Seducing Mr. Riley

Samantha Lynn
12 mins read
Published about 4 years ago

He is strong, powerful, commands attention with little more than stern glances in pointed directions. His suits are pressed, collared shirts starched, leather shoes shined to an impeccable standard. He strides with purpose, moves swiftly, works efficiently, and is the youngest manager in the company’s history, already being groomed for corporate.

You want him.

You’ve wanted him since the day you met him – the 24th of December, at the company Christmas party.

He had given every employee a tablet, chatted amicably with as many people as he could, and danced to Christmas classics with an eggnog-fuelled enthusiasm. You remember that he wore a red Santa suit, and that he looked nothing like the jolly, old elf in his tailored red button-down. The fabric pressed against his chest and torso and left nothing to your imagination.

You bite your lip as you recall his barely-concealed muscles in that shirt. In your fantasies, he’s always wearing that red Santa suit—literally a suit, because he would obviously never dream of dressing casually.

You are absently chewing your pen cap, caught up in your sexual reverie, when a familiar cologne wafts in. At first, you think that your fantasy is simply becoming more palpable, but when you see crisp, blue pant legs and shiny, black dress shoes— Italian leather, no doubt —you realize that he’s physically right in front of you. You try in vain to bury your explicit thoughts about him, cross your legs tightly, and glance up at his face. He’s frowning, but you aren’t sure why.

You stand up from your desk-chair, hoping he can’t smell the raw desire emanating from you.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Riley. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You shake his hand for good measure and suck your lower lip into your mouth unconsciously.

“I came by to make sure you got my memo…” he says, but then falters and trails off. Your eyes are trained on him, and you notice as his flicker down to your mouth.

Maybe it’s your imagination or possibly wishful thinking, but you swear you see his lips part slightly. You don’t want to, but you can’t help smirking for just a moment. The moment passes and you smile professionally.

“I did get it, Sir, and was just finishing up my response to it. I will send that as soon as you leave. Did you want anything else from me?”

You word your last sentence carefully, leaning into him just a centimetre or two. You want to see if he reacts.

He opens his mouth in reply, then pauses. Mr. Riley, the most composed man you have ever seen, always knows what to say. He thinks on his feet, and never pauses with his mouth open.

However, when his words come, they are almost stammered. “I-I think that’s everything. I will respond to your reply as soon as I get it, and let you know if I need anything else.”

He turns sharply on his shiny shoes and strides back to his office, but not before you see that his pupils are blown wide with what you hope is lust. You decide not to open his memo, and instead focus on a client’s portfolio that you need to review.

You are so immersed in your work that the firm throat-clearing noise Mr. Riley makes startles you. You swivel to face him and stand up from your desk-chair, shaking his hand once more. By now you have regained composure, and you are ready to push your boundaries, to see more conclusive proof of his possible interest in you.

You choose your words carefully: “Hello, Mr. Riley, would you like something more from me?”

You stare into his eyes—professionally, of course—and nip subtly at your lower lip. Again you watch his eyes drop to your mouth. This time, when he opens his lips, his tongue darts to lick his lips.

The movement is brief, over before you know it, but you saw it, and you know what it means. A small grin graces your lips and you move closer to him, just enough to enter into his space. He steps forward as you do, and you find him mere inches from you.

You grow bolder from these events. “Mr. Riley? Sir?” You have to crane your neck a bit to look at his face; he is several inches taller than you are, even in your heels.

He ducks his head to meet your eyes. He makes perfect eye contact and answers you: “Yes.”

Handing you a small piece of paper, he turns his back and strides purposefully to his office. Your hands move quickly to unfold the note, eager to learn its contents. Heart pounding against your ribcage, you read his home address. Just below the address is 6 pm.

You crumple the paper and slip it into your blazer pocket, then check your phone. It’s just after 5pm, time to head home.

You log off your computer and exit your cubicle. Though you never have before, you make sure to pass Mr. Riley’s office on your way out. “See you,” you tell him with a smile.

He doesn’t look up from his desk, but you know from the way he shudders that he heard you. You are shaking with excitement when you leave the building.

At home, you put on your favourite bra, a lacy, maroon number, and matching panties. You decide on your best little black dress and some comfortable heels. Burgundy lips complete the look and you check yourself out in the bathroom mirror, gaining confidence as you imagine how he will greet you. 

