Meanwhile, in much more exciting news, LUST: WOMEN'S EROTIC FANTASIES, edited by Violet Blue, is now shipping! Just look at that sexy cover. The image is by photographer Samantha Wolov whose work I love. Check out her site!This anthology includes my short story“The Importance of Good Networking,” an office story about a woman with the hots for her geeky tech-wizard IT bloke (yes, you heard right.) Here’s a snippet from midway through:
I plotted my moves and waited until Belinda was away for a training day, and I had the cube to myself. I’d planned in advance, wore a low-cut top, short skirt, my highest heels and my sexiest underwear to give me confidence.
His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when I appeared at his cube wall. I rested my elbows on it, leaning my boobs on top of the ledge. "Hi, Carl. I hope I’m not interrupting. I’ve got a problem with my mouse.”
I could tell he was trying desperately to prize his gaze away from my chest area. Smiling, I leaned further forward, my boobs spilling out of my top. “Do I have to fill in a form to get your attention?”
“No, definitely not.” He grinned and clutched at the edge of his desk as he stood up. “It probably just needs a new part. I’ll check it out now.”
Perfect.
He followed close behind me and as we wended our way back to my cube I felt his eyes boring into me. I gestured at the desk. He sat in my chair. I put my hands on his shoulders, stood behind him and peered at the computer alongside him. I could feel his shoulders grow taut under my hands. The sexual tension was racking up with every moment. He blinked several times before continuing. He was a loaded weapon about to blow.
Wriggling the mouse, he shook his head. “Yup, its dead. I’ve got a batch of spares back in my cube. I’ll fetch one now.” Reluctantly, he stood up, one finger adjusting his collar as he glanced over me again.
Oh, the sweet combination of arousal and discomfort was too good. “You’re the expert, but I should probably mention it happened before and Belinda found the connector had dislodged.” This time I’d ensured that the connector had dislodged. “Maybe you should check that first?”
“I guess I should,” he replied, while his eyes dropped to the floor. He was staring at my shoes and feet in a kind of mesmerized trance.
After a moment, I gestured under the desk with a smile. He got down onto his hands and knees, giving me a look at his tight buttocks. Nice. When he crawled under the desk, I sat back down in the chair, trapping him in there.
Leaning down, I flashed him an eyeful of cleavage. “Take your time,” I murmured.
He shuffled around and his whole body jolted when he caught sight of me. His head whacked the underside the desk and it shuddered. “Shit. I mean, sorry.”
I bit my lip, containing my urge to chuckle. “Is it okay if I sit here while you are underneath…?”
“Yes…please do.”
I sat back, easing the chair in and shifting my legs nearer him. Even through my stockings, I could feel his breath hot on my skin. I had got him well and truly trapped. Rubbing one calf with the toe of the other foot, I noticed that it was very quiet under there. It was working. I moved my legs into different positions, sometimes brushing against him. Not a sound or a move came from underneath the desk, but the intense heat welling from under there was the signal I needed. Taking a deep breath, I pushed my swivel chair back, lifted one stacked heel up and pivoted it on the edge of my desk, flashing the underside of my thigh and stocking tops at him.
He was scrunched in the same position, his eyes glazed as he stared up at me in disbelief. He didn’t look like he was trying to go anywhere in a hurry, in fact he hadn’t budged since I’d sat down.
My pulse was racing. “Is it okay down there for you, Carl?”
He gave a hoarse laugh. “Yes, I’m um… just admiring the view.”
Brave. And now that he’d bitten, it was all systems go. Our very own network was up and running. “You can touch me if you want to.” I could hear voices in the distance outside the cube, but they were fast zoning out, my attention fully harnessed.
With hardly a second’s hesitation, one hand reached for me, but it was the foot still on the floor he went for. Stroking it with his fingers, he moved slowly over it, then under its arch and around its heel. With tentative fingers, he stroked the top of my foot with such adoration, that my head drop back and my hands gripped the arms of my chair. I’d hit gold! The man was a pure sensualist. He slipped his fingers around the back of my ankle and lowered his head to kiss the toe of my shoe. What a rush! Sensation shot the length of my leg; my pussy prickled with anxiety, needy for contact. I had to hold tight to stop from squirming in my seat.
He ran his mouth up my shin, and then kissed my knee. Using both hands, he stroked my inner thighs, reverently embracing my stocking tops. I was starting to tremble. Tension and need thrummed just inches from his hands, and he was closing.
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