Power Play: Kelsey and the Executive (4 page)

Still
nothing. Five o’clock came and went, and there was no answer from DUX217. She
called up his last message, reading it again:

Go the
men’s room after everyone goes home today and leave your panties in the trash. But
first I want you to go into one of the stalls and touch yourself while you’re
wearing them. It’s your turn to come for me, Kelsey.

It was after
five. The office had finally cleared out, most of the employees in a good mood
after the Lockheed meeting, which was a good sign. Or maybe they were glad it
was Wednesday—hump day—just two more days until the weekend.

Kelsey clicked
“reply” and typed:

“I am
going to go to the bathroom to touch myself, like you asked. I need to know who
you are. Tell me your name.”

She clicked
the “send” button and her heart lurched when the window popped up: Message
Sent.

Kelsey
stood, scared at the thought of what she was about to do. Her thighs felt
moist, and she knew her panties were soaked, with no stockings to help absorb
her excitement. It had been in the back of her mind all day, what he had asked
her to do.

She stood,
heading through the entryway, wondering if she was going crazy. She was
completely lost in thought when she went around the corner, heading towards the
restrooms, and ran into Matt. Literally—into him. His briefcase went flying,
and she bumped her head against chest.

“Matt!” she
cried, rubbing her forehead.

He grunted,
grabbing her to keep her from falling. “You okay?” he asked, squeezing her
upper arms as he set her fully upright. “No broken bones?”

“I’m okay,”
she confirmed, enjoying the feeling of his arm sliding around her waist. She
looked up at him and smiled.

“Hey, I
heard you were causing trouble with your stripes.” He grinned, his eyebrows
going up when he saw her bare legs.

“Oh— laundry
day.” She giggled. Actually giggled. She was reduced to acting like a teenager
around him! She looked into his face, trying to discern any change in his
expression. Was it him? It had to be him! And here she was, without the
stockings that had attracted his attention in the first place…

“Well, for
what it’s worth, I liked them.” He winked, reaching for his briefcase. “Where’d
they go?”

“Oliver
didn’t like them.” She flushed, remembering that afternoon in his office.
“Against company policy you know.”

“I think we
should make exceptions for stripes,” he countered. “Oh, and fishnets.
Definitely fishnets.”

She laughed.
“Are you trying to get me fired?”

“Live
dangerously, Kels!” He touched her nose with the tip of his finger, winking
again, giving her that same, dazzling, salesman smile.

Both of them
jumped, startled, when the conference room door next to them flew open, Oliver
standing there, looking furious.

“Are you two
quite finished?” he barked, frowning at the startled look on their faces. His
voice dropped a little in volume when he added, “I’m trying to work in here.”

“Me too.”
Matt recovered quickly, patting his briefcase. “Ran into Kelsey here on my way
down to consult with accounting.”

“Literally,
ran into…” she added, knowing how breathless she sounded. Her face felt hot.

“I noticed,”
Oliver mumbled as Matt turned the corner and headed toward the elevator. Oliver
called after him, “Oh, and Mr. Roberts?”

“Yes, sir?”
Matt turned, pushing the down arrow button, a smile playing on his lips.

Oliver
stared him down. “A change in company policy won’t be forthcoming in regards to
female attire.”

“Yes, sir.”
Matt gave him a little salute, but he winked at Kelsey. “Be careful coming
around those blind corners, doll...”

He was gone
before either of them could say anything else.

“Damned
flirt.” Oliver frowned, still looking after Matt.

“He’s a salesman,”
Kelsey reminded him, looking after him too, lost in thought.

“It’s one of
the things that makes him such a good one.” Oliver looked back at her, his expression
pensive. “See what I mean about magnets?”

She nodded.
“Yes.” Boy, did she.

“Goodnight,
Kelsey,” he said softly, and she noticed he was looking at her legs, no longer
clad in striped stockings. Was he thinking about this afternoon too? “I trust
we’ll have a better day tomorrow.”

After Oliver
closed the conference room door, she slipped into the alcove between the two
restrooms, bending down to take a drink at the fountain. Her throat was dry and
her heart was still racing.

