Monday Evening
It was late and the rest of her employees had left for the day. When she had graduated with a master’s in literature from college, Giselle had never thought that in just six or so years she would be heading up Booking and Reeder’s editing department. Her job was to read and make liner notes on the romance novels that the company produced and sold. It was usually somewhat boring, rather like correcting English papers for twelfth graders.
The last two novels from this particular author had been pure trash. A slut who runs around showing off her cooch to everyone and getting her pussy regularly wrecked by some well-hung stud of the month is not literature. She wasn’t trying to be “judgy” about it. She was the last person who could criticize someone who had wild ideas about sex and romance. There had been parties and wild nights out club-hopping, wet t-shirt contests and amateur competitions at strip clubs where she’d brought back cash prizes that paid for her dorm room.
Giselle was no cardboard cutout like this woman; but in stories like this, it’s not always about a woman’s character so much as her vital statistics. Weight, height, bust size, is her coochie shaved? In spite of the sketchy two-dimensional characters, the author had a knack for getting his reader horny as fuck, which sells books, and which makes money for publishing houses. Lately, Tisha Scarletti, heroine of six Drake Pierson novels was getting a lot more action than she was. Something had to give.
The many sex scenes of the horny heroine didn’t offer the reader much in terms of advancing the story, but they were very hot and steamy. They were very much having an effect on Giselle. Several times in the last month, reading this author’s work while staying late in the office, she had allowed herself to diddle her lonely coochie to a tortured orgasm.
She stood up from her desk and stretched for a moment. It was twilight outside the large window which made up the outside wall of her cozy office on the third floor. She studied her reflection in the window; a lovely face with hazel eyes looked back at her. Stretching her body like a cat, she undulated upward, brought her hand up behind her neck and released her chestnut brown hair from the tight bun she wore for work.
Giselle had been athletic most of her life, even now she went to a health club three times a week. It showed. Her body was shapely, smallish waist and ample breasts that were firm and just about perfect. Rounded hips curved into a tight pair of cheeks; her bum was just as pert as her bountiful breasts.
She unfastened her blouse, then unclipped her strapless bra at the front; the lacy garment fell away, and her boobs came into view. Her office was still well lit, and she thought about the window as she put her hands over her nipples, the warmth of them sent excited tingles through her body. Not for the first time, she wondered: would someone be able to see her from the street or the building across the way? There were still a few lights in the windows opposite; could someone, some man be watching now?
As these thoughts went through her mind, she left her hands to wander over her upper body. While one caressed her breast, the other slid down her flat stomach into the waistband of her skirt. When her fingers touched the top of her panties, she slid them inside it.
There was no pubic hair on her pretty pink pussy. It was warm to her touch and her fingers worked their way between her soft labia. Her mind brought up the last scene she’d read in the novel, where the heroine had been sexed up in a dimly lit crowded bar. The girl in the story had allowed herself to be stripped, fondled and fucked while the other barflies sat by and watched.
Thinking about this and the possibility of a hunky man watching her, she pulled her hand out of her panties; like every other time she got caught up by this author’s sex scenes, she needed to strip off for someone, anyone. With the window as her avid audience, she pulled the zipper on her skirt and let it fall. Then still wearing her thigh-high hose and peep toe pumps she pulled her panties down and off.
She took another step toward the window and let her hands drift back to their chore of arousing erotic feelings in her body. Her fingers quickly found their way back to her pussy uncovering her slightly hooded clitoris. She gasped inwardly, mmm, yes. I need this. She stroked her clit slowly from the bottom up, that was the way. Yes that’s the way. Nice, oh so, oh oh... Her body seized upward from her toes and her head fell back and then the second one started to come. Oh, God yes, oh god, oh, oh, oh. The most beautiful look settled over Giselle’s flushed face, her breath came raggedly as one, then another orgasm poured ecstasy through her naked body.
************
Two men stood in a dimly lit room watching Giselle in her office on two of many monitor screens on the board in front of them. They’d seen her strip off her prim gray suit and let her hair down; seen her little sex-capades.
“She’s gorgeous. I’ve seen her around the building; I thought she was some chronic virgin, but this is extraordinary,” one man said. “So, is this the one you’re promoting? I thought it would be a bit of low-hanging fruit, attractive of course, but you know, a secretary or clerk.”
