23-09-2024, 09:48 AM
Supratim's grin widens at her reaction. "Now, why don't you read through this file? Don't stop until you've finished all fifteen pages."
As Anita begins to read, Supratim slides closer, his aftershave filling her senses. The scent is intoxicating - a heady mixture of sandalwood, musk, and something uniquely masculine that makes her pulse quicken. His presence overwhelms her, the heat from his body radiating against her side. His lips brush against her neck, feather-light at first, then with increasing pressure. Anita's breath catches in her throat as he traces a path from the sensitive spot just below her ear down to the junction of her neck and shoulder. His tongue darts out, tasting her skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
Supratim's breath is hot against her ear as he whispers, "Is this what you were expecting?"
His teeth graze her earlobe, sending shivers down her spine. Anita tries to focus on the file, but the words blur before her eyes. She's acutely aware of every point of contact between them - his thigh pressing against hers, his chest brushing her arm, his lips on her skin. His tongue traces the delicate curve of her ear, dipping into the shell before swirling around the sensitive lobe. She bites back a moan, her fingers tightening on the edges of the file.
Supratim's hand comes up to cup the other side of her face, turning her head slightly to give him better access. His lips move to the sensitive spot just behind her ear, sucking gently. The sensation sends jolts of pleasure straight to her core.
"Answer me, Anita," he murmurs against her skin, his voice low and commanding. "Is this what you've been thinking about? What you've been craving?"
Anita remains silent, desperately trying to focus on the document, though the words blur before her. Her boss’s deft hands move to her breasts, cupping them through the fabric of her navy blue dress. The heat of his palms seeps through the material, sending shivers down her spine. At first, his touch is gentle, almost teasing. He kneads her breasts softly, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, which harden instantly despite her best efforts to remain unmoved. Anita bites her lip, struggling to maintain her composure as waves of pleasure course through her body.
When she doesn't respond verbally, Supratim's demeanor shifts. His grip tightens suddenly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her breasts. He squeezes roughly, the pressure bordering on painful. "Nnnnggghhhh!", Anita can't help but let out a yelp, a sound caught between a gasp of surprise and a moan of pleasure.
The conflicting sensations send shockwaves through her system. The pain is sharp and immediate, making her breath catch in her throat. But it's quickly followed by a rush of arousal so intense it makes her head spin. Her nipples, already erect, now ache for more attention. "Hnnghhh... Ahhhhh..." Anita's breath comes in short, sharp pants, punctuated by soft whimpers of need.
Supratim maintains his firm grip, massaging her breasts with a possessive fervor. Each squeeze sends jolts of electricity straight to his employee’s core. She can feel herself growing wet, her thighs clenching involuntarily. "Mmmmmppphhhh... Ohhhhh..." A low, guttural moan rumbles from deep in Anita's throat, her body responding instinctively to Supratim's rough handling.
"Look at you," Supratim murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Trying so hard to resist. But your body betrays you, doesn't it?" His fingers find her nipples through the dress, pinching and rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation is almost too much to bear. Anita arches her back involuntarily, pressing her chest further into his hands.
"Is this what you've been thinking about? What you've been craving?", Supratim demands to know.
"Yes," Anita finally gasps, admitting her desires.
Supratim smirks, satisfied. "Keep reading," he commands. "And don't you dare look away until you've finished every word." As Anita struggles to concentrate on the file, Supratim's hands roam freely. He hikes up her dress, fingers dancing along her inner thighs. His touch is maddening, alternating between gentle caresses and firm gropes.
"You have no idea what I have in store for you," Supratim whispers, his breath hot against her ear. "By the time this trip is over, you'll be begging for more." Anita shivers, both terrified and thrilled by the promise in his words.
Supratim's hands eventually move to the zipper of Anita's navy blue dress, slowly dragging it down her back. The cool air hits her skin, sending goosebumps across her flesh. With practiced ease, he peels the dress down her shoulders and arms, letting it pool around her waist. His eyes rake over her form, now clad only in a lacy white bra and the bunched fabric at her hips.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the edge of her bra strap. Anita shivers at his touch, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Supratim reaches behind her, unhooking her bra with a deft flick of his fingers. He slides the straps down her arms, letting the garment fall away to reveal her bare breasts.
For a moment, Supratim simply stares, drinking in the sight of her exposed form. His gaze is hungry, almost predatory, making Anita feel both vulnerable and incredibly aroused. Then, without warning, he leans in, capturing one of her nipples between his lips. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, alternating between gentle licks and firm suction. His free hand roams her body, tracing the curves of her waist and hips, fingers dipping teasingly beneath the fabric still bunched at her waist.
