Frieda was known as a bitch around the office. During my first day on the job, three of my new coworkers told me as much in three separate conversations.

I chalked it up to the competitive work environment. Every office has some drama. Seeing as I wasn’t a banker, just the new IT guy, I figured Freida and I would not interact much, anyway. In my four months there, we exchanged only a few words in passing.

I didn’t find her to be bitchy, but she was cold. Not rude or hateful, but never warm or jolly either. She was curt. Severe. Like a nun or headmistress.  I wondered if her icy demeanor was designed to dissuade flirtatious overtures. Certainly, a woman with her looks must be inundated with unwanted attention.

Physically, Freida was a living doll. Petite, yet curvy, with flawless porcelain skin. Her silky raven locks were always pinned up chicly in a way that drew attention to her button nose, obsidian eyes and flawless ruby lips. Like Snow White, minus the smile.

The location of her desk meant she had to walk past my office several times a day. A circumstance I quite enjoyed and the reason I always left my door open. Although she never glanced in or acknowledged I was in there, I saw her, and I lived for those fleeting moments.

On a Wednesday in mid-December, I was pretending to look busy at my desk when I heard the familiar clicking of her approaching heels. I peered over my monitor as she strolled by, and I noticed she had a happier look on her face than usual. It wasn’t really a smile, but it was distinct from her apathetic resting face. When she passed by later, still looking placid, my curiosity was piqued.

Around 3:00pm I went into the kitchen for a cup of tea and found Freida there too. She was staring out the window, silently stirring a steaming mug, unphased by my arrival. Wanting to take advantage of this rare moment alone, I pushed through my shy, introverted nature.

“Hello, Freida,” I spoke to the back of her head. “How’s your day?”  

She turned her face from the window to look at me, and I gave her a timid grin. Instead of her typical terse reply, she smiled back. Not a rehearsed, spilt-second grin, but a genuine, broad smile!

“Lovely, Mr. Boyd,” she beamed. “It’s going to snow today.”  She turned back toward the window, still smiling.

“Oh,” I uttered awkwardly. “I guess I hadn’t paid attention to the forecast.”  Truthfully, I was caught off guard by her comment and its delivery.

Even in December, snow is rare in southern Georgia. I glanced through the pane at a cloudless blue sky. “Ok, well, enjoy your tea. I’ll see you around,” I uttered as I left.

Walking back to my office, I pondered the interaction. In four months, I’d never seen her offer a real smile. Now, because of snow?

I brought up the weather app on my phone. Sunny, 42F, 20% chance of snow tonight. The odds were not in Freida’s favor, but maybe she liked to play a longshot.

Thursday, I awoke to a thin blanket of white outside. I stared through my window watching barely perceptible snowflakes blow about on the breeze, and I chuckled softly, remembering Freida’s words and bright smile.  She had called it.

 Sitting at my desk later that morning my ears perked at the sound of her walk. I looked up casually, prepared to catch my usual glimpse as she passed. Instead, when Freida reached my doorway, she paused and leaned in, grinning widely.

“Told ya.” She winked and sauntered away without awaiting a reply.

 I let out a sort of bemused chuckle. The playful comment was uncharacteristic of her and atypical of our acquaintanceship. It seemed snow had quite an effect on Freida’s disposition.

By Friday the flurries had accumulated to several inches deep-the most snow this town had seen in over 20 years. On my drive to work, I saw children playing outside, braving the cold to make snow angels and build their first snowman.  

A series of meetings kept me from my desk all morning, and I didn’t get to see any glimpses of my lady. Looking for an afternoon pick-me-up, I headed to the kitchen and nearly bumped into Freida in the hallway.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I exclaimed.

“Hello, Mr. Boyd.”  She smiled warmly as I let her pass.

I blushed and smiled. “Uh, Nathan. please.” She gave a nod over her shoulder and kept walking.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and returned to my office. I’d been there less than 20 minutes when I heard her coming.

Freida didn’t pass by, however. She strolled right through my open door and closed it behind her. Intrigued, I removed my headphones and stared at her.

