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Footsie

Playboy looks to bed co-worker, but she has other, kinky ideas
She was already in the conference room when he arrived. They were thefirst to arrive. She nodded as he sat down.

“Hello,” he mumbled.

Her attire was immaculate, as always; a very professional, nicely tailored DKYN gray skirt suit with a silk camisole under the jacket and beautiful, paisley scarf around her neck. Her jewelry was understated, yet spectacular; a strand of beautiful pearls, pearl studs and a small but beautiful amethyst ring.

Incongruously, she wore open toed shoes that had higher heels than seemed appropriate for the rest of her outfit. She always wore beautiful and expensive outfits that were extremely professional. Yet she always wore those high heeled, open toed shoes. It seemed very odd and out of place with the rest of her demeanor and outfit.

Paul Rudner appraised her, as he always appraised any female; as a piece of meat. She was beautiful; he had to admit, though grudgingly. She was quite tall; in her high heels, she almost reached his 6’1” height. She would have been around 5’9”. She noticed him staring at her feet, as he always did, and she could tell when he began to undress her in his mind. He had that faraway look in his eyes that she recognized. Any beautiful female has seen that look a thousand times.

Though it seemed odd to Paul that she wore open toed shoes in the office, she did have beautiful feet, always perfectly pedicured with bright polish on her nails. All in all, he would enjoy taking her, at least once, if for no other reason than to take the superior acting bitch down a notch or two.

She was exceedingly talented, there was no arguing that. They had both joined the company at about the same time, straight out of college. Working in different departments, they had little occasion to interact. However, as they rapidly progressed in the company, nearing the tops of their departments, they had seen more of each other. Now that they were their department heads, they both reported to the general manager of their division and interacted on a weekly basis, if not more often.

There was a natural competition between them; after all, Jesse, the GM, was sixty-seven, and wouldn’t be around forever. It was generally acknowledged that either Paul or Sharon would take over, even though they were only thirty-five. There was nobody else as talented.

Sharon was strictly business, and had a reputation as the “ice queen” around the water cooler for her manly stride and no-nonsense demeanor. While acknowledging her talent, Paul secretly feared that she may be given undue preference over him due to her gender, since there was so much pressure on companies to have diversity at the top ranks. He was jealous and resentful, and it came across in subtle ways, without his intending it to, when he spoke to her or about her.

Yes, he would love to bag that one, even though he generally had a hands off policy when it came to co-workers. It was too messy; dumping a girl that you worked with, and had to see every day, was just not wise. He’d make an exception for this beautiful bitch, though.

When Jesse and the other department heads entered the room, their staff meeting began. As always, whenever Sharon made a point, Paul had to play devil’s advocate, explaining why a different course of action might make more sense.

When the company was invited to bid on a huge contract with a major prospect, Sharon and Paul were forced to work closely. The bid took several weeks to put together, and they put in long hours together, along with the members of their respective departments. The finished product was an excellent piece of work, and Jesse was highly complementary.

“Knock, Knock,” Sharon said, as she knocked on the open door of Paul’s office. “Can I come in?”

“Come on in,” Paul said, rising to meet her.

“I just heard we won the contract,” Sharon said.

“That’s fantastic.”

“Yeah. I don’t think it’s supposed to be common knowledge yet. The company will want to release it to the press. However, I thought you should know. Congratulations.”

“Thanks, but you get as much credit as me.”

“Well, congratulations to both of us, then,” she said, as she turned to leave.

“Hold on a minute,” Paul said. “I really enjoyed working with you, and this is great news. Maybe we should get together after hours one night to celebrate.”

“You mean, like a date,” she said coyly.

“Well, yeah, maybe like a date. Is that a problem?”

“No. You just don’t seem like the ‘dinner and a movie’ kind of guy. You seem more like the ‘hooking up’ sort.”

“Skip it,” Paul said, sorry he had brought it up.

“I didn’t say no. Why don’t you come by my place at eight o’clock tonight?”

“Sure.”

Sharon wrote down the address and handed it to Paul.

“See you then,” she said, walking out of his office.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then, you cute little bitch,” he thought to himself, “and we’ll see about bagging your little ass.”

She lived in a very upscale condo near memorial park, one of the most desirable locations in the city. She answered the intercom and buzzed him into the building. He did a double take when she opened the door; this was certainly different than her office attire. She wore a very short microskirt with a matching halter-top. It was plain she wore no bra, as you could clearly see her tits swaying with her movements. Her stiletto heels were much higher than her office footwear. She was stunning.

Though Paul already knew she was beautiful, there was no way to know just how perfect her body was in her business attire. This outfit, however, left no doubt. She had curves in all the right places, her abs were tight and sexy, and her skin flawless.

“God, this is going to be easier than I had even hoped for,” thought Paul.

“Come in and sit down,” she said, turning and leading him to the living area.