“Giselle Turnbow, she’s the manager in the editing department at the publishing house on the third floor. Isn’t she beautiful?” Ted gazed at the stunning image on the monitor, in awe at what he’d found. Perfect.
“Look at how she’s influenced by the character in the novels she’s reading. She wants to be the girl who’s taken, the heroine of a sexy romance novel. She’s perfect. Watch,” Ted Havlicek said to the other IT guy. “I’m about to pull her in.”
**********
Back in her office, Giselle’s hands were working her into a frenzy. Her fingers knew the territory well, from a lot of recent activity, in the privacy of her office at night. Privacy? she thought; she was standing in front of a window with an office building across the street. Were there two shadows in that window? Yes, because now a third had joined them! OK fellas. You got lucky tonight.
Her desktop computer buzzed loudly and startled her; she had an incoming e-mail. She turned away from the window. Not worrying about her skirt on the floor, she strolled over to her desk, and sat down. Wondering what was up with this ridiculous computer, she clicked her mouse to open her desktop. She moved the mouse over to the message icon and right-clicked it to cancel. When she turned to get up, her computer pulled the cursor back to her E-mail box. She clicked the mouse to cancel again.
A moment passed then another and the message window popped open showing all her e-mails, a new one was on top of the list. She read the address, Giselle Turnbow, Porn Actress. Hmm, someone’s idea of a joke; she wondered if it was a person she knew, maybe someone from her wild past. She moved the mouse over to close the window. The cursor arrow jumped out of her control and zipped back to the new e-mail.
Whoever it is he’s persistent she thought. Hmm, let’s see how impatient he gets. Again, she started to turn and get up from the computer and the cursor jumped again, this time to the intercom app. The light on her desk phone started to blink, she reached over to key it, then stopped and sat back. It kept blinking, then the damn phone actually rang.
This was getting interesting. She reached over and keyed the intercom on. “This is Giselle, can I help you?”
“Open the e-mail, Giselle.” The speakers on her computer were awful and the voice was mechanically altered. Should I play along? she thought. Had she gotten herself a super fan? Or a sicko stalker? Hmm. One way to find out. She clicked on the e-mail in question. A layout of photo thumbnails was displayed.
“I interrupted your sexy little moment to offer you something. Specifically, these pictures, click on them, look at them. It’s a lovely compilation.”
Giselle didn’t know if her tormentor was a man or woman. When the first thumbnail enlarged Giselle saw herself naked with her hands on her bare coochie her head thrown back in ecstasy. She clicked on the next one; new pose, different angle, but obviously captured tonight. Interested now, she swiped through the photos as if she were viewing a profile on Twitter.
“As you can see,” the garbled voice went on, “there are differing camera angles. Click on #11, the next five are all from under your desk. You have some lovely panties. And a beautiful pussy.”
OK, he’s got an under-desk cam, very resourceful. Definitely a man. He obviously had a few images of her; who knew how long he’d had the cams in her office? There could be a pretty sizable gallery of her nude and pleasuring herself at work after hours. She got a bit of a rush in her pussy; a little trickle of her juices started to form at the top of her neatly shaved hot box. It was almost like he was a mind reader; she had just wished for someone to see what she was doing, watch her play with her superb naked body. Like it used to be.
So, was it super fan or stalker? She needed to know more. “How did you get these? You’ve been watching me?”
“Isn’t that why you never close the blinds all the way, Giselle? Isn’t that why you were at the window just now in all your naked glory. You put on a nice show, lover. You're exciting to watch.”
“What do you want? I don’t have much money to pay for these, if you’re thinking of that.”
“No, it’s not money, honey. You are what I want. I want you naked on my desk. And I’ve got you. Almost seventy images and four video clips in the last month or so, all stored in a locked gallery on a popular porn site,” the voice announced.
“You’re a stalker and a pervert.” Giselle hurled at him. “You hacked my computer and put cams in my office. You wanted this pretty badly didn’t you? Or were you just rando flipping through the office building cam footage looking for naked women?”
“There was a selection process, you were one of about ten in the office who fit the profile. But you are twice as fucking hot as any of the rest,” he went on. “You remember I said I had an offer for you?”
“Yes, I’m not stoned or anything. What’s your name first?”
“Te, uh no. I mean Tom.” This was going a little different than Ted figured it would. But she was a lot different from what he thought the list of ten candidates would yield.
“OK Te. Is that spelled tee ee or tee aa?” Giselle asked, toying with him.
“Tom it’s Tom,” The man now known as Tom said.