“Mr. Boyd.” She let my name hang in the air, laden with sexual tension.

“I’ve seen you watching me, you know? When I walk past your door.”  Her dark eyes bore into me.

I attempted to reply but managed only a dry croak. I shifted in my chair.   

“You like what you see, don’t you? Slowly she fingered a pearl button on her jade blouse, unfastening them one by one, revealing glimpses of ivory skin and baby pink lace.

I was captivated. The blood rushing to my crotch made me momentarily dizzy. I gripped the arms of the chair with white knuckles and took a raspy breath. Freida smiled tauntingly.

“Stand up,” she commanded.

I hesitated, then rose, shifting my weight in an attempt to hide my bulge. Ears burning, pulse thrumming in my throat and cock, I forced my gaze to meet hers.  

She strode closer, standing only a few inches in front of me. Her black eyes sparkled mischievously as she ran her index fingernail along my tie. Starting at the knot at my throat down to the tip just above my belt.

Subtle hints of jasmine and clove wafted from her skin. My hands trembled, desperate to touch her, but scared to break whatever magic spell was at work here.

“Take it off.” Freida swayed gently before me, eyes flitting between my face and torso. “Take off your shirt.”

Obediently, I loosened my tie and unbuttoned my oxford, trying to recall the last time I’d undressed in front of someone. As I pulled my undershirt off, goosebumps pricked across my skin.

Freida looked me over lustfully. She raked her fingernail along my now bare torso while her other hand fondled my dick through my slacks. I squeezed her perfect ass firmly with both hands, eliciting a squeal.  

“Mmm,” she moaned, unzipping my fly.  I caressed her skirted hips up to her slender waist, noting how large and dark my hands looked holding her.  A perfect contrast to her petite, pale fingers wrapped around my thick, black cock.

She tilted her chin up and when I planted my mouth on those flawless crimson lips my body felt electrified. We kissed hard and deep, sucking tongues and nibbling lips, like reunited lovers.

I slid the blouse from her delicate shoulders to see her perky B-cups in a pastel pink lace bra.  “My god, you are spectacular.”  

Freida giggled and wrapped her arms around me, scraping her French manicure across my shoulder blades and grinding against me.

“I want you inside me,” she whispered, biting my clavicle. “Now.”   

Wasting no time, I plopped down on my chair and pulled her onto my lap. Pushing aside the wet lace clinging to her pussy, I teased her with my engorged tip. Freida lowered herself slowly onto my cock until my balls pressed against her asshole.

Her eyes widened, and a raw, primal groan escaped her as my big dick stretched her tunnel in new ways. For a minute we stayed still, gazing at each other, savoring the sensations. Then Freida began to ride me.  

Thump, thump, thump.

The office chair groaned in cadence with her rise and fall on my cock.

Thump, thump, thump.

Creamy breasts danced inches from my face. Her dainty bra unable to contain their jiggling.

Taut, mauve nipples begged for attention.  I swirled my tongue around one, sucked it gently and then pinched with my teeth.

Freida gasped, then grinned, tugging a fistful of hair at the back of my scalp. My cock twitched inside her, and a growl erupted from my throat. 

The way this petite woman was dominating me, using me for her pleasure, made me feel drunk. Her neatly pinned hair fell about her shoulders as she bounced. I was entranced.

“Oh, yes, yes!” Freida rolled her hips each time she bottomed out on my lap. I felt her internal muscles begin to ripple.

She tossed back her head, crying loudly as her body shuddered through an intense orgasm. The exquisite sight shattered me. Clutching her hips, I thrust hard and grunted, filling her with my seed.

I collapsed back onto the chair, Freida still straddling me, her head resting on my shoulder. Her cheeks had a rosy flush, and her always exquisite lipstick was smeared about her mouth. An exemplary post-coital glow.

By Monday, all the snow had melted. Freida walked past my office several times that day, never pausing in my doorway or offering a smile. But when I came back to my desk after lunch, there was a small white gift box there. Inside, I found a miniature snow globe carefully wrapped in pastel pink, lace panties.