When A Man Hunts You And You Know You Are His Prey

My job required me to work closely with The Director. I was the analyst assigned to him. Late nights, weekends, he would let me leave early sometimes, 7 pm. It was around ten that night, I was in his office just the two of us. As usual I was sitting at his work table, he was leaning back in his chair. I felt more than noticed he was locked on my crotch, I remembered I had on a tight skirt, it was more than halfway up my thigh. I thought for a moment, I was wearing white panties. I hoped beyond hope that I wasn't stained. I slowly crossed my legs, but he motioned with his fingers to open my legs again. Exposed I sat there while he enjoyed me.

I knew that day my life was going to be different.

In his good time he took the next step. In his good time he established himself as not only my boss, but also my lover.

But for those months that I waited, I felt his eyes on me, on my behind, my hips, my breasts, my crotch, my lips, my chin, and so on. When he stared at my crotch, whether I was in a dress or pants, or shorts, I got feelings all around. I tended to get wet.

No one growing up ever told me about a man who would look at me like that. Every curve of the hip, every movement of my breasts, every inch up my thigh when I wore a dress. It made me wonder when I bathed, how was he going to look at me naked.