“Ok, Tom. You have an offer. Tell me about it.”
“There's an opening for someone of your qualifications. It will mean leaving your management job. But they are offering a very nice contract. And your gallery on the porn site will remain stay locked.”
“A very nice contract.” Giselle commented. "And the gallery stays locked up. So, there's money and a new job?" She let her legs drift apart beneath the desk.
“Jesus, that’s nice.” He blurted in reaction.
Obviously, she’d made an impression; he’d already said she was one of ten, number one in fact. He had managed to get quite a few cams in her office, probably some IT incel and probably in this building, or across the street? She knew how to handle the nerds from her college days.
“Are there more details? Let’s hear it,” Giselle said as she idly twisted a lock of her hair around a finger. "I’m just sitting here in just this blouse, letting you ogle my nude body. I made no move to put my clothes back on or even to pick them up off the floor. I’m being compliant, let’s hear what you have to say. How is that under desk view, Tom?”
She started to sway her knees back and forth, opening and closing her legs. Very deliberately, she adjusted her blouse off her shoulders completely baring her beautiful breasts. Her pussy was on fire. It must be glowing, she thought.
“Tom?”
*********
Havlicek switched off the com and looked at his client. He needed to think. This wasn’t quite the way he expected this to go. This did not fit the profile that he had made; her severe attire of well-fitted suits, her habit of wearing her hair in a no nonsense tightly wrapped bun.
“Jesus Ted! Why did you say you were me? Dude!" the IT guy yelled at Ted.
"Sorry Tom. It just... I had to think fast. Sorry," Ted consoled his office assistant. "Don't worry I'll fix that later. She's kind of not what I expected. This is going to be very interesting. Very interesting."
"I'll say. What did you find? The CEOs are going to go nuts!"
He thought she would be a little more shocked at the image gallery and maybe feel threatened. Instead, she was very composed and very confident. He had apparently made an err on her profile. It would prove to be a very lucky one. “I think they're going to be satisfied," Ted said.
“See if you can get her to start playing with that pussy again.”
*********
The air in the room was electric, Giselle was aroused and horny and she wanted this Tom guy to watch her because it was so hot that someone was watching. She wanted him to tell her to touch herself. A boyfriend long gone had a tone with her that clicked an erotic switch on, and she had a need to obey the wishes of her sensual guru. Tom was making that tone and it drew her in.
“Tom, everything OK? Do you want to give me the four one one or no?” Giselle asked him, getting somewhat impatient. “It’s already late, and the show is over. I like what I'm hearing but I'd like to hear more.”
Another moment passed in silence, then, “There’s so much I can offer, lover. I can show how your sexy longings can ignite not only your own passion and decadence but your deepest desire to expose your wanton carnality. Do you want to have men fawning over you, treating you like a hot lusty object of desire and sensuality, Giselle?”
“I like pretty speeches; did you write that? OK, yes to all the pretty things. What else?” Her fingers were working their magic on her aroused pussy, she let one slide back between her labia.
“Your wardrobe will have to change to be more revealing, so that you can display some of your hidden assets,” his voice went on.
“What kind of changes to the wardrobe? Display my hidden assets, that sounds like fun.” His suggestions were charging up her libido; another finger joined the first and she slowly drew them up to her swollen clit. A tiny touch and she arched again, and exhaled a tortured breath, "I am totally turned on by what you're doing right now."
"Giselle, what are you doing? Take your hand away from your cooch. Now!" he commanded her tersely.
"What? I'm sorry." Giselle took her hand away, surprised at her own reaction. Tom had touched a tiny nerve that responded immediately, and the editing manager was suddenly very anxious and alarmed.
"In your offices or the building at large, I will tell you when you can play with yourself or have an orgasm," he demanded.
The desire to show off her body had always been in her going back to childhood on her grandpa’s farm when she would walk back from an afternoon swim naked carrying her soaking wet clothes. Then back in her college days, it was her second boyfriend Andre who had unlocked the exhibitionist in her. He would entice her to put herself on display; to go bottomless in the library stacks, or flash other students her naked cooch in the cafeteria. Tom had managed to get that tone through to her in spite of his altered voice. “Oh, oh. OK. Uhm.”
“No, it’s not OK, Giselle. It’s yes Tom, or no Tom. I don’t expect to hear no often.”