A spritz of perfume and you start walking to his place, heart racing and panties wet with anticipation.

You buzz in and your stomach jolts when you hear his voice over the intercom. “Come on up.”

You climb two flights of stairs and make your way to his door. He answers on the first knock and invites you in.

Standing in his kitchen with him, you feel nervous yet overcome with lust. You are eager to see who will make the first move. He walks away from you, and comes back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. Setting the glasses on his counter, he deftly uncorks the wine and pours a glass for both of you. You accept his offering, taking several large sips to calm your bubbling anxiety. He drinks some of his and then focuses his eyes on you. He runs them from your face to your feet, lingering on your chest and torso.

You break the silence: “See something you like, Mr. Riley?”

He stays silent, continuing to ogle you. You keep talking, never one for quiet. “I have wanted this for so long,” you confess. “I’ve fantasized about your hard body on mine, your hot skin against my skin, your sweat on my sweat, every single day since the Christmas party.”

His mouth falls open at your admission, and this time when he licks his lips, the motion is obvious, purposeful.

“You are so controlled, so firm, so professional…” you begin, moving into experimental territory. He nods, encouraging you to continue. “So tightly-wound. But I bet you’re just aching to let go of that control.” He keeps nodding; you knew he would be interested. “I want to help you let go of that control.” 

Finally, he responds: “How?” His voice is husky and sends shivers down your spine beneath your dress.

At this, you smirk into your wine glass, take another big gulp, then reach up and grab the end of his tie. “Oh, Mr. Riley,” you say to him condescendingly. “A girl can’t reveal all her little secrets.” You wink for effect and watch his pupils grow with want.

The wine begins to take its small effects and you pull him by the end of his tie into the foyer. “Where’s your bedroom, Mr. Riley?” you ask him in a mock-innocent voice. He points to the closed door down the hall, and you tug him by the tie all the way to the room.

By the time you reach his bed, you can’t believe how turned on you are, but you save your excitement and focus on the man you very much want to dominate. With his tie in your hand, you push him onto his king-size bed, the chocolate comforter billowing under the movement.

You climb on top of him and grind against his crotch, feeling his stiff cock beneath you. Once, twice, three times and you move to undo his tie from his neck. He looks at you with a mixture of awe and frustration, not one to revoke control. You click your tongue at him. 

“I’m in control tonight,” you tell him sternly, but with a smile.

You set the tie aside and instruct Mr. Riley to unbutton his shirt. He obeys, fingers working quickly to remove the clothing. As each button pops, you see more and more of his muscled abdomen and you almost involuntarily trace a finger over the chiseled creases. He moans softly at your touch, and you’re reminded that this is not just another one of your fantasies.

You shove the finger into his mouth and his eyes widen as he sucks it, coating it in his warm saliva. You pull the finger back out, and onto his abs, tracing again, wetting the creases. You moan a little at the sight of wetness dripping down his body, knowing that later it will be your cum making his abs glisten like that.

Mr. Riley throws his shirt to the floor and moves to brush his hands against your body. You push his hands away from you with a wagging finger. “What did I say? I’m going to have to punish you for that!”

You take his tie and wrap it around his offending wrists, binding them together above his head. “Can you move your hands?” you ask him. He shakes his head. “Good.”

You are terribly eager for the next act, but work to restrain yourself. This is as tantalizing for you as it is for Mr. Riley, you realize. You absolutely love it. You straddle his calves and fix your eyes on his pants zipper. Your fingers move to the zipper, then pull it down a centimetre at a time. You can feel his cock twitch with every downward motion.

Biting your lip slightly, you look up at him. His head is tilted backwards, eyes squeezed shut: this is killing him. You chuckle at the sight and keep moving until the zipper is completely down. You unbutton the pants quickly and pull at the waistband. He helps you by lifting his body off the bed as you drag his pants off, throwing them next to his shirt.

And then you see it. It’s partially obscured by his boxer briefs, but the outline is there. Just as you imagined, his cock is substantial: probably seven inches, at least. It’s straining against the fabric of his boxers, aching to expose itself to you. God, you want it.

“Someone’s excited,” you tell Mr. Riley in a husky tone. He simply moans in response.

