Take Maria's hand and confess that you sometimes feel inadequate compared to her experience and professionalism, asking for her guidance

You take Maria's hand between both of yours, your eyes widening with an unexpected vulnerability that catches her completely off-guard. The touch lingers—warm, intimate, and entirely inappropriate for a corporate setting.

"I know I seem silly," you confess, your voice dropping to a breathy whisper. "But Daddy says you're, like, the smartest woman he's ever worked with. He totally respects you so much."

Maria's professional facade cracks further, her fingers unconsciously curling around yours. "He... he said that?"

"All the time!" You nod enthusiastically, pigtails bouncing. "When we're in bed together, he'll sometimes say how he wishes I was more like you. More..." you search for the word, your diminished intellect struggling momentarily, "...capable. He says you run his whole life, and without you everything would fall apart."

The revelation hits Maria like a physical ****. Seven years of professional dedication acknowledged in the most unexpected way—through his pillow talk with a girl half her age.

"I feel so inadequate sometimes," you continue, eyes downcast in perfect mimicry of shame. "Like, I know how to make Daddy happy in bed—his cock gets so hard when I bounce on it—but I don't know how to be smart like you. Could you... maybe teach me? Help me be better for him?"

Maria's breath catches audibly. The combination of your crude candor, apparent vulnerability, and the subtle pheromones emanating from your skin creates a heady cocktail she's powerless to resist.

"I'm sure that's not true," she murmurs, maternal instinct battling with growing arousal. "Mr. Bellingham seems quite taken with you."

"Oh, he is!" you giggle, squeezing her hand. "He makes me come like, five times every night. His cock is so perfect. But I want to be more than just his fuck-toy, you know? I want to be smart like you, so he respects me too."

The crude language from your innocent-looking face with its freckles and wide eyes creates a cognitive dissonance Maria can't process. Her professional boundaries continue crumbling as you pull her down to sit beside you on the leather couch.

"Daddy says you've been so sad since your ex left," you whisper, leaning close enough that your D-cups press against her arm. "That's so mean of him. You're way prettier than some dumb yoga instructor."

Maria's eyes widen. "He told you about that?"

"He tells me everything," you nod solemnly. "He worries about you being lonely. We both do."

The door clicks softly, and Rick steps into his office, taking in the scene with barely concealed interest—his secretary and young girlfriend sitting intimately close on his office couch, hands clasped together.

"Everything all right, ladies?" he asks, voice husky with anticipation.

"Maria's gonna help me be smarter, Daddy!" you announce cheerfully. "And I told her how we both think she's super pretty and way better than her stupid ex's new girlfriend."

Rick's eyes lock with Maria's over your head, something unspoken passing between them—possibility, permission, desire long suppressed by professional boundaries. For the first time in seven years, Maria allows herself to look at her boss not as an employer, but as a man.

"Perhaps," Rick says carefully, moving to sit on Maria's other side, "we could continue this conversation over dinner tonight? The three of us?"

16:35 | Monday 4 Aug 2025 | Rick's Office, Bellingham Properties, London

[DADDY'S WORK WIFE] | [Medium] | [48 hrs] | [31 hours 25 minutes remaining]