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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Fantasy Games – Operation: Seduction!

  Copyright ã 2007 Celine Chatillon

  Cover Art by Carol MacLeod

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books 2007

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  Operation Seduction

  By

  Celine Chatillon

  Operation Seduction

  I could not stand it anymore. One more late night working overtime on the merger presentation project with my mild-mannered co-worker and I was going to scream—

  Fuck me! Please!

  Yes, the man was a first-class nerd, a techno-babbling computer geek, a what-have-you. But I just knew under those circular black-rimmed glasses and boyish shyness lurked the heart of a horny stud just begging to be set free. And I was the seductress who could do it. I had fantasized about letting his beast out his cage for at least three weeks now. Tonight was the night.

  I waited until seven when the last of the stragglers had departed the office for the weekend before I made my move. It was just me and my soon to be boy-toy all alone in the conference room. We had been working hard on a presentation that our boss was to give next week when the corporate merger plans were to be unveiled. My job was to handle the bigwig speeches and the handouts for shareholders. My soon-to-be-lover’s job was creating the flashy PowerPoint presentation with all the whizzes, bangs and whistles. He was also expected to handle all the meeting’s massive audio needs and create the DVD of the show to send to the out-of-town stockholders.

  I put my pen down and scooted my chair closer to his. “Kent,” I said in my sexiest voice. “I’ve been thinking…”

  “About adding those paragraphs to Mr. White’s speech on how the merger will create one strong, competitive company out of two mediocre ones?” Kent pushed his round glasses higher on the bridge of his strong, aquiline nose and typed in another line of code into his laptop. “Just remember to make it subtle. You know how Mr. White doesn’t want people to think Black and White Enterprises has been sliding into the gutter for the past few years. He doesn’t want to remind people of the employee pension plan scandal and the massive recall of our best-selling—”

  “No, that’s not what I’ve been thinking at all.” I sighed. The man could be so damn literal and one-tracked at times… Maybe when it came to sex he could be the same way? I could only be so lucky!

  Kent continued fiddling with the PowerPoint program. “If you’re thinking about adding that joke about the little Dutch boy with his finger in the dike to the intro then I’ll need to do a bit of ‘net surfing. Or I can look for a copyright free cartoon character in the clip art files to make a catchy PowerPoint slide. Some graphics of windmills and wooden shoes would help illustrate it.”

  I sighed again. That was it. Time for Plan B: The Reveal. I stood up and pushed my chair away from the conference table.

  “Stand up, Kent.”

  He frowned but continued typing.

  All right, so be it. The man wouldn’t know what was going to hit him next, but the hurricane was coming. I undid the leather belt at my waist and slid it out of my skirt loops. “Stand up now, Kent Clarke, or you’re going to be spanked like the naughty boy you are.”

  That got his attention. He looked up from his laptop screen with large blue eyes full of equal measures of fear and awe. “Excuse me? Mallory, do you feel okay? I think you’ve been working too hard on this project.”

  I snapped the belt. “No, the problem is I haven’t had you work hard on me yet. Now get up!”

  He instantly obeyed. I hadn’t planned on using discipline to have my way with the man’s lean, six-foot-four frame, but—damn it! I’d do whatever it took to get that cock of his out of his pants and into mine.

  “Good.” I kicked his chair away from the table and circled around him, sizing him up with my eyes. “I don’t want to use my whip on your baby smooth backside, but if I have to…” I licked my lips. My gaze fell to his crotch area and so did his. I smiled. Was that an erection beginning to strain against his zipper?

  “Mallory, the long hours have been getting to me, too. But we don’t have to get violent now, do we?”

  I snapped the belt for effect once more and chuckled. I stood behind him, leaned close and whispered into is his ear. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

  His breathing came harder and faster. Tiny beads of sweat dotted his brow Perhaps I was pushing the man a bit harder than necessary? I wouldn’t want to scare him so much he couldn’t perform. I decided to soften my approach. I dropped the belt and rubbed his shoulders instead.

  “Kent Clarke—what the hell were your parents thinking of when they named you that?”

  “They named me after Superman’s alter-ego, Clark Kent.”

  “I know that, silly. But didn’t they think of how the other kids in school would tease you about being named after a comic book character?” I lightly danced my fingers across his royal blue plaid dress shirt, rubbing his nipples through the thin fabric until they beaded under my touch.

  “Most of the kids at school had never read a Superman comic, so it wasn’t much of a problem. Only my teachers teased me about it.” He sucked in a shuddering breath. “What are you doing?”

  My hands automatically unbuttoned his shirt. “You seemed a little hot so I thought I’d cool you down some.”

  “Mallory, that’s not exactly the polite way you cool someone down.” He gulped hard. “It doesn’t help to cool a guy down by stripping him.”

  I undid the last button and slid the garment from his arms, exposing his lightly-dusted-with-hair, amazingly muscular chest. Whatever he felt at the moment he didn’t try to fight me. Either he was enjoying my attentions or panic filled him like a dear caught in the headlights of oncoming traffic. I decided to test him. I grabbed the edge of my sweater top and yanked it up and over my head.

