You try to be too naughty, and get caught...

Time seems to slow as you ponder your choices, your mind racing through how you want to tease Warritch. Your hands run over your body slowly as he mixes the drinks at the far end of the room, replaying the words you were told before you took this assignment:

'...he seems to have a bit of hostility towards attractive women. We believe Mr. Warritch may be experiencing urges that could lead him to sexually **** or **** one of our employees... we need to help Mr. Warritch work through his desires in a way that is not harmful to anyone else and does not cause him to feel remorse.'

Your skin tingles as you think about how his eyes have never left your body since you entered the room. How their focus sharpened when you unbuttoned and took off your shirt, following your chest as it heaved with every breath beneath the flimsy tank top, how he looked up your long legs to the short skirt. A shudder runs through you as you can only imagine what he's thought about doing to your perfect body.

A current runs through you again as you think about doing more then just taking off your underwear. What if you....you can barely make out the thought without shivering with excitement as he continues to fiddle with the cups and ice, and you wonder if you have the courage to go through with what the deepest, darkest part of your mind wants you to do.

Which is to give him more then just your underwear.

You slide his chair away from the desk slowly, turning it towards him as you make sure he'll take enough time for you to pull this off - and, to your (and his) good fortune, he's finished a drink without turning around, and is starting to mix another one.

"Don't fiddle with my things!" he shouts, not bothering to peer back as you unzip your skirt, letting it slide into your hand as you toss it into the desk drawer, and you flop back into his chair carelessly, crossing your legs which are now totally exposed to him in your thong.

"Nice chair." You grin, and he mutters, making your heart stop as he glances around briefly, but not at you - he's obviously looking for some other mix for his drink.

You stand up and walk towards him, your heels clicking in the floor as he continues to obsess over his new beverage, sliding the tank top up your slim body until you are barely a few feet away from him, never breaking eye contact with the back of his head even as the top passes over your head, and you carelessly toss it back to the desk, not bothering to see if it landed in the drawer (which it does, amazingly), leaving you in a black bra and panties with this mean, aging executive bending over a counter a few feet away.

If he could see you, he'd want to bend you over, as your hands to behind your back to unclasp your bra. "You almost done, Montgomery?" your voice teases as the bra unhooks.

"Yes." He replies, and you are now just a couple of feet away from him now as your bra easily slides off of your arms, your hands clasping it over your ample breasts as you close your eyes, briefly lost in the fantasy of him turning around, ripping the bra from your hands, tearing your thong off and spreading your legs wide as he....

His quick movement almost makes you jump as you retreat to the 'safety' of his desk, dropping your bra in to the drawer as you slide the thong down your legs, sitting back in the chair as you sway them in front of you before you let them join your flimsy coverings in his desk, sliding it closed, the excitement pulsing on your skin, making you not notice the 'click' as his desk drawer locks, sealing your clothes away.

He's taking another drink, and you unabashedly swing the chair towards him, your legs spread wide as your hands run over your thighs. "That must be some drink..." If he would turn back now, he would see your entire body spread for him, masturbating in his work office, and as you see he's pouring another one, you decide you'd better get back to reality and put your clothes back on.

You swing the chair around, pulling at the drawer, expecting it to slide open. At the first sign of resistance, you start to pull it harder, but then remember that Warritch might turn around and see you, and then the jig's up. Desperately, you stand up, knowing you can't make a run for it in just your heels, when you spy the red shirt you haphazardly tossed away earlier.

As quickly as you can without arousing his suspicions, you grab the shirt and slide it on, deciding you can probably get back to Heather that way. However, after getting 3 buttons done, your hands are pulled to your sides, and you're spun around to the lecherous stare of Montgomery Warritch, whom you can't help but notice isn't holding any drinks.

"Stupid slut. You didn't bother to see why I was taking so long over there? Obviously you didn't notice the mirror..."

You turn briefly to the counter and notice the small circle mirror where Warritch was, and realize that he could see everything you were doing, that he saw you strip, tease him, and masturbate in his office chair, and the growing current of fear in you is exceeded by the excitement of knowing his lust has overpowered him now as he pushes you towards the nearest wall, spreading your legs wide before him, his eyes on your embarrassingly wet pussy.

With a flourish and a snarl, he pulls at your shirt, the buttons coming off as he pulls it off of your shoulders and tosses it away, pushing your thighs even further as you fall back into the couch. His aged skin grates against yours as he quickly unzips himself, and he pulls your thighs towards him as you feel his fleshy organ probing at your entrance.

While you're stronger then him, his anger and impatience overpower you as he bats your flailing arms away, and with another pull and push he enters you fully, and starts thrusting in and out. Your continued **** attempts to get him off of you only allow him to grab your arms and pull your torso to his, and your breasts and chest are squished against his shirt and suit jacket as he slobbers all over your mouth and cheeks, kissing and tasting you like you're an ice cream cone.

A fully naked ice cream cone being dominated and molested by a fully clothed fifty year old man as he starts slamming you, occasionally banging you into the wall, using your body for his pleasure.