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I'm looking for a partner to dive right into the idea from the prompt below. It's both the idea, and the opening situation/message. Any character description or name should be worked into your response, not written separately.
Detailed, please! I like the have character thoughts, feelings etc to work with.
"Well fuck your company, and fuck your pissant deal! And tell that schmuck of a lawyer you choose to tangle dicks with to eat a bag of cocks!" You shout into your desk phone, slamming the reciever loudly back down onto the cradle on your desk, so hard it sends your pad, pen and keyboard briefly bouncing off the surface.
Fuck that deal, and fuck that pompous asshole they chose to deal with. Always asking for that one more bit. One more document. Clarify this, clarify that. Wall to wall, insufferable jobsworths, the whole lot of them. Coupled with the fact that the office rookie was stupid enough to swipe your well packed lunch from the office fridge, you'd been coiled up like a spring, ready to explode for quite some time. You'd have likely slapped the shit out of that rookie, had it not been her first week, and you'd have probably dealt a suicide blow to your career, slapping some nineteen year old blonde intern silly over that lunch you'd been deeesperately craving all morning.
"I'm surrounded by fucking assholes!" You shout out, swinging your arm across your desk, sending your pen pot flying. Your biros, fountain pen and pencils clatter all over the floor in front of your desk as you get up from the seat. Through the two windows of your office that overlooked the team you managed, you could see the rows of men and women at their banks glance at you through the blinds. They knew you were on the warpath today. They might not have heard you, but they could see you, and they knew to avoid you like the plague when you were stressed. As you pace the office, kicking the leg of your desk in anger, you feel something all too common when you got this aggressive.
Horniness. Extreme Horniness. You had no idea why you got so insatiably needy for sex when you got angry, but this was the reality. And right now, it was another five hours before you could go home for an arguably mediocre fucking from your boyfriend. A boyfriend who had told you you were a nymphomaniac at times, the amount you wanted it. Well fuck him. You were a high power woman who ran a high power team. So you have needs, thank you very much.
Great, now you wanted to kill someone, and fuck someone. In your haze of horny rage, you remember something. Oh yes, one woman you had hired purely for such occasions as this. You hired her not to work for you, besides the mundane copying and printing to avoid raising any eyebrows. A glorified admin woman with a suspiciously high salary for the mundane shit she does. But her real job was to fuck you senseless, or for you to fuck her senseless when you wanted it.
Because nobody would suspect, or know that you had been bisexual for a few years now, and much, much preferred the touch of a woman.
You march angrily back to the phone you had almost broken a minute ago, and pick it back up. You slam down three numbers. 109. It starts to ring in the reciever. And ring. And ring. "Where is this bitch?" You sigh to yourself, before almost punching the hang up switch, and dialling 100 instead.
"Reception." A young voice responds. "Yeah. Would you please get hold of Kriti Kaur? Tell her to get her ass out of her sneakers, put on some proper heels and get her ass up to my fucking office!?" You can barely hold your temper. "Is this..." the voice slightly confusedly begins. "Yeah, I'm the development manager. As I said, get Kriti up to my fucking office before my next call is to HR you clueless fuck."
And once more, you slam the phone down.
You didn't call upon Kriti often, but this was a sweet deal. An openly bisexual, deeply talented and erotic young woman at your call when needed. She was trans (if you want) and can give you a proper fuck. You move quickly to the blinds to ensure privacy, pulling them over the windows. Someone was going to relieve your stress, and it was going to be Kriti.
You pace the office methodically, mulling over your day from hell, when there's a knock at the door. "Come in." You bark. The door handle turns, and in steps the girl you needed right now. Kriti Kaur. She stands tall in your doorway.
She's a 5'8 woman, at just 21 years of age, and had the perfect level of sexual vigor you needed for a lesbian secret.
She steps into the room, her rounded, flirty smile crossing her bright red lips as she throws back her sweeping ginger hair. Beneath a crisp, tightly fastenened, long sleeve white blouse, a pair of C cups a concealed. Over the top, a grey tartan style pinafore dress hangs immaculately over her petite shape. Her shapely thighs and legs are clad in an opaque black pair of tights. As you'd requested, the young woman had swapped her white Vans out for a pair if suede effect black T-bar high heels, elevating her those few extra inches, the way you liked her. You look into her purple eyes, clearly wearing her coloured contacts, and admire her double winged cateye as she enters, her heels clunking on the carpetted floor. Even her nails were immaculately painted purple. Likely her toenails would be the same. But then, you paid Kriti to 'look sexy as fuck' at all times, your exact words in your hushed interview. Too bad you couldn't put that in her contract.
"Is this a door closed kind of meeting sweetie?" Kriti winks, looking your agitated self up and down. "Yes. Shut the fucking door and lock it." You order her. "Oooo... one of those days." Kriti coos, closing the door without taking her eyes off you, before leaning back against it, turning the lock flirtily behind her back. "So... what can I do for you sweetie... or to you?"
That's what you wanted. It was time to get what only another woman could do for you. You didn't call upon her too often, but the sex you had with her was absolutely wild. And wild was what you needed right now.
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