  “Um, Mallory? Y-you really shouldn’t do that.”

  I reached around and unhooked my black lace bra. My breasts tumbled from their C cups, my nipples hard and pink and aching for his attention. “What shouldn’t I be doing, Kent?”

  His jaw dropped open and his eyes grew as large as saucers. Okay, I knew the man wasn’t gay—he laughed at the naughty jokes the straight guys in the office emailed each other—but he could be a virgin or bi or studying for the priesthood on the weekends. Oh, crap! I sure hoped he wouldn’t suffer a stroke or something worse due to my shocking behavior.

  “You shouldn’t be,” he gulped again, “undressing yourself in the conference room. What if someone were to come in here and see us like this?”

  “Nobody’s here, Kent.” I strutted over to the door and locked it. “And now the door is secured. We’re safe. It’s just the two of us. Just the two of us all alone.”

  I sashayed closer to him and shimmied out of my skirt and half-slip, revealing my black suspender belt and thigh high fishnet hose. I smiled as
it dawned on my blushing boy-toy that I wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  “You like what you see, Kent?” I licked a finger and slowly made circles around my areolas.

  He nodded. His glasses slipped a little, but he didn’t push them up on his nose. “You… you’re still in your high heels.”

  “I’ve always wanted to be fucked wearing heels on top of the conference room table.” I thrust out my tits and slowly stretched a leg toward him. “So… what’s your favorite sexual fantasy?”

  His ears turned bright pink. “To make love to a sexy co-worker in high heels on top of the conference room table,” he said quietly.

  Now it was time for my jaw to drop. “No kidding?”

  “Yeah.” The pinkness spread all over his face and the top of his chest now. “But I’m sort of shy if you haven’t noticed.”

  “I noticed—and I think it’s cute.” I threw myself into his arms and rubbed my straining buds against his firm, warm pecs. To my delight he squeezed me back. “I love the way you turn pink whenever I walk past your cubicle. I love the way you laugh whenever someone sends you a stupid email joke. I love how you treat everyone in the office with respect and courtesy—even slutty ol’ me who goes panty-less on casual Fridays and hopes someone will notice when I bend over to file something.”

  “I notice. And so does Doug and Brian and Stewie and Colin and Evelyn—”

  “Evelyn?” I frowned. “Does she like it the same way you guys like it?”

  “I think so. She also likes guys. She and Colin have been… seeing each other.”

  “Hmm, that explains why Colin has been trying to ask me out for the last week or so. I’m not sure I want in a girl-boy-girl threesome. I much rather be the creamy center of a guy-girl-guy sandwich.” I stood on tiptoe and kiss Kent gently on the cheek and ran my fingers through his short, straight black hair. “Sorry to talk like such a ‘ho.”

  “It’s okay. I like it.”

  “You do?” My eyebrows went up as his hands went down and cupped my round ass cheeks. I pulled off his glasses and gently tossed them on the table. “You’re full of surprises, Kent Clarke.”

  “And so are you, Mallory Jones.” He lowered his lips to mine and practically sucked out my brains with his powerful French kiss. Our tongues met and parried, tasting and teasing each other like old lovers. I hung on for dear life, pressing my curves against his taut frame. After several minutes I came up gasping for air.

  “Oh, my goodness, boy! You really can kiss, did you know that?”

  “Would you like to lie down?” he asked. I nodded. He picked me up and effortlessly carried me to the end of the long table. I lay back against the cold, hard surface and immediately had second thoughts.

  “I’m not sure this is best surface to screw on after all.”

  He settled into the boss’s swivel chair and grabbed me by my hips. “Probably not, but I’d like to try something else out.” Without another word, he plunged his strong tongue into my pussy then began to lick my clit like there was no tomorrow.

  “Ah! Yes!” I arched my back and rocked my sensitive nub closer to his lips. “It’s true! Nerds are sex experts because they don’t waste time playing sports.”

  I felt the vibrations of his laughter along my inner thighs. And here I’d thought I’d have to teach my shy, gentle giant about the wonders of lovemaking. The man was a freakin’ expert!

  He slipped a finger and then another into my cunt, stimulating my G-spot as he continued his masterful tonguing of my clit. I wrapped my legs about his ears and hooked my high heels together behind his head. My fingers danced across my breasts, stroking my nipples to hard points. The excitement of planning Kent’s seduction for the past few weeks along with the intense sensations soon had me writhing about, screaming louder than a porn queen as I came.

  “Oh, God, Superman, I’m flying. I’m soaring! I’m Lois Lane

  ! Oh, God… Yes—yes!”

  Those nimble keyboarding hands of his held my hips fast as he repeatedly plunged his fingers in deeper and faster. I came and came and came… I lost count after a while. Nobody had brought me this much pleasure before. He truly was my superhero. Kent Clarke’s parents must have been inspired when they named him.

  “Did you enjoy yourself?” He stood and helped me sit up a lifetime later or so it seemed. “It sounded like you enjoyed it.”

  “I can’t hear a thing. I’ve gone deaf from my own screams.” I smiled at his look of concern and hopped off the table. “Don’t worry. It’s only temporary. And I know just the thing to cure it.”

