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I was almost panting. I put the puppy on the floor and motioned her to come to me by holding my arms out like she was a child. “I forgot,” I told her, letting my arms fall when she ignored them. “Go put it on and show me.”

Much to my delight, the unpredictable little gem did it.

She rolled her eyes and called me a sex fiend, but she fucking did it.

I didn’t realize that’s what was happening until sometime later when she appeared in my doorway in the mesmerizing getup. She was even wearing heels, real ones, the spiky kind.

I studied her more. Her hair was down and tousled, bedroom style. She even had on a hint of makeup, mascara making her gorgeous doe eyes even deeper to drown in, her lips shiny and pink.

I didn’t say anything for a good five minutes, and she just stood in the doorway, shoulder leaned against the doorframe, hand perched on her hip sassily, and let me.

It was a treat. I saved the contested part of the teddy for my final perusal, studying the missing crotch of the garment. It was hard to see the finer details from across the room.

I crooked a finger at her. She tried to strut to me, but it was clunky, a bit clumsy, in the heels. That was so adorable to me that I could barely sit still and let her come all the way to my chair. I wanted to pounce.

When she got closer I started to reach for her, but she wagged a finger me.

“No touching before lunch. There have to be some rules in this circus of an office.”

I was looking at her cute little sex, exposed by the lack of material. “Define lunch,” I said succinctly, looked up at her, and ran my tongue over my teeth.

She walked away. “Something that happens at noon,” were her retreating words.

It took me fifteen seconds to follow her into her office.

She was already sitting down in that getup and looked to be working like normal.

I studied her desk, moved to it. She had a few things situated in the space underneath it that blocked my view. I moved them, went to the sofa I’d bought for her (so I could comfortably harass her more often), and checked the angle. After a beat, I dragged the low couch to within a few feet of the desk.

She caught what I was doing and started laughing. “As long as you get your word count, I guess.”

I smiled at her fondly and left to get my laptop.

I worked there for a few hours with a perfect view, only occasionally having to ask her to open her legs a bit when she slipped up and shifted them closed.

“You’ve turned sexual harassment into an art form,” she mused.

I pretended that was a compliment. “Why, thank you. You’re too kind.”

“How’s your productivity level?”

“Hmm?” I asked, just staring at her. I licked my lips. “Open up a bit, cupcake.”

She parted her legs for me.

“You’re so surprisingly cooperative sometimes,” I told her with great affection. “It’s really a treat. Will you touch yourself?”

“After lunch, perhaps. For now you just get to look.”

“I’d just be looking if it was you touching yourself,” I pointed out. “But fine. Open wider and drape your leg over the arm of your chair.”

She did it, and I broke out in a hard sweat.

I pulled off my shirt and took out my dick. I was in a state.

“Put away the live ammo there, muffin,” she remarked like we were having tea.

I put my errant cock away, but it wasn’t easy.