She stood
suddenly, staring at the men’s room door. Is that where Matt had come from, she
wondered. She looked at her watch. It was getting very late. Maybe he had
gotten tired of waiting for her? Had he been waiting? Was he waiting, still? Using
the excuse about accounting to kill time? Was he waiting for her to finish and
leave her panties, so he could come back and get them?

The thought
made her knees shake. She carefully pushed open the men’s room door, glancing
over her shoulder, wondering if Oliver was watching through the long glass
panel beside the conference room door. It was two-way glass—he could see out,
but no one else could see in.

She slipped
into the men’s room quickly, praying Oliver wasn’t watching, calling out a
soft, “Hello?” No answer. She walked over to the stall that he had been in
yesterday—her mystery interoffice messenger—and let the door swing open. He was
right here, she thought. Cock throbbing and hard in his hand... thinking about
her... coming so very hard.

Who,
Kels?
Who
was in here?

That was the
question, wasn’t it? Who was DUX217?

She slipped
into the stall, closing and locking the door behind her. She hiked her skirt up
to her waist, not even bothering to tug her panties down. Her pussy was soaked,
had been soaked since he first sent that message to her, telling her what he
wanted her to do. And, in all honestly, they’d gotten even more wet during her
little disciplinary session with Oliver that afternoon.

What was he
going to do with her panties, she wondered, fingers probing between her lips.
Her juices were sticky and thick. Would he lift them to his nose to smell her?
Try to taste her? Kelsey moaned softly, her nipples hardening under her blouse.
Was he going to touch himself with them?

For that
matter—what had Oliver done with her stockings?

Everyone
seemed fascinated with and focused on her wardrobe.

She slid her
hand over her panties, rubbing the crotch deep between her slick pussy lips.
They were black, thankfully, little black bikini panties with a black cotton
inner crotch that soaked up her juices like a sponge. The same panties Oliver
had seen when she’d pulled up her skirt and pulled down her stockings, she
remembered, flushing with heat. She wedged them between her lips, moaning when
her fingers brushed her clit. It was swollen and aching for release.

“I’m
touching myself for you,” she whispered, not sure who “you” was, not caring, spreading
the silky material tight over her clit with two fingers. She slid her other
hand down, using just her index fingernail, she began to scratch her itch.
Faster and faster over that little nub, back and forth,
scratch scratch
scratch
.

She could
barely stay standing and leaned her forehead against the stall door, her breath
coming in hot, quick pants. Her finger was pressing now, rubbing her clit in
circles, her pussy pulsing, beginning to throb. Close. So close.

“I’m gonna
come for you,” she moaned, hips bucking against the door, her whole hand
scissored between her legs, shoving her panties deep between her sopping pussy
lips. Her orgasm seared through her and she faded into the black for a moment
and nearly collapsed with the pleasure of it. She caught herself by leaning
into the corner, staring breathless and gasping up at the ceiling.

When she
could manage it, she wiggled her panties down, carefully taking them off and
slipping her shoes back on without having to stand barefoot on the tile floor.
Without anything under her skirt now, she slipped out of the stall, dropping
her panties in the trash on the way out.

The office
was quiet. Too quiet. But she knew he must be waiting, somewhere.

Who?
Who’s
waiting?

Back at her
desk, she grabbed her purse and went to shut her computer down. Instead, she
clicked the message program and opened it. Maybe he’d responded!

No messages.

She called
up his last message, needing to read it again. She sat for a moment, lost in
thought, her eyes skipping to the words
panties
and
come for me
,
remembering her orgasm, feeling a thrilling rush of shame knowing she’d left
her underwear in the men’s bathroom trash for someone else to find. It made her
feel dirty. And excited. It was the same feeling she had this afternoon, taking
her stockings off at Oliver’s command.

Smiling, Kelsey
turned off her computer and headed for the elevator, in quite a hurry now. She still
had to stop at Victoria’s Secret and buy a pair of fishnet stockings on the way
home from work.

*
* * *

When Oliver stepped off the
elevator, Kelsey looked up in surprise from her computer. She’d come in very
early to check, of course, but there had been no messages. Instead of going
straight into his office, Oliver approached her desk.

