Ben
“Sorry, I forgot my pen,” the woman says, and scurries into the office. She heads straight for my desk and reaches for the bright pink pen that’s sitting on top of a sheet of paper. “Silly me.”
She turns to go, but I can’t have that. This woman is tall, curvy, and drop-dead-fucking-mine.
“Wait.”
She turns around, a look of surprise and confusion on her face.
“Is something wrong? What is it?”
“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” I tell her, standing up. I hold my hand out. “I’m Ben.”
“Ben…” She looks at my hand warily, and for a second, I think she’s not going to shake it. She’s nervous, almost scared of me for some reason, and I’m not sure why. Eventually politeness and good manners win, though, because she takes my hand and shakes it. “Nice to meet you,” she says. “Alice.”
“Alice….Cherry,” I say, glancing at the paper on my desk. “And I see you’ve completed all of your paperwork.”
“Yes,” she agrees. “I was told to go to HR and then here, and now I’m off to a marketing meeting.”
“Ah, yes, the Monday marketing meeting. ‘Triple M’ for short,” I say. She tries to hide a snicker, but it shines through. Oh yes, the Monday meetings for that department are notoriously dull and notoriously useless. What they think they’re accomplishing, I’m not sure. It sure as hell isn’t bringing in new clients.
“Well, I should go,” she says.
“I’ll take you,” I jump up, scurrying for the door.
“That’s not necessary,” Alice tells me. “I’m sure I can find it.” She hesitates, though, as if she isn’t quite sure whether she can or not, and I smile because I know exactly why she’s acting like this.
“Natasha warned you off of me, didn’t she?”
“Come again?”
“Natasha. The receptionist from the 8th floor. Red hair. Pin-up clothes. It was her, wasn’t it?”
“She may have,” Alice says slowly.
“Natasha doesn’t like me.”
“And why is that?” Alice raises an eyebrow. “You seem perfectly reasonable to me: just your average guy trying to do his job, right?”
“Trust me, love,” I lean down, whispering in her ear. “There is nothing average about me at all.”
I stand back up, straightening to my full height, and I motion for the door.
“Shall we go?”
“Yes,” Alice squeaks out, and I know my words have had an effect on her.
Good.
She’s good enough to eat, and I plan to do just that. I want to spread her out on my bed and just take my time devouring her mind, body, and soul. I’ll start with her pussy, though. That’s the best place to start.
We walk in silence to the elevator, and once we’re alone, she turns to me in a huff.
“You shouldn’t have said that to me, you know.”
“Said what?”
“That you’re not average. That’s…that’s not appropriate for a workplace environment.”
“Being above average isn’t appropriate? Why, I thought we were all supposed to do our very best.”
“You know what I mean…” Her voice trails off.
“No, I’m afraid that I don’t, Miss Cherry. Why don’t you explain it to me? Are you implying that I should lower the caliber of my abilities?”
“Well, no, but…but that’s not what you meant! We both know you were talking about your…about your…”
“About my?”
“About your…” She nods her head toward my crotch, and now I’m the one acting shocked.
“Why, Miss Cherry!” I hold my hand to my mouth. “Are you insinuating that I was discussing the size of my cock? With a woman I’ve only just met? How low is your opinion of me?”
She blushes furiously, and the bright red of her face contrasts with the blonde of her hair. She’s got very pale skin and it reddens beautifully, brightening. I can only imagine what the rest of her will look like when it’s red. Would Alice’s bottom turn a beautiful shade of pink when paddled? What if I used a flogger? Would her creamy thighs turn red for me?
I’m hard at the thought, and I hope she doesn’t look at my crotch again, or she’ll definitely notice. There’s no way for me to discreetly adjust myself here in the small elevator, so I simply stand still, staring straight ahead, saying nothing as we move.
Eventually, the doors to the 8th floor open and we exit the elevator. Natasha looks up at us and her jaw drops, but she’s on the phone and can’t say anything to Alice. Good enough because right now, Alice is all mine. I show her down the hallway, past the offices, and to the conference room at the end of the hall.
“Here we are,” I tell her.
She looks at the room and then back at me, as if she can’t quite believe I’ve brought her to the proper place. What kind of girl is Alice Cherry that she’s so suspicious of people and their motivations? I can’t tell if no one has ever been nice to her before or if she’s just cautious around men.
“Here we are,” she repeats. “Thank you, Ben. It was nice of you to show me the way.”
“Anything for you,” I tell her, and then I turn and walk away, striding down the hall. I can feel her eyes on the back of me, but I don’t stop, I don’t turn around, and I don’t slow my pace.
Alice Cherry is like a delicious cocktail: pretty, sweet, and best enjoyed slowly.
There might be an office policy against dating fellow Blossom Falls employees, but that’s never stopped me before, and Alice Cherry?
She’ll be mine.