“Cath? Has someone been into my office?” he asks.

I love it when he calls me Cath. It is short for Catherine. It’s because I am special to him. “No, sir, why?”

“No reason, resume your work," he answers, looking a bit disheveled.

He probably found the picture of my breasts I put in the drawer of his desk this morning. He’ll never suspect it’s me. I’m the perfect assistant, always in control, professional, and well put together. He doesn’t know that under my pristine pencil skirt and buttoned shirt, I wear sexy lingerie, including a garter belt and stockings. I do it all for him.

I observe him from my desk. Mr. Brooks, CEO of the company, is the hottest man alive, from his gorgeous brown hair with silver streaks to his muscular body in well-tailored suits. I have the best job in the world, attending to all his needs. Well, not all his needs, I guess. But I dream about the day he will bend me over his desk and fuck me raw. Or I imagine bringing him his morning coffee, getting on my knees under his desk, and giving him an amazing blowjob while he has his online meetings. A girl can dream, right? But I’ve got time. Until he takes my assistant function to the next level, I’ll enjoy the view from my desk and be the best assistant I can be.

At the end of the day, I clean up my desk. Mr. Brooks likes it when everything is tidy. We are the last ones in the office. He is also packing his stuff to go home.

“Good night, Mr. Brooks,” I say, sultrily.

“Good night, Cath,” he answers distractedly.

I linger for a moment, not wanting to leave his side, but I’m also desperate to go home to masturbate. The presence of this man makes me so incredibly horny. And I know I can’t get too aroused. It happened at my last job. I had to move and get a new identity after that. So inconvenient.

“See you tomorrow, sir.”

“Yes, tomorrow," he mumbles.

When I arrive home, I feel so heated, feverish even. When the door closes behind me, I instantly start unbuttoning my shirt. I feel that if I don’t undress quickly enough, the clothes will burn right off my body. In record time, almost everything is off, except my garter belt. I can’t seem to unclasp the hook in the back. I’ll leave it. I can’t wait a second longer. I quickly push the pile of clothes on the floor away with my foot and lie down naked on the fireproof carpet.

I fondle my fingers in my hair and let my hands glide over my face, down my neck until they end at my breasts. Everything I touch leaves a warm, simmering trail. I cup my breasts and squeeze them. I start playing with my nipples, rolling them through my fingers, pinching and pulling them. I moan.

The candles in the house spring to life. The soft glow in my living room changes the atmosphere. I feel like I’m gonna burst. I let my hands slide further down until they reach my smoldering core, aching to be touched. Oh, I’m so wet. I envision Mr. Brooks’ cock. I bet it is beautiful, big, and so so hard, leaking a bit of pre-cum at the tip. I think about that amazing dick filling all of my holes, one by one.

Flames of desire lick my skin. Little beads of sweat cover my body and evaporate as my body temperature rises. I feel flushed all over, burning up, my skin turning into one erogenous zone. Every touch and caress stirs the fire within me. The pinnacle of heat is my pussy, a blazing inferno of need. I stroke myself, circling my clit. My breathing becomes heavier, my moans turn louder. My fireplace lights up, the flames dancing wildly.

I visualise Mr. Brooks’ hands all over me, fisting my hair, while he pounds me relentlessly. It ignites me even further. My skin starts glowing, lighting up the whole room. The garter belt catches fire, while I rub my clit harder and harder. I feel like molten lava. I can’t take any more. “Mr. Brooks!” I cry out desperately, and I come, shattering completely while I am set ablaze, my body engulfed in flames, like a living torch.

As I come down from my high, the fire goes out as well, leaving me as a pile of smoldering embers, already feeling my skin cool off slowly. “That’s much better,” I say to myself, relieved. I get up and dust the ashes that once were my garter belt away. Too bad, it was my favourite one.

On the carpet is a scorch stain that is still smoking. I definitely need to get a new fireproof carpet. I can’t afford to get another house. At this rate, I’ll burn through my savings just as fast as I burn through my clothes. While I clean up everything, I pick up my wet panties. Perfect. A new gift for Mr. Brooks tomorrow.