has formed across my face. My hair is stuck to my forehead, and my clothes are well-worn and wrinkled from the events of the day.
“Um, yes, what can I do for you?” I say, trying my best to keep myself professional even under such unprofessional circumstances.
“I need you to massage my shoulders,” he says confidently, not even bothering to ask before making such a request.
I pause before responding, waiting for the moment where he laughs and tells me that he’s joking. I’ve been caught in situations like this before where the other person thinks that telling me something untrue constitutes a joke.Haha, I got you!Fuck off, Roger.
“Come on, you’ll like it, I promise,” he continues.
I’m still uncertain if he’s joking. I hate to be taken for a fool, so I wait for the moment where he expects me to reach out my hands to massage his shoulders.
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Matteo,” I say firmly, even though I desperately want to reach out and touch him. I’d really give anything to be let out of this stupid code of conduct with myself, but my ethics are the only thing I really have in this world. I love my job, and I’d hate to do anything that would put it at risk.
“Why? Because you’re a professional? You can be professional and still play around a little. It’s not like I’m telling you to do coke or anything like that,” he says, turning his office chair to face me all the way.
I take a deep breath, choosing to say goodbye to any shred of integrity I had before. I’m going to touch him for the first time since he brought me in from the warehouse. I was hardly even conscious for that, so I’m not even sure if I consider that a true contact.
I’m vibrating from the inside out as I reach out to touch him, and my hands don’t even fully register that they’re resting on his shoulders until I force myself to realize it. I’m really touching him? Because he asked me to?
I have to admit, having him ask me to give him a shoulder massage after all the unrelenting sexual tension between us seems like a bit of an asshole move. He knows I want him to fuck my brains out, so why is he choosing to string me along like this? He could have my pussy on a silver platter if he wanted it.
As my fingers dig into the tight, dense muscles of his shoulders and neck, I can’t help but wonder how it would feel to grab onto them desperately from underneath him as he fucks me hard and slow. The pace of my massaging fingers slows down as the fantasy takes over me, and I’m fighting to keep myself present as he begins to speak.
“Damn, you really know what you’re doing, don’t you? You’ve been holding out on me this whole time,” he says, chuckling a little. “If I had known you were this good with your hands, I would have hired you on as a masseuse a long time ago.”
I want to be disgusted by his comments. I can’t believe that he’d speak to me like I’m a hooker or an escort! He can have as many of those as he wants. I don’t understand why he needs to talk down to me like he’s paid for me to be here.
