nothing to whet my sexual appetite though. The whole commute in, I can feel that thin string riding me. It’s pure torture, of the most exquisite kind.
Mr. Godrich isn’t in yet when I arrive, but that’s nothing new, since he doesn’t normally arrive until ten or so. I sit behind my desk and start to get myself ready for the day ahead, but I’m too distracted by the heat radiating between my legs. Oh God, why did I have to go and wear this stupid thong?
I squirm in my seat but that does nothing to help with my excitement. If I could just quickly take care of business, I know I would be fine but I can’t do that at work. At least not again… not after what happened last time.
Yet the more I try to forget about the sizzling fire between my legs, the more it seems to burn me. To call to me.
I have to take the thong off.
I shock myself a little with the idea but suddenly the thought of that comfort is all I can think of. No riding, no twisting, no rubbing. The dress isn’t sheer in the least so there’s no way anyone would be able to tell, and I’d actually be able to concentrate on my work instead of squirming in my seat all day.
I get up and close the main door to our area, the one that separates my cubicle area from the rest of the hallway. With the door closed, there’s no chance of anyone seeing me. Even if Mr. Godrich happens to come in, I’ll hear him turning the door knob and be able to adjust myself in time.
I quickly hitch up the skirt of my dress and slide my panties down, stuffing them into my purse. Oh God, that feels better already.
Of course, now the air against my bare pussy is something else to distract me. I can’t win today.
I slip back into my leather chair and try to concentrate on my work, but all I can think about is how naked I am under this dress. And then I think about Mr. Godrich, and the secretary who claimed he wouldn’t let her wear panties to work. I wonder what he would say if knew what I was wearing right now.
I imagine him lifting up my skirt and finding me bare. I imagine him laying my back over his desk and putting his tongue all over me. Putting his hands on me. Putting his dick…
I’m in the middle of my fantasy when I hear the doorknob start to turn.
I spin around to face the door and plaster a pained smile on my face just as Mr. Godrich walks in.
“Good morning, sir,” I force out. The words come out in a slightly high-pitched squeak.
Mr. Godrich stares at me for a long time. I can tell that my face is beet red.
He looks around the room, as if he’s aware that something is slightly off. He sniffs the air once, twice, then walks straight into his office.
Does he know? Can he tell?
Surely not.
Right?
This is the second time he’s caught me in an awkward position. In all my twenty-three years of living, I’ve never done so many inappropriate things. A month ago, I would have been completely appalled at the thought of going commando at work and yet here I was. There was something about my new boss that just seemed to make me want to do all kinds of things I never would have done before.
I have to get it together. I take a few deep breaths and force myself to get back to work. Maybe it’s the guilt but I actually get a good chunk of work done.
After an hour or so, Mr. Godrich’s door opens.
“Claire, could you please come in here?”
My heart skips a beat. He’s never come out of his office to summon me before. Normally if he needs something, he just instant messages me.
I have a bad feeling about this.
When I go into his office, he doesn’t smile. Of course, that in and of itself isn’t cause for concern, since he very rarely ever smiles. But there’s something about the expression on his face that sends fear coursing through my body.
He gestures to the seat across from his and I sit down, careful to keep my legs crossed. I’m suddenly very aware of the fact that I’m sitting in my boss’s office with no panties on. Ack.
“Claire, do