"Mmmph... Ahh..." Anita moans, arching her back to press herself more firmly against Supratim's mouth. Her hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as waves of pleasure wash over her. The sensation is achingly familiar, yet thrillingly new. Unbidden, thoughts of her fiancé flood her mind - the way he would lavish attention on her breasts, teasing her to the brink of madness with just his tongue. The comparison only serves to heighten her arousal, guilt and pleasure intertwining in a dizzying cocktail.
Her eyes glaze over, the words on the page before her blurring into meaningless shapes. She's barely made it past the second page when Supratim's hand slips beneath the waistband of her panties, his fingers seeking out her heated core.
"Focus on the file," he commands, voice husky with desire.
Anita bites her lip, desperately trying to stifle her moans as Supratim's fingers explore her slick folds. He slides one finger inside her, then two, curling them to hit that spot that makes her see stars. A moan escapes her lips, sounding so much like the ones she'd make for her fiancé that shame and arousal war within her. Her boss spreads her legs wider, positioning her on the edge of the berth. His thumb finds her clit, circling it with maddening precision. Anita's breath comes in short gasps, her hips rocking against his hand of their own accord. She's leafing through the pages now, no longer even pretending to read, just desperate to finish so she can give in to the pleasure building within her.
Without warning, Supratim increases his pace, fingers pumping in and out of her furiously. Anita's world narrows to the sensations between her legs, her impending orgasm building like a tidal wave. Unconsciously, her hand moves to his crotch, feeling the hard outline of his arousal through his trousers.
When she orgasms, it's with a cry that she muffles against her arm, her body shaking with the force of her release. As the aftershocks subside, reality comes crashing back. She's half-naked, her dress bunched around her waist, breasts exposed, save for her engagement ring glinting on her finger. Her boss's hand is still buried between her thighs, fingers nestled beneath the hem of her hiked-up dress. Her own palm remains pressed against the impressive bulge in his trousers, feeling the heat and hardness of his erection through the fabric.
Anita's chest heaves as she struggles to catch her breath, her nipples still painfully erect in the cool air of the train compartment. The contrast between her state of undress and Supratim's fully clothed form only heightens her sense of vulnerability and shame. Yet, even as guilt begins to creep in, she can't deny the lingering sparks of pleasure coursing through her body or the persistent ache of desire deep in her core.
As Anita begins to read, Supratim slides closer, his aftershave filling her senses. The scent is intoxicating - a heady mixture of sandalwood, musk, and something uniquely masculine that makes her pulse quicken. His presence overwhelms her, the heat from his body radiating against her side. His lips brush against her neck, feather-light at first, then with increasing pressure. Anita's breath catches in her throat as he traces a path from the sensitive spot just below her ear down to the junction of her neck and shoulder. His tongue darts out, tasting her skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.
Supratim's breath is hot against her ear as he whispers, "Is this what you were expecting?"
His teeth graze her earlobe, sending shivers down her spine. Anita tries to focus on the file, but the words blur before her eyes. She's acutely aware of every point of contact between them - his thigh pressing against hers, his chest brushing her arm, his lips on her skin. His tongue traces the delicate curve of her ear, dipping into the shell before swirling around the sensitive lobe. She bites back a moan, her fingers tightening on the edges of the file.
Supratim's hand comes up to cup the other side of her face, turning her head slightly to give him better access. His lips move to the sensitive spot just behind her ear, sucking gently. The sensation sends jolts of pleasure straight to her core.
"Answer me, Anita," he murmurs against her skin, his voice low and commanding. "Is this what you've been thinking about? What you've been craving?"
Anita remains silent, desperately trying to focus on the document, though the words blur before her. Her boss’s deft hands move to her breasts, cupping them through the fabric of her navy blue dress. The heat of his palms seeps through the material, sending shivers down her spine. At first, his touch is gentle, almost teasing. He kneads her breasts softly, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, which harden instantly despite her best efforts to remain unmoved. Anita bites her lip, struggling to maintain her composure as waves of pleasure course through her body.
When she doesn't respond verbally, Supratim's demeanor shifts. His grip tightens suddenly, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her breasts. He squeezes roughly, the pressure bordering on painful. "Nnnnggghhhh!", Anita can't help but let out a yelp, a sound caught between a gasp of surprise and a moan of pleasure.
The conflicting sensations send shockwaves through her system. The pain is sharp and immediate, making her breath catch in her throat. But it's quickly followed by a rush of arousal so intense it makes her head spin. Her nipples, already erect, now ache for more attention. "Hnnghhh... Ahhhhh..." Anita's breath comes in short, sharp pants, punctuated by soft whimpers of need.