“Good morning, Oliver.” She
smiled, crossing her legs under the desk, feeling incredible heat between her
thighs. The anticipation and excitement of DUX217’s message about her abandoned
panties had her practically panting with lust.

“Can you tell me why I had
fifty copies of the Lockheed numbers given to me during our meeting yesterday?”
he asked quietly, putting his briefcase on her desk and popping it open.

Her stomach lurched as he
removed a stack of papers. She had hoped this wasn’t going to come up. She’d
seen him, although briefly, after the meeting, when he’d come out of the
conference room to interrupt her conversation with Matt. Why hadn’t he
mentioned it then?

“I sent the
memo like you asked.” She swallowed, remembering the box that had popped up on
her computer. “
Message Sent to All Employees.
”

“Kelsey, I
got them from
everyone
. I had fifty people waving papers at me when I
asked for the numbers, and Helena Lockheed looked at me like I had three
heads.”

“I’m sorry,
Oliver,” she apologized, remembering the long line at the copier after she’d
sent out her memo. “I think I sent the memo out to everyone by accident. It was
the new interoffice message system. I hit the wrong keys.”

“You have to
be more careful.” He sighed. “What if that had been sensitive information?”

“I’m sorry,”
she said again, biting her lip. “On the bright side, at least you know that
everyone reads your memos and does what you tell them to do.”

“Good
point.” He gave her a lop-sided smile. She had never noticed how his face
changed when he smiled. It wasn’t something she saw very often, but she liked
it. It made him look younger, even boyish.

“Thank you.”
She couldn’t help smiling back at him.

“Well we
kept the account anyway,” he conceded with a sigh. “Helena Lockheed’s off my
back for another two years.” He pulled a file folder from his briefcase,
putting the other papers back. “Can you run this over to personnel for me?”

“Of course.”
Relieved that her mistake hadn’t done too much damage, Kelsey stood, taking the
file folder from him and starting toward the elevator.

Oliver’s
voice stopped her before she could push the button. “Kelsey.”

“Sir?” She
turned to face him and saw his gaze focused on her legs. He had that look
again, the same one she’d seen when she was wearing her striped stockings. She
was wearing a black jacket and skirt today, a white blouse, standard office
fare—but her stockings were fishnets, the kind with the seam up the back.

Oliver’s
gaze swept upward and he met her eyes. “Was I unclear yesterday?”

“No sir.” The
heat that filled her body when he looked at her was almost unbearable. She felt
faint.

Oliver
opened his door. “Come into my office.”

“Yes sir.” She
followed him, shutting the door behind her.

“Lock it.” He
stood beside his chair, taking off his suit coat. His words made her mouth go
dry, but she did what he asked, pushing the button and hearing it click.

She stood
with her back to the door, hands shaking, not so sure about her decision to
defy the company dress code again now that she was faced with her boss as he
loosened and removed his tie, his gaze still on her.

“Do you know
why I like selling insurance, Kelsey?”

She shook
her head, confused by this sudden change of direction.

“I sell
illusions. It’s a magic trick.” He unbuttoned his top two buttons, enough that
she could see the dark edge of his chest hair. “Do you like magic tricks?”

She nodded.
“I guess.”

“Of course
you do. Everyone likes magic tricks.” He unbuttoned his cuffs, leaving the
links on the desk, rolling up his sleeves. “Come here, Kelsey.”

“Do I have
to take my stockings off again?” She approached cautiously.

“We’ll get
to that.” He sat down in his chair, slipping off his shoes, and she stared at
his black socks, disarmed by the sight of him in stockinged feet.

“Stand
here.” He pulled her between his thighs, snugged up until she was wedged there,
looking down at him. “In this office, I’m the boss. I have all the power.”

She nodded,
seeing the way his gaze followed the edge of her unbuttoned jacket, down the
buttons of her blouse.

“But
remember, it’s all an illusion.” He lifted her skirt and made her hold it at
her waist, giving him a full view of her in her white panties and black fishnet
stockings. He leaned in and grabbed her calf, cupping it in his hand and
lifting it so her black pump rested between his legs on the chair. She grabbed
onto his shoulders for balance and he smiled, his hand moving over her ankle,
her shin, her thigh.