s*x Chained

The Fantasy

Chapter 6

On her off-duty hours, she remained in her tiny apartment, formulating and plotting. The coming July Fourth weekend would be the perfect time to carry out her plan. Nat even had the perfect setting to inspire romance. Now all she had to do was figure out how to lure Chris away from the charms of Merrill the Peril. Like any great idea, her brainchild came to her in a dream as she and Chris made mad, passionate love across his desk. Her desires became an integral part of her dreams of late, and always took place in the same venue and peppered with the same dialogue.

Nat, wearing only a filmy, black-lace teddy, would work at her desk as usual until the boss buzzed her to come into his office. When she arrived with her small, slim recorder, she would find Chris O'Connell sitting gallantly on the edge of his desk, dressed only in a tight, black satin thong.

"Take this memo, Miss Blanchard," he would command in his strong voice.

Sitting in a nearby chair, Nat would turn on her recorder.

"This letter is meant for the woman of my deepest desires," he would begin. "She must know who she is, for we see each other every day, but have yet to give into our passions. Each time I gaze at her lovely face and drink in her beautiful form, I can barely contain myself. Work is impossible from that point on. Are you getting all this... Nat?"

She would glance up, surprised by the lusty intent ablaze in his aqua eyes. Suddenly, Chris' voice would drop to a low, mesmerizing cadence. "She knows who she is. She works beside me every day; and every day I long to take her in my arms and kiss her swan neck. I covet those tantalizing lips and savor the scent of her hair, like spring lavender. Then, I imagine the feel of her soft skin along my cheek!"

Overwhelmed, Nat would slip the recorder off her lap, her eyes warm and bright with desire for him, and him alone.

"Nat, you must know it has been you all along!" Rising, Chris would take her in his arms in one swift move. "Oh, Nat, Nat," he would whisper in her ear. "I have wanted you forever!"

Flinging her head back, Nat would then allow him to work his fervent kisses down her throat while she moaned with the heated pleasure he now produced. Yes, yes, oh yes! Her pelvis would press against his, and she would feel his member grow stiff against her mound. With savage intent, Chris would pull her over to the desk; and with the sweep of his arm, he would clear the surface of all hindrances to their desires. By now, their clothing had miraculously vanished, leaving torrid flesh upon torrid flesh. Surprisingly tender, Chris would help her across the desk, and then tower between her legs, his c**k huge and throbbing, and aching to impale her with unbridled lust. Yet, just as soon as this magnificent man readied to plunge inside and take her body and soul, the world would begin to fade to black...

Unfortunately, Nat would wake at this point, disoriented and certainly unsure of how this fantasy would end. Obviously, they would work with savage intensity to achieve blessed release, but exactly how they went about achieving such still perplexed her. Yet, Nat felt all too ready to learn, and do so as quickly as possible.

Thursday morning brought Nat into the office with a homemade marble cake, topped with a checkerboard of chocolate fudge and vanilla cream frosting. According to Chris O'Connell's profile on his f*******: page, he liked both chocolate and vanilla; and today, he turned thirty-years-old.

The moment her boss arrived at the office, Nat greeted him as usual, her back to the cake. As he opened his office door, she offered to bring him a cup of coffee; but instead, she stuck the three white candles in the middle of the cake, lit them, and then carefully walked into his office as she sang "Happy Birthday." Chris immediately smiled, his expression a blend of surprise and appreciation.

"Why, Natalie, how nice! I didn't realize you knew my birth date."

"It's in your personnel file," she told him as she set the cake on his desk. She hoped she didn't blush; although, her face felt as hot as the flickering candle flames. "I'll get us some coffee and be right back. While I’m gone, think about the wish you want to make." Oh, if only by some miracle, his wish would include her!

When she returned with the two mugs, Nat found both Merrill and Darren Muench in Chris' office. They had already lit the candles, attacked her cake by cutting it down the sides, and then sliced off several pieces. Nat barely remembered setting down the mugs as she stared at her masterpiece, now a sunken, crumbly mess. She had taken the time to write Happy Birthday, Christian on top in pale-blue icing made from scratch. The Hap and tian were all that remained.

"Come on and join us for a piece!" her boss beckoned. "I bet you made this yourself, didn't you, Nat?"

She tried to look excited. "Yes, from scratch."

"Well how nice," Merrill added with a thin veneer of a smile.

Thankfully, Nat's desk phone rang. Sucking in a breath, she inched back to answer it. She had wanted so much to ask Chris to lunch, just the two of them, her treat on his special day. Now, all her courage had evaporated and drifted away like the smoke from his candles. Those three bright but brief references to his age were nothing but twigs of twisted, melted wax now— just like her dreams.

In the end, Chris went to lunch with Merrill and Darren. After they left, Nat returned to her boss' office and studied the now-hardened mass of her glorious cake. Taking the letter opening Chris had used as a knife, she began to stab at the chocolate confection until she found the sterling silver ID bracelet she had baked inside—and hoped he would find. The bracelet cost over fifty dollars, and Nat had spent extra to engrave his name across in elegant script. She picked it up, heedless of the sticky goo attached, and deposited the personalized piece in her skirt pocket.