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When I got the idea to write a couple of erotic stories about different kind of women, I soon realised they had to be independent and not afraid to go after a man. Sometimes it’s just fun when a woman knows what she wants and goes out to get it.
In my series Wanton Women at Work there’s a secretary who is certain her boss wants her, but he’s too much of a gentleman. That’s no problem for Alison, because one night, when he’s alone in his office, she knocks on the door to ask if he’s hungry…
Then there is Susanna, the artist model who sees the obsession in Leo Houghton’s eyes and she makes it very clear the attraction is mutual.
And what about the journalist who follows the sexy soccer player into the changing room? Or the professor who gives up her control to a total stranger, who’s a bit of a rough trade, because she trusts her own judgement?
The stories are pure erotic in nature. No reading between the lines here, and no subtle references to what might happen behind the closed bedroom door. This is sex, sex and more sex.
Care for a taste of the first story, Alison Does Overtime? Adults only, please.
For the second time that day, Alison knocked on the door of Marc Greenwald’s private office. On her way to her place of work, she had stopped by a local delicatessen to buy the best sandwich either side of the ocean. If bringing him a little something to eat was a cheap excuse to get his attention, at least it was of the highest quality.
She entered the room, not waiting for him to invite her in. “I took the liberty of bringing you your favourite sandwich. I thought you might be hungry… Wow.”
Wow, indeed—because however she had expected he would greet her and her culinary offering, it had definitely not been sitting in his leather office chair with his pants crumpled around his shoes and his cock in his hands. His very erect and impressive cock. No, scratch that—his downright huge cock. How big was that thing? Alison wasn’t a virgin by anyone’s definition, but what she saw there was definitely something else. Would it even fit?
Hell, yeah, she’d made it fit. She had wanted him for a long time. Now she would do anything to have that glorious piece of manliness inside her. Her belly almost ached with need and she became very aware of how wet she was. Perhaps the scent of her excitement would even override that of her perfume, and he would guess without much effort what she wanted from him.
She put the paper bag with sandwich on the corner of her boss’ desk. And promptly forgot about it.
Marc Greenwald kept staring at her, his hand stopped in mid-motion. “I wanted to relax a bit before I went home,” he mumbled.
“You don’t own me an explanation, Mr Greenwald. What you do in your own office after hours is not my business,” Alison managed to say with a voice that sounded much calmer than she actually felt. Silently in her head, she added, but I would love to help you to feel much better than you’ve ever felt before.
“’Mr Greenwald’, when I’m talking to you with my dick in my hand?” He chuckled. “I can’t help but notice the dress. It’s not something you would normally wear to work. Despite your hot and sexy appearance under that tasteful and boring female white-collar uniform, you actually are a hundred per cent professional. The past months have convinced me of that fact. That teaches a man to respect a woman’s brain, even if she does have gorgeous tits and an ass to go bankrupt for. To be honest, we don’t pay you what you’re worth.” He grinned. “I also happen to notice you’re not wearing a bra right now.”
Alison walked closer. “Just my bra, Marc?” Slowly she pulled up the hem of her dress until her neatly trimmed bush became visible. “I have something here that big boy of yours might be interested in.”
“Show me the complete picture?” Marc pumped his hand slowly up and down his shaft. “This has become a sort of routine over the last months. Work, work, work—and right before I go home jerk myself off over a selection of fantasies involving the best secretary any firm could hope to hire.”
“That’s so sweet.” Alison reached behind her back to lower the zipper. The dress dropped on the floor, leaving Alison with only her stilettos and a hint of perfume. “And now that the cards are on the table, which fantasy would you like to start with?”
I bundled the stories about the four Wanton Women at Work and they are now available for the price of one single story, $0.99 here: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MT3GWDA
Or at the Amazon store of your choice.
My blog: http://ellalaurance.wordpress.com/