She sat in an upholstered chair and motioned him to sit down in front of her. There wasn’t a chair, so he tentatively looked around, and then sat on the floor as she seemed to indicate. He awkwardly sat, first with his legs out to the sides, then cross-legged. Her tiny skirt rode up very high on her thighs as she sat, almost revealing the curve between her legs and her butt.

Slipping off her heels, she presented one of her bare feet to Paul, saying, “I’ve seen you staring at them many times. You may touch them.”

“Kinky,” thought Paul as he took her foot.

Her foot was perfectly proportioned with the rest of her. She was a tall girl, and her feet looked to be about a size eight. They were narrow, with long, elegant toes and beautifully polished nails. Though Paul considered himself a connoisseur of the female body…he had slept with dozens of different girls…he had never been particularly interested in feet, though this bitch seemed to think he was. He idly began massaging the foot.

“Umm, that feels good,” she said encouragingly, so he began massaging it in more earnest.

“Paul, there’s some things I want to say to you that you may not want to hear. I agreed to see you because they’ve been on my mind for quite a while. Whether we see each other again is entirely up to you.”

“Shoot,” he said, while inwardly cringing.

“Shit,” he thought. “Is this bitch seriously about to give me a lecture?”

“I’ve always thought you were one of the smartest people I know, in many ways, though you’re stupid and immature in other ways. It hasn’t held you back so far, but it will as you progress further. Your behavior, and maturity, will be more scrutinized as management looks into whether to turn over significant responsibility.”

“I’m doing okay,” he said.

As she talked, he continued massaging her feet. He could almost see all the way up her little skirt to the promised land. He couldn’t believe how incredibly sexy her legs were. Everything about her body was perfectly proportioned, and she had a fabulous face and hair. There was nothing about this chick that was imperfect, if she’d just shut her yap, Paul thought. He began to get a very strong erection.

“Yeah, you’re doing okay, but you could be so much more. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re good looking, and people like you. However, you still act as though you’re twenty years old. You refuse to mature.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Okay, examples. First of all, this stupid competition you have with me. Why can’t you accept me as an equal and work together for the good of the company? Why do you have to be resentful and jealous of me? Even if you think you’re more talented and better than me, it doesn’t make you look good when you point it out.”

“I’m not jealous or resentful,” he said defensively.

She just let his comment drop.

“And then there’s this child like pursuit of trophies. You know, it’s one thing to enjoy the thrill of the pursuit at twenty five, but at your age, to still be going to clubs all the time and having casual, meaningless relationships with girls ten years younger than you just shows immaturity. You may think you’re a distinguished, confirmed bachelor, but in reality you come across as a shallow, immature, spoiled brat.”

“I am NOT immature or spoiled. You’re just jealous,” he said, angrily. He didn't know what he meant, calling her jealous, but he had hurled the first thing that came to mind.

“Settle down, I’m not finished.”

“Well, I am,” he said, as he attempted to rise.

She put her feet on his crossed legs, making it difficult to get up.

“Wait, Paul. This isn’t easy to tell you. I’m only doing so to help you, and because I like you. I like you, but I could never have a relationship with you while you’re so immature. I’m hopeful that by realizing it, you can change.”

“You brag to your co-workers about your conquests. That’s not smart, Paul. Enough of your stories are overheard or repeated that everybody knows about it. The only people, who look up to you for that sort of behaviour, are the twenty-year-old interns. Nobody else wants to know. When you come up for a major promotion, do you think upper management won’t take that into account? If you aren’t mature enough to have adult relationships, do you think that might influence them?”

“Are you sabotaging me with upper management?” he demanded.

“No, you are. If you want to continue living in neverland and stay immature forever, that’s your business. However, I advise you not to brag about it at the office. If you want to see me again, you need to wake up and start to act your age. I’d really like to see you again, and I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, but you have to grow up.”

She let him up, and he stormed out of the building. Driving home, he felt humiliation and anger.

“Fucking bitch used me like a tool,” he thought angrily, though many of her comments had struck a little nearer home than he preferred to acknowledge. “Frigid fucking cunt. Yeah, like hell I’ll ever want to see you again. I’d be crazy to give you that control again.”

He was angry with himself for putting himself in the position of allowing her to feel that she had scored one on him.

“Never again,” he thought as he pulled into his parking lot.

At work, she acted as though nothing had happened, but it still chafed his ass. It was all he could do to keep a civil tongue in his head. With every passing day, the rage got worse rather than easing. Finally, he could take it no more; he had to peg that bitch, and teach her a lesson.

“Hey, Sharon,” he said one day after they had finished discussing some business in her office. “I’ve been thinking about the things you told me, and you know what? You were right. I just wanted to tell you that.”

“I appreciate that, Paul. I’ve always admired you, and I think there’s no limit to how fine a person you can be.”

“Will you see me again?” he asked.

“Sure. Why don’t you come over tonight?”

“I was thinking of a real date,” he said.