“Yes, Tom.” Now Giselle was really worried. He was commanding her now and she was drawn into obeying him. She silently retracted her statement about handling the college nerds. Still there would be rewards if she did her part. Hot sexy rewards.
"Put your hand on your thigh. Leave it there," he told her.
“You don’t know how erotic that is for a woman to hear in an instance like this. Go ahead. Tell me how you want me to touch myself, use your words.” Every nerve in Giselle's naked body was tingling, she squirmed with delight at what he evoked in her.
"So, you will receive an e-mail with instructions and a list of dos and don’ts. No slacks, pants, or shorts at all. Skirts and dresses should be short, tight and form-fitting to allow more of your legs to be seen. The stockings are perfect, continue to wear the stay-ups.”
“How short should the skirts and dresses be? I’m guessing above the knee but how much above the knee? Mid-thigh? Higher?”
“Higher than mid-thigh.”
Giselle made a low whistle. “So, way above my stocking tops. How much higher? Four inches? Six inches?” She had to admit she liked his style. Just show it, baby.
He hesitated a moment then blurted out, “Six inches.”
“Hmm, my lower hidden assets fully on display? That’s very liberal. Why wear a skirt at all then Tom?” Again, his words were having an effect on her cooch. She squirmed in her chair as a bit of her juices leaked out and ran down into the cushion.
“Well, there will be occasions, when uh... That will be addressed later. I guess three inches then."
“Tom you’re cute. I’m guessing you don’t have a clue about women’s skirt lengths, but ok, three inches above my stay ups.” The skin under her palm was tingling, she needed to touch herself, and soon. Come on Tom, let me come.
“As to your blouses and tops. First off, no more bras except under special circumstances.”
“Check on that. I only wear them here because it’s dress code, but I guess we’re changing mine for now.” She squirmed again, trying to rub her hot box against the cushion cover, getting very desperate for release.
“Yes. Blouses should be sheer and have all buttons completely removed so that they hang open during work hours.”
“OK, I like that, but again Tom, if my breasts are already exposed in the sheer blouse, what’s the point of it hanging open all day? Also, why don’t I just go topless during work hours, it will save on dry cleaning.”
“There will be occasions for that also. I mean to be topless.”
“Buttons Tom? Let me offer a suggestion. Any blouse that’s a little opaque, I will remove all the buttons from, sheer blouses I’ll remove all but the two at the very bottom. They will still gap and hang open. That OK?”
“OK, I’ll see that gets in the instruction e-mail.”
“Tom, I’m getting the gist of it.”
“OK, good. I want you to go in that bottom drawer where you keep your toys. Take out the vibrator you hide in there and set it on the desk," he said and she did as he asked her.
"So, do I get a reward now Tom? You know how hot and bothered you have me," Giselle cooed. "Tom?" Talk to me Tom. Make me do what you want.
"Not yet there's still some things I need to cover with you."
"Why don’t you send me that e-mail; we’ll go over it together.”
“Hmm, OK.”
Her e-mail icon blinked, and she went to open the new arrival. “Looks like a rather detailed list. I think you’ve covered six or eight items so. Here, number ten. Oh! Let me read this one. Any clothes or shoes received as gifts must be changed into at work, as directed. You should strip down naked before putting on any of the gifts, excluding some of the shoes. Some of the shoes, Tom? Do this where your exposure will be maximized. In front of your office window or in the outer editing office, in one of the building lobbies or in the parking garage.”
“I think you get the idea. Read the e-mail at your leisure. We can wrap this up in a few more minutes here.”
“Oh, I like this one. Dresses may be sheer or slightly opaque. As with blouses, buttons should be removed from any front closing dress. We’ll go with the same deal on buttons that we have on the blouses OK?” Going through his demands was having that effect on her. He was getting her hot and bothered and she wanted to put her hand back on her hot pocket.
“OK,” he said.
“Sounds like I will be walking around nude. Is that where this is leading?”
“That will definitely happen. Let me give you your instructions for leaving tonight. Oh, and then there’s one more thing.”
“All right, shoot." Giselle listened for the words she needed to hear.
"Sit back down. Please take the vibrator, switch it onto medium and insert it slowly into your sweet pussy, now."
Giselle's eyes widened at his directive. She let a smile appear on her face as she took the long, dildo-shaped vibe and switched it on. "Are you watching Tom? I wish I could see the under desk cam view. Is it making you hot and flushed like my honey pot is now?"
