Chioma worked for me, part of the team in the external office. I inherited her from my predecessor, and at first, I found her work to be skillful, if a little dutiful as if she always had something better to do.
But the standard of her work had less and less interest for me, as I steadily fell for the insidious spell of her sensuality. She’s twenty-two, with a well-made, but indisputably shapely figure, Wide shoulders, magnificent, but not over-large firm full boobs that are hard to ignore at the best of times, but when she’s excited, or there’s a cool breeze from the window near her desk, her nipples harden, and drag men’s eyes towards them.
Her hips are a little wider than she like, but in fact, her butt is a flawlessly proportioned counterpart to her breasts. A small bulge of belly, on her, just adds to the sexiness of the package.
She’s a black beauty and when she wears low-cut tops, there is no observable line. Then there’s her face, with its intense brown eyes, pretty nose, and a playful, angel mouth… set in a broad heart-shape, with a hint of a double chin when she laughs.
It all has a collective effect and becomes stronger and stronger with repeated exposure. Her thick, straight, shoulder-length brown hair is sometimes a curtain through which she peers at the world, or at me, challengingly.
To begin with, I ignored her pretty much; incredibly, I thought she was just another pretty woman in the office, one of several in the team. I often heard her chatter above the others… her voice higher than you expect, girlish compared to her feminine appearance.
I decided from too little evidence that her mind really didn’t attract me, too shallow, too unaware of the world around her, and that’s very important for me.
However, as the weeks past, I caught occasional, revealing glimpses of another Chioma. I discovered that she read good novels, often with a strong sexual or psychological content, as well as the bestsellers and gossip magazines that the other girls plowed through.
I found out that she spoke fluent Yoruba, passable Hausa, that she had lived in the north for a couple of years in her teens, and that she had been engaged, and broken it off fairly recently. I knew there was a new boyfriend. And all the while her beauty grew on me, steadily, sinking into the deeper layers of my psyche.
When I dreamed of her intensely one night and woke up with a raging hard-on which I had to unleash in an explosive wank, I realized I might eventually have to do something about it.
One day, I came back to the office in the evening after an hour in the bar with a client. I wasn’t surprised that the office was still open, because that was when the cleaners were usually around, working their way down from the top floor.
I wasn’t expecting to see Chioma at her desk, staring intently at the computer screen. She didn’t hear me because she had earpieces in. I was briefly confused by the way that she was typing with one hand, while her other arm moved, rhythmically, at an angle that I quickly guessed meant her hand was on or in her crotch.
I coughed loudly, and she heard me. The image on the screen changed immediately to a spreadsheet. I wasn’t sure what I’d seen. Flesh, just an impression, was all I glimpsed before it turned into columns of figures. She was deeply embarrassed, of course, and in a nervous flow of words turned it around so that I was accused of sneaking up on her.
She was guilty as hell, of something. I let her rant and kept my cool. When she stammered to a halt, I just shrugged, said the first thing I could think of, in a sarcastic voice, which was something about not thinking it was an appropriate use of company facilities… I picked up my mobile phone, which was the reason I had returned, and while she continued to feel embarrassed, I ushered her out of the building.
It set off a tension between us that led to minor friction, and on her part a kind of aggression, like she wanted to push me into reacting, or confronting her. We stayed that way for a couple of months. Sulking and flashing annoyed glances across the office.
The dreams got worse, not helped by my guess as to what she had been doing when I caught her that evening. I was convinced she had been indulging in what I had always thought of as a fairly exclusively male activity, masturbating over online porn, which was one of my own vices at that time. I hadn’t had much relationship luck lately.
Not satisfied either physically or intellectually with recent girlfriends, I had been marking time while I reassessed my life. I was just twenty-nine and realized that I had become rather picky. I wanted quality, not quantity. I wanted someone who was closer to my own tastes, beliefs, and ideals. The harder I looked, the less I found.
Chioma’s sensual image played on my all too available libido, and I indulged myself in increasingly lurid fantasies of the two of us, the sex as hardcore as my limits and tastes allowed me to go, and shamefully.
I allowed them to go further than ever before, into S&M fantasies, where I would taunt her, reprimand her, and then convince her that our needs were shared…
One Tuesday evening, not long ago, it all came to a head. After what I guessed were several glasses of wine at lunchtime, she had been idling through the afternoon, chatting too much to the girls, distracting them from their work.
And I surely wasn’t imagining the looks she kept on casting in my direction. It had been like this for a while; she knew my eyes were often on her when I looked up from my keyboard. Again, I could swear she was testing me, teasing me subtly to make sure I had really noticed her.
The level of office discipline was crumbling, and she was the one responsible for it.
Around five o’clock, as my staff became more disorderly towards home time, she looked up and caught me frowning at her, and gazed straight back into my eyes, as if to say ‘what are you going to do about it then?’ I felt a hot flare of anger, and with it, an incredible wave of desire.
She looked so sexy like that… lips slightly parted, eyes flashing, and her nipples, I couldn’t help but notice, were so swollen they were almost burning through her bra and white top.
She seemed to lag behind a little as the girls prepared to leave the office. She was searching the depths of her large handbag as if looking for something vital.
“I’ll catch you up,” she told Tope, Aisha, and the others as they left.
It was now or never…
“Chioma, I want to speak to you for a moment.” The words were off my tongue before I could even think.
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