“Dinner and a movie?” she asked, laughing.

“Well, maybe dinner, anyway. “Seven o’clock okay?”

“Sure. Just call when you pull up, and I’ll come down. See you then.”

Inwardly, Sharon was sneering at him. “What a stupid prick,” she thought. Sharon had known a million guys just like Paul. Good-looking guys that could have their way with girls, especially young bimbos, and thought that was the only use for women. Guys like Paul figured Sharon’s intelligence was more of a liability than an asset. She hated guys like that, and was fed up with his condescending attitude toward her. She planned to get that promotion, and suspected that Paul would look for another job, rather than to report to her. She didn’t care either way, but she was going to enjoy playing him for a sap in the meantime.

Sharon wore a more modest outfit than the first time they’d met, but it was still much sexier than her office attire. She wore a short, low cut dress, and of course, high heeled, open toed shoes.

They enjoyed a nice evening, with pleasant conversation. When dropping her off, Paul waited expectantly, but she merely kissed her hand, put her hand on his lips, and said, “Thanks, Paul. I enjoyed it. See you at work.”

Driving home, Paul felt only a little better than he had the first time they met at her house. He rarely saw a girl more than once if she didn’t have sex with him the first night. He normally wasn’t into repeated dates, but this girl would have to be treated differently. He was determined to get into her panties.

The next time they saw each other, a Saturday afternoon, they took a long walk along the waterfront. As the day turned into the evening, they enjoyed a walking dinner from the booths along the waterfront. When they arrived back at Sharon’s place, she invited Paul up.

As soon as they were in her condo, she said, “Take off your clothes. I’ll be right out,” she said, as she went into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

“About time,” Paul thought to himself as he removed his clothes and hung them over one of the dining room chairs.

He stood there, naked, feeling a little uncomfortable, as he waited for her.

“What the fuck is she doing?” he wondered.

She came out in a classic dominatrix outfit; short black vinyl skirt, studded, black vinyl bustier, a riding crop; and of course, matching, black stiletto spikes. He was taken aback. She looked incredibly sexy, but she was clothed and he was naked. This wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Sit down,” she said, using her crop to motion to his spot on the floor.

“What the…”

“Silence, male,” she said. “I’m going to let you worship me, as soon as you prove you’re worthy. However, you must obey me. Don’t speak unless spoken to.”

The blood began to rise to his face in his anger and humiliation, but Paul decided to play this out and see where it led. He sat cross-legged on the floor.

Standing in front of him with her legs spread apart and her arms akimbo, hands on hips, she surveyed him.

“Very nice,” she said.

He wasn’t fully erect, but his dick stood at half-mast. He had a very nice body; she had already known that. She was going to enjoy this.

She sat in her chair in front of him and said, “You’ve been a very good boy. You’re showing signs of being able to have a mature, adult relationship. You’re not there yet, but I’m pleased with your progress.”

She offered one of her feet to him. Taking it, he removed the shoe and popped the big toe into his mouth, sucking it. Removing her toe from his mouth, he began kissing her foot all over. He figured she must have some kinky foot fetish, so he was trying to please her. He began massaging it, at first gently, then progressively deeper, as she sighed her pleasure.

Putting the shoe back on her foot, he took the other foot and did the same. When he was finished, he put her shoe on and began rubbing her calves, kneading the large muscles deeply in his powerful hands. She sat with her eyes closed, enjoying the massage, as he worked his way higher and higher, then on to her thighs. He rose up onto his knees and lifted her legs, one at a time, to work her thigh muscles. He was close to her pussy, and the tight, vinyl skirt rose higher and higher, barely covering her genitals.

His dick was fully erect, and he wanted that pussy badly. Just as he neared her pussy, she sat erect and pushed him away with her crop. He sat, and then lay, spreading out his legs. She rose and continued pushing on his chest with the crop until he was flat on his back. She stood over him and put one of her feet on his stomach, applying just enough pressure to allow him to feel the sharp spike of her heel.

She put the spike under his sac and raised it. The sensation of having her heel on his sac, knowing that she could cause him intense pain with a slight movement of her foot made him inhale deeply and hold his breath, praying she wouldn’t. She lifted his sac with the spike, and then released it, over and over. His balls began to ache with the attention paid them. Finally, she rocked her weight onto her sole, stepping down hard on his dick with her shoe. She ground her shoe on his dick, trampling him. She moved her foot from side to side, grinding it until a thick stream of cum oozed out of his dick onto his stomach.

The orgasm was painful and pleasurable at the same time. His balls ached from the rough treatment. He lay there momentarily while she wiped the sole of her shoe on his upper body to clean the cum off.

“You should go now,” she said. “I’ll see you again soon.”

When he was gone, she lay in her bed, replaying the events of the evening in her mind. Holding one vibrator in her pussy while diddling her clit with another, she recalled the hard cock oozing cum under the pressure of her foot until she exploded in a powerful orgasm.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.


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