Supratim maintains his firm grip, massaging her breasts with a possessive fervor. Each squeeze sends jolts of electricity straight to his employee’s core. She can feel herself growing wet, her thighs clenching involuntarily. "Mmmmmppphhhh... Ohhhhh..." A low, guttural moan rumbles from deep in Anita's throat, her body responding instinctively to Supratim's rough handling.
"Look at you," Supratim murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Trying so hard to resist. But your body betrays you, doesn't it?" His fingers find her nipples through the dress, pinching and rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation is almost too much to bear. Anita arches her back involuntarily, pressing her chest further into his hands.
"Is this what you've been thinking about? What you've been craving?", Supratim demands to know.
"Yes," Anita finally gasps, admitting her desires.
Supratim smirks, satisfied. "Keep reading," he commands. "And don't you dare look away until you've finished every word." As Anita struggles to concentrate on the file, Supratim's hands roam freely. He hikes up her dress, fingers dancing along her inner thighs. His touch is maddening, alternating between gentle caresses and firm gropes.
"You have no idea what I have in store for you," Supratim whispers, his breath hot against her ear. "By the time this trip is over, you'll be begging for more." Anita shivers, both terrified and thrilled by the promise in his words.
Supratim's hands eventually move to the zipper of Anita's navy blue dress, slowly dragging it down her back. The cool air hits her skin, sending goosebumps across her flesh. With practiced ease, he peels the dress down her shoulders and arms, letting it pool around her waist. His eyes rake over her form, now clad only in a lacy white bra and the bunched fabric at her hips.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, his fingers tracing the edge of her bra strap. Anita shivers at his touch, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Supratim reaches behind her, unhooking her bra with a deft flick of his fingers. He slides the straps down her arms, letting the garment fall away to reveal her bare breasts.
For a moment, Supratim simply stares, drinking in the sight of her exposed form. His gaze is hungry, almost predatory, making Anita feel both vulnerable and incredibly aroused. Then, without warning, he leans in, capturing one of her nipples between his lips. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, alternating between gentle licks and firm suction. His free hand roams her body, tracing the curves of her waist and hips, fingers dipping teasingly beneath the fabric still bunched at her waist.
"Mmmph... Ahh..." Anita moans, arching her back to press herself more firmly against Supratim's mouth. Her hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as waves of pleasure wash over her. The sensation is achingly familiar, yet thrillingly new. Unbidden, thoughts of her fiancé flood her mind - the way he would lavish attention on her breasts, teasing her to the brink of madness with just his tongue. The comparison only serves to heighten her arousal, guilt and pleasure intertwining in a dizzying cocktail.
Her eyes glaze over, the words on the page before her blurring into meaningless shapes. She's barely made it past the second page when Supratim's hand slips beneath the waistband of her panties, his fingers seeking out her heated core.
"Focus on the file," he commands, voice husky with desire.
Anita bites her lip, desperately trying to stifle her moans as Supratim's fingers explore her slick folds. He slides one finger inside her, then two, curling them to hit that spot that makes her see stars. A moan escapes her lips, sounding so much like the ones she'd make for her fiancé that shame and arousal war within her. Her boss spreads her legs wider, positioning her on the edge of the berth. His thumb finds her clit, circling it with maddening precision. Anita's breath comes in short gasps, her hips rocking against his hand of their own accord. She's leafing through the pages now, no longer even pretending to read, just desperate to finish so she can give in to the pleasure building within her.
Without warning, Supratim increases his pace, fingers pumping in and out of her furiously. Anita's world narrows to the sensations between her legs, her impending orgasm building like a tidal wave. Unconsciously, her hand moves to his crotch, feeling the hard outline of his arousal through his trousers.
When she orgasms, it's with a cry that she muffles against her arm, her body shaking with the force of her release. As the aftershocks subside, reality comes crashing back. She's half-naked, her dress bunched around her waist, breasts exposed, save for her engagement ring glinting on her finger. Her boss's hand is still buried between her thighs, fingers nestled beneath the hem of her hiked-up dress. Her own palm remains pressed against the impressive bulge in his trousers, feeling the heat and hardness of his erection through the fabric.
Anita's chest heaves as she struggles to catch her breath, her nipples still painfully erect in the cool air of the train compartment. The contrast between her state of undress and Supratim's fully clothed form only heightens her sense of vulnerability and shame. Yet, even as guilt begins to creep in, she can't deny the lingering sparks of pleasure coursing through her body or the persistent ache of desire deep in her core.
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