His confident tone soothed her, "You are very sexy and very fuckable Giselle. You would make any man or woman want to do bad things to you."
"Sometimes, you have to be bad to be good. My boyfriend told me that, oh. Oh, yes." The vibe slid easily between her wet labia, the thrumming wand whipping up her ecstasy. Sensual bolts of pleasure coursed up her torso. "I hope you have this on split-screen. Oh, Tom. Tom, I'm going to pop. Say something dirty Tom. Say I'm your private slut."
"If you're that close, count your orgasms. No more than two, then you have to stop."
"Oh, Tom no. Not this time, don't stop me now."
"I'm going to let that pass, but never tell me no. Count them," he demanded again.
Erotic energy was pulsing up higher, she cupped a breast with her other hand and gave her nipple a hard pinch. Then her whole body convulsed upward, "Mmm, one."
Too quickly then her body convulsed again, her pussy flexed almost pushing out the vibe. She jammed it back into her feverish love tunnel, and held it there. "Oh, oh tom. Oh, my god oh, ah ah ah." She gasped a fevered breath, her chest heaved, her hips bucked. "Oh! Oh God! Oh, yes oh yes, yes. Two. Oh, fuck me two. Oh. Don't make me stop."
"Stop Giselle. Breathe. Take the vibe out. You're done."
She relaxed. It wasn't fair. Only two for what he'd started tonight. But oh, she was all in now, and it was going to be fucking fantastic where he took her.
“So, I want you to take your skirt, your panties and bra and put them in the bag in your wastebasket.
"You want me to leave the office in just the stockings, shoes, and blouse?” She was still horny but very mellow.
“Hmm, that's very pro-active Giselle. No, you may wear your jacket. Leave the bag with your clothes on your reading chair by the window. When you get home check your e-mail again. And get some rest, I’m going to keep you busy tomorrow. Oh, almost forgot, get a manila envelope and put your thong panty in it. Leave it and the bag of your clothes on the desk."
A lot of thought had been put into tonight Giselle realized. Wherever Tom’s project was leading her to, it promised some very sexy, hot adventures. If this was going on at work, he had approval at the highest level. He hadn’t said as much yet, but she suspected he was just in charge of grooming her, then she would be handed off to whoever was backing this very naughty scheme. She wondered if Tom was attractive, it made her think of her hot love pocket. A small laugh escaped her, and she put her hand to her mouth to cover it.
"Such a sexy payoff. And there's more to come?" Giselle asked.
"Yes, so much more. So much more. Read your e-mail, we'll discuss more details later," his voice explained. "You're going to love what's coming, Giselle."
************
The company parking garage was across a midtown street connected to the office building by an all-glass pedestrian overpass just one story above the always slow-moving traffic on Hill Grove parkway. Anyone walking on its span was in perfect view of everyone passing on the road or the broad sidewalks underneath.
Giselle was walking bare bottomed across the bridge wearing her blouse, the suit jacket, charcoal black stay-up stockings and her peep toe shoes. She had just made a compact with a devil and this half naked stroll was her signature act to seal the deal. The logo from a website she’d seen made her think about what her last boyfriend Ken Gregory would think if he saw her.
About halfway across the crystal-clear bridge she heard horns honking, she chanced a look downward not wanting to acknowledge the sound. Then she saw them, small crowds of people looking up through the bottom of the bridge. Some were shocked, many smiled, the people on the street gazed up at her naked form walking on air above them like a naked nymph.
They started calling to her to stop, and she smiled, remembering the catcalls of the frat boys at the bikini and wet t-shirt contests back in her college days. The first week at college, pledging her sorority, had been spent going topless or bottomless up and down Fraternity House row on sexy treasure hunts. The night of the induction ceremony at rush week's end, she’d been given an award for The girl most likely to party naked all night.
Her little walk down memory lane made her decide to turn around and take another stroll for the crowd watching below. She walked back to the office building entrance to the bridge and removed her suit jacket. Now she took a slower pace as she ambled above the men and women jamming the street below her. Traffic was at a dead stop and drivers had stepped out of cars to catch video on cell phones.
When she reached the center of the bridge, she twirled on her toes and then putting down her things, flipped a cartwheel to the cheers of her fans looking up at her. She resumed her slow stroll across the bridge, bowed from the waist, then walked through the garage doors. Tom you lucky boy, you have no idea what kind of pandora’s box you opened with your under-desk cam! Giselle thought wickedly.