  “Cure deafness?”

  “Uh-huh? I just need to blow out my sinuses—and yours.”

  I crouched down in front of him in the boss’s big, black leather swivel chair and parted his legs. He blushed as I reached for his zipper and yanked his pants down to his ankles.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he mumbled. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not kidding—you’re damn fine, Kent Clarke.” I eased a hand into his boxers and worked my way to his penis. Good grief! I’d been right all along. The tall, broad shouldered man was hung like a horse!

  “Please, don’t, Mallory. I don’t have any protection on me and I’m tempted to… to…”

  “You’re tempted?” I giggled and wiggled my hand deeper into his pants. “Give in to your temptation my superhero. I’ve got protection in my purse.”

  “You do?”

  I nodded. “I’m not called the ‘Office Slut’ for nothing. ‘Be prepared’ is the motto of both the Boy Scouts as well as the Scout of all the Boys in the Office.”

  “You’re not a slut, Mallory.” He attempted to grab my wrist and pull it away from the intended target, but it evaded his grasp. “You’re just a very friendly person.”

  “Uh-huh. Very friendly. And I’m about to make friends with someone very special.” I pulled his cock out through the narrow opening. The musky smell of his sex and the shiny bead of moisture dancing on the end of his thick, red phallus excited me like nothing else. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Clarke.”

  Before he could push me away I swallowed his meaty cock head whole. He moaned and collapsed against me. After a few seconds of squirming he sighed and settled down for the ride, holding fast to my head of curly hair for dear life. I came up for air momentarily and slid my tongue tantalizingly slow up and down the shaft. I caressed his balls with one hand, all the while trying to remove his remaining clothing barrier with another.

  “No, no, don’t,” he mumbled. “We shouldn’t be undressed like this in the conference room.”

  “You shouldn’t lick my cunt on the conference room table, but you did.” I managed to slide his boxers all the way off. “Relax. Give in to your fantasies. I did and man oh man, am I ever glad I did!”

  I slid a digit up his ass and wiggled it. He squealed and then laughed.

  “Ah! They sure don’t call you Office Slut for nothing!”

  I smiled and took his length deeper into my throat. He moaned again, breathing heavily as he clung to my hair. A few more good strokes and licks and I had him shaking in his number thirteen shoes and exploding gallons of hot salty cum into my mouth.

  I pressed him back into the boss’s swivel chair then stood and wiped off my sticky lips and chin with the back of my hand. “Your super semen about drowned me, Superman.”

  His eyes popped open. “You… you really swallowed it all?”

  I giggled and hopped into his lap. I playfully kissed his nose. “Of course I did, silly. You didn’t want me to spit it out on this very expensive carpeting, did you?”

  “No, but nobody’s ever swallowed my… my…”

  “Your cum?”

  “My cock like that before,” he admitted turning red-faced. “Thank you. I can tell now that I’ve been dating some rather boring women.”

  “Well, your life is about to get a hell of lot more exciting, Kent Clarke.”

  I reached across the table and grabbed my purse, extracting a condom from th
e outer pocket. I then caught his chin in my hand and turned his face toward mine. Fire ignited as our lips parted and our tongues met, tasting, teasing, touching. His hands cupped my breasts and stroked my nipples until they stood firm and proud. He brought one to his mouth and suckled it until I screamed then followed through his attentions with its twin. We kissed again and I sighed against his lips. Slowly I rotated my body around until I sat facing him in the chair and rubbed my increasingly damp mound against his hardening cock.

  “Hmm, I really like this nice comfy chair.” I reached down to give the beginnings of his erection a hand along. “I can tell you like it, too. Wanna fuck in the boss’s favorite chair?”

  He frowned. “No, I don’t.”

  “You don’t?” I pouted. My self-esteem did a nosedive. “You want to fuck me on the carpet then?”

  “Nope.”

  Suddenly I felt horrible. My confidence evaporated. I attempted to disengage myself from his embrace. But he grasped my hips with all the strength of a superhero. Angry and hurt, I shouted at him, “Then what the fuck do you want to do?”

  He smiled. “I want to make love to a very beautiful woman in the boss’s favorite chair and on the carpet and then perhaps on the table and at the window sill and…”

  I tossed my head back and laughed. Kent grabbed an areola in his mouth and began to suckle until I squealed. “Oh, you kidder, you!”

  He sat back in the chair and turned my head to look him straight in the eye. “I’m not kidding, Mallory. I don’t fuck anyone. I make love to them. And I hope you feel the same way, too.”

  I gulped. Commitment. Was Kent Clarke talking about a steady relationship, a one guy-one gal only until “death we do part” thing? How did he discover my ultimate fantasy? My ultimate fantasy of finding a guy who was more than just a fun one night stand or a couple of dates and a movie and then a fast fuck… Suddenly I found myself blushing as pink as my shy superhero.

  “I-I do like you, Kent,” I stammered, “but I don’t know if I’m ready for a ring and the two-point-three kids and the house in the suburbs scenario just yet.”