Did anyone else constantly see what I saw? Sat as I often was beneath the illuminated computer screen at my desk, my eyes would naturally levitate towards the strikingly s*xy male figure that would regularly stride past. I was always acutely aware of exactly where he was, his presence I found disarming and I tried to hide any sign of my constant interest. I never knew until now how some men’s charisma could be so choking, have a way of leaving you feeling maddeningly stupid and shy, but then my experience of men was pretty limited.

I wouldn’t say I was an unattractive girl, but somehow I never quite caught the attention of boys like some of my friends did. I often wondered if my frame was too petite, maybe even a little boyish. This was partly due to my lack of breasts and non-existent cleavage, I never quite felt I had the tools to tease.

I found myself regularly checking out the tall muscular frame of a certain person in the office, admiring how his clothing offered an appealing hint of what lay beneath. I loved how his well-tailored shirts would encase his torso in such a manner that I could see the shape of his defined muscular arms, ah, stop it, I would often tell myself, but then other days I would let my thoughts run away with themselves and imagined his arms encasing me. He certainly worked out, that I could instantly tell, he had that strong muscular maleness I found so incredibly alluring.

For months when he spoke to me all I could manage was a rather choked hello, or a somewhat plastic response to his often direct, albeit nice charming questions. Even answering him with just a few pleasantries caused me to blush and fumble my words. Why did he have to be here at my first most important position I had yet to have since leaving College. Over the weeks and months since I joined this dynamic music production company Black Tone, I found myself not so much caught up in the glamour of the industry, rather I became far too focused on the main man himself, the incredibly sexy Mr Anthony Gould.

I thought I needed to find another distraction in the office, I was becoming far too mesmerised by him. What was it about this man? Was it a power thing? His being my boss did bring about a certain degree of attraction, admittedly. His success was certainly up there too, his ability to seem so in charge of the moment at any given time. Unlike myself, who could only be described as a fairly new junior office worker. Although I thought I was good at my job, I couldn’t help thinking I was excelling at being completely besotted by a man who happened to be my boss. A little cliché, but there we have it. He was irresistible to me. There was one other thing too, that probably featured more highly than I thought, his beautiful black skin. I had never been with a black man before, actually never been with many men before excluding a few pathetic fumbles at college. But with Antony, his dark skin just increased my sexual imagination of him and my mind more than ever fantasied over being with him, his gorgeous darkness against my light paleness.

I didn’t know what to expect when he asked me into his house that day. It was a clear fresh spring day and I deliberately tried to dress in a casual, easy manner. Trying not to evoke any previous embarrassing comments others had made that I was becoming somewhat besotted with him. My camel colour skinnies had been praised for their flattering style on a few occasions so I felt they were the perfect solution.

It seemed as if he had noticed me far more in the office of late. It had even been noticed by Janine, my 24-year-old office co-worker, whose job was to ensure a ready supply of coffee was always on hand in his office, that more often than not I was included in meetings that really I had no reason to be in. I mean, it soon became obvious I wasn’t in the same league to offer help yet there I was on hand at his request. There were a number of occasions where I felt he had been over attentive to me, ensuring I had lunch delivered to my desk when I had seemingly forgotten to bring anything to eat, rather than watch me fumbling in my drawer for spare change for the sandwich boy. But I had to ensure I didn’t let those polite moments cause me to hope for much more.

My mouth feeling as I stood before his house, I just hoped I wouldn’t embarrass myself. Opening the door with his charismatic style I waited for a few seconds before venturing forth. Such a beautiful home, he had certainly proved very successful in the music business and appeared to enjoy surrounding himself with such fine elegance. As I walked in I am sure he must have heard me catch a gasp of breath. Did he know the effect he had on me, did he mean to allow his body to be so close to mine as we moved into the sitting room. His masculine scent was so beautifully mixed with an expensive scent reminiscent of those often breezing through the likes of Harvey Nichols.

As he showed me into the sitting room I couldn’t help but feel a different moment was taking over and I was ready to let it. He smiled, turned and looked straight at my face, his dark eyes still so warm and soft, I felt a touch of his hand and instantly knew that he held more than a passing interest in me. “I’m so pleased you could make it, I so hoped you would come in person.” He said quietly. “In fact, I had rather hoped for some time it would be just you in person.” Just those few words made my pulse take an override, and all I could utter was a seemingly crass comment. “Me too,” I said. Looking straight at him I began reading so much more into his look, I held onto the moment until he uttered, “you’re joining the company has had such an impact on me, more than you realise.”

That was what I was hoping to hear, he was aware of me, he hadn’t been blind all this time. What made me do it I don’t know but somehow I wasn’t up for chatting much, and we were in too close contact for me to not lean forward enough so our faces could touch, but it was me who grabbed the moment and I....................................
CONTINUE READING HERE: https://ugobestiky.com/2019/02/06/opposite-pleasure-story/

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