The younger man at work

Sophie is a successful professional woman and has a team of project managers reporting to her. She always keeps work and pleasure separate but on this one occasion made an exception but she still wonders if it was the right thing to do.

Patrick was young and enthusiastic. Sophie first encountered him as an intern. He was bright and capable and she was not surprised when he was offered a permanent role; she had no problem with him joining her team. Despite her diminutive stature and pretty, girl next door, looks she was a forthright confident leader at work and some men ( a lot of men) had a problem with that. Patrick didn't and that was unusual in a young man finding his way in business. He managed to avoid the stereotypes and fitted in well, quickly becoming quite a trusted lieutenant.

He was good looking too, in shape (they saw each other at the gym occasionally) and dressed immaculately, always on trend but tasteful. He had a cute bum as well, but she was careful not to get caught admiring him. She was a professional after all, keeping her distance as a manager should. But a woman is only human after all and it didn't hurt to look, and sometimes pictured Patrick in her mind when her husband made love to her.

The work of her department went in fits and starts. Periods of calm, almost quiet, punctuated by intense periods when mergers or acquisitions dictated long hours, with the team doing whatever it took to get things over the line. 'Work hard, play hard': at those times they socialsed together to bond and prevent burn out. The whole team pulled well together and they partied well, too, drinking into the early hours at times.

Relationships between staff were frowned upon but she knew it happened, although she was careful to keep her distance. Patrick was especially close to Annie on her team. She was not surprised: she was intelligent and cute with a neat blonde elfin haircut and a tiny little body to match. Her personality sparkled when she was with Patrick and she would not be surprised if they became an item. However, one day it suddenly became cool and distant. She couldn't help feeling secretly pleased (was she jealous?) but also a little sad. They had been good for each other.

Sophie and Patrick gradually spent more and more time together, becoming the ones that would finish things off in the office at night (he stood very close to her sometimes and she could smell a delicious aftershave) and often the last to leave the bar at the after work drinks sessions. Naturally, they flirted occasionally in the bar, but she always kept a professions distance, tempting though it might have been after the wine and cocktails had flowed.

On this occasion, though, she felt her guard down a little . He looked great tonight and had been great, engaging company. They were the only two left in the bar but were sat up close when they talked, thighs touching under the table . She didn't feel like moving away though and her mind wandered as Patrick explained some of his new ideas. Up close he was even better looking, if possible, and she noticed he had nice lips. She wondered what it would be like to kiss them. "I must be drunk", she thought, "maybe we should leave" ( her mind had flicked to those lips kissing her elsewhere).

"Ok", he answered and, to her horror, she realised she had spoken those words out loud.

Often when they left the bar they would walk part of the way home, getting an espresso at the smal Italian bar to finish the night off before she caught a cab back to her waiting husband Tonight they were disappointed: the bar was closed.

With a shrug she turned to Patrick to say 'goodnight' but he offered her a coffee. He was awkward, realising how it sounded, but explained he had a brand new expensive machine that he was eager to try out, and although 'it sounded bad' to ask her back for coffee he 'didn't mean it like that'.

Shr smiled ('shame he doesn't mean it like that' ) and agreed but qualified it: she 'must get home to her family at some time', to remind him, if it was needed. It was a stupid thing to say, in a way, at 1 in the morning.

He walked her to his place. She was surprised it was so nearby, he'd never spoken of where he lived. It was a large, imposing property that he shared with several people. She was a little embarrassed when she saw that some of his housemates, all men, were still up, talking in the lounge. She felt awkward, an older professional woman in such company, she just hoped they didn't recognise her as his boss, and Patrick picked up on this, offering an alternative: he would bring the coffee to his room if she didn't mind that. Or she could go . He didn't mind. He understood.

It's only a coffee, so she ageed and followed his directions to walk upstairs to his room. He stood at the foot of the stairs a while and she wondered if he watched her, flattered, in a way, knowing she looked good in her business suit that clung the her slim body like a glove. She couldn't resist a subtle sway.

Patrick's room was spacious and well appointed but a typical young man's room. Lots of tech. Some posters and picture that reflected a healthy heterosexual interest, she was relieved. Some discarded clothing. The bed messy and unmade. There was a sofa to sit on, before a coffee table , but she was wary of the low height. It might be compromising to sit there in her short skirt! Accordingly, she made herself comfortable on the bed, smoothing it out a little.

It must have looked like she was patting a space, she realised, as he smiled and sat behind her with the coffee. The coffee was good: intense without being bitter. He smiled engagingly and they continued where they left off in the bar. She relaxed in his company, her mind conjuring up images as he talked, and she found herself relenting . He really was good company, quite attractive. Tempting.

His hand moved to her knee at one point and she didn't remove it. They continued talking and he got closer. Soon her eyes were in his lips again and she couldn't help it. She kissed him. Mid sentence.

He hesitated and she thought she'd done the wrong thing, overstepped the mark, but his smile, the way he returned her kiss and moved his hand up under skirt told her otherwise.

Things moved on so quickly from there. The kissing was passionate (he was such a good kisser!) and his hands explored her eagerly. In no time at all, her skirt was raised and his hands were all over her silky black underwear. Her jacket was pushed back and off and her white silk blouse parted, popping a few buttons in the process. She was worried about her small boobs but was was reassured by his enthusiasm as her bra was pushed down and away as he sought to feast on them. Her little pink nipples peaked under his attention and she lost herself at that moment, feeling a warm glow between her legs. 'God, I want him'

She felt him stand and, opening her eyes, saw him before her, his hands on her shoulders. A healthy bulge in his expensive designer trousers. She didn't fully know his intentions but she took the matter into her own hands, unzipping him and pulling his hard cock free from his shorts.

It was a beautiful cock: long and slender and smooth., with no foreskin. She ran her hands along it, lovingly, looking up into his eyes, and moved from the bed, kneeling on the floor before him. She knew how this must look, being his boss, but realised it turned her on to kneel before him like that and put her hands on his cute firm bum as she lowered her mouth over that smooth cock.

Patrick moved his penis slowly in and out of her mouth while pushing her blouse fully off. Her bra was similarity quickly discarded and soon she naked but for her black panties, kneeling before him, his hand on the back of her head as he used her mouth.