You hop back onto the bed, straddling him again. You move your hand over his boxers, hovering inches from his penis. Mr. Riley starts to lift his hips to meet your hand, but seems to think better of it and drops them back down. “Good boy,” you tell him. As a reward, you set your hand against his erection, brushing up and down the outline of his shaft. It’s warm and pulsing and so ready for you.

But you know it isn’t time yet.

You grip his boxer waistband and start to tug, revealing more and more of the secret you’d only imagined before. The first tug down and you learn that he trims but doesn’t shave. The second tug and you see that he is thick, but not painfully so. The third tug and you realize just what seven inches looks like. The final tug and your boss’s cock is completely exposed. You gasp at the sight of it, standing tall away from his body.

“Do you like it?” Mr. Riley asks in a cracked but confident voice. You respond by sitting on his face.

“I’m going to take my panties off,” you say before doing just that. They are soaked through with your wetness and your pussy pulses at the feeling of open air. You re-mount his face and continue directing. “You are going to make me cum with your mouth three times. If you don’t, I will punish you. If you do, I will reward you. Got it?” His assent is muffled by your wet cunt, and the vocal vibrations make you shiver.

He starts moving his tongue against your clit, just flicking it lightly, and you jerk with each touch. You feel his tongue explore your pussy, tasting your wetness, lapping at it. He moans quietly as he moves around you, licking your inner lips all over. You groan when he slips his tongue inside you, playing with your hole and fucking you with his mouth.

After his exploration, he moves back to your clit, and you understand that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He flicks your clit a few times, and then suctions onto it, sucking it into his mouth. You feel the orgasm building at the base of your stomach just moments after he starts. Warmth moves up your body, pulsing, pushing. A few more seconds and the heat explodes through your body, coursing through your veins. You moan at the feeling, and grind your pussy into his mouth harder. You’re still pulsing and sensitive from the first orgasm but his mouth has not stopped moving and you feel that familiar feeling rise in you a second time. You don’t stop moaning. The sounds get louder and wilder as you cum in his mouth again.

You can barely hold yourself up against his face after the second orgasm, but you try your hardest not to crumple into him as he licks you closer to the edge a third time. Waves of pleasure shoot through your body and you actually yell when your third orgasm washes over you. Removing yourself from his mouth, you kneel next to him and admire your cum all over his face, slicking his swollen lips and his hard chin.

You lick your cum off him and peck him on the lips. “You did very well. I don’t have to punish you now.”

You slap his face, not hard, but with some momentum. “But I’m going to anyway. Is that okay?” He nods and actually grins: you knew he’d be into this. “Get on your stomach,” you order. He rolls over, grunting as his cock presses into the bed. You move to his ass and slap it. His body moves at the pain, but only for a moment.

You spank him again, and he moans slightly this time. You keep spanking him until his beefy ass is bright red. His moaning has gotten louder, and you know that it’s time. You tell him to roll onto his back, and he does so eagerly. Finally, you slip your dress over your head and take off your bra, revealing pink, erect nipples. Mr. Riley’s mouth gapes at the sight. You grin.

“Okay, Mr. Riley,” you say, “Time for your reward.” You climb onto his ramrod-straight cock and sink down to his pelvis. The two of you groan in tandem at the feeling, and you begin to ride his hard member.

Bouncing up and down on his penis, you start to move closer to cumming. His cock grinds against your clit with each upward movement of your hips and it isn’t long before you’re in ecstasy, gyrating your hips rhythmically. You feel him release as you do, hot cum expelling inside your pulsating pussy.

Extracting yourself from his lap, you bend down and take his drained cock into your mouth. He throws his head back at this and you smirk as you suck on his sensitive head, tasting his cum. You pop it out of your mouth and move to untie his restraints.

Once he’s free, you tell him, “This was just a sample. I’m going to show you what it’s like to completely let go.” He nods his head vigorously, words failing him.

After you re-dress yourself, you kiss him quickly but sensuously, then walk out of his room, calling behind you: “See you at work tomorrow, Mr. Riley!”

You absolutely cannot wait for your next visit to your boss’s place, and know that you won’t be able to get anything accomplished at your job the next day. But that’s okay, you’ve got an in with Mr. Riley.