Quickies

Selena Kitt Quickies

Pleasing

I never gave much thought to Miya until she was on her knees. Is that awful? I guess it is. But she was a very unobtrusive sort of woman, expedient, efficient, compliant in every way. She made the perfect legal secretary and I was certainly beyond grateful for her services. She’d managed to pull of miracles the night before client meetings I thought saints couldn’t perform, and would stay late to do them, too.

But she did it all with a sort of easy grace that left you feeling as if she were invisible, and I guess in some ways she was.

Until I found myself standing in front of her, pulling another huge law tome out of my stacks, and looked down to see her kneeling on the floor beside me. Miya was incredibly petite, probably no more than five feet tall if she was an inch-even in heels, and she wore those every day-her long, dark hair sleek and pulled back from her rounded face. I knew some guys had a “thing” for Asian girls, but I never really had a type. I was an equal opportunity lover that way-if a woman interested me, it was about the woman, not her type.

Still, in that moment, something shifted in my perception of my secretary. On her knees, her skirt riding up from her foray on the floor, her blouse open to a generous V, at least from my angle, she was stunning, and when she lifted her eyes to mine-Christ!

I think my cock grew three sizes at least. I’d never looked at her that way before. I know men say that, and most of them are lying, but for me, it was really true.

“I think I need to sit down.” I did. My knees felt like jelly, but besides that, my cock was straining to be released, and I couldn’t hide it very well in trousers.

5

“Are you okay?” She spoke with a slight Asian accent-I had no idea which one.

She was American as far as I knew. I had not inquired about her heritage beyond that.

“I guess.” I settled into my big chair-Miya called it that. I’d heard her joking with my colleagues on the phone when I was too busy to take calls, “No, Mr. Rick is sitting in the big chair, he can’t be bothered right now.” My cock ached. And it didn’t help that she came forward and pressed a small hand against my forehead, easing it around to the back of my neck. Her breasts were eye-level, the silk of her blouse touching my cheek when she leaned over to reach a water bottle on my desk.

“Drink.” She insisted, and I did, grateful for something to do, and my mouth, I discovered, had become suddenly, incredibly dry. “Maybe you’re coming down with something?”

“Just dehydrated,” I said in between swallows.

“Are you sure?” That hand again, rubbing the back of my neck. I groaned, an involuntary thing, rolling my head to the side. She smiled, her eyes softening, as she slipped behind my chair. “Ahh, that’s it then.”

Her hands moved over my shoulders, beginning what would be the best massage of my life. Her movements were sure, confident, finding all the right points to make me gasp and moan out loud. This seemed to please her.

“If I’d known you could do this, I would have paid you more,” I joked.

“Let’s call it a bonus,” she murmured, working her thumbs under my shoulder blades, her breath warm against my ear. My cock was still raging-there was nothing I could do about it.

“God, that’s good.” I groaned as she squeezed my shoulders, the strength in her hands amazing compared to their size.

“I love giving you pleasure.” It was a spontaneous statement, something I don’t think she expected to say, just a low murmur, but it got my attention. I looked back at her and saw color flooding, high on her cheeks. “I mean, pleasing you. Doing the research, finding the books you need, making sure everything is…”

“You do please me,” I insisted, our eyes locked. The heat in my groin increased from smolder to fire. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been disappointed in the five years you’ve been here.”

I was trying to keep it professional. I really was. She didn’t make it easy.

In fact, I’d swear she was trying to make it hard-in more ways than one. She came around the chair to stand in front of me, running her hand through my hair in a very un-secretary-like way. “Would you like me to please you now?” I stared, stunned. I couldn’t believe the risk she was taking. She could lose her job. Of course, she knew that. But her eyes said she knew different. She’d seen the shift in me, too, I think. Sensed or knew it somehow. I don’t know how women know that stuff.

I hadn’t had the time to answer when she sank to her knees, and I was lost. Miya on her knees had been what set me off in the first place, and now seeing her eyes turned up to me from between my thighs was more than enough to push me over any edge of uncertainty I’d been teetering on.

“I’d love it if you would,” I told her, my voice not my own, lower and pained. She smiled, her expert hands moving over my thighs, working on my zipper. My cock