This is an original story in English that I wrote for the Wicked Wednesday Meme of Rebels’ Notes.
For months I´ve noticed that you’ve been looking at the bulge in my pants. Every time I walk into your office, your eyes make me dwell on the threshold.
It’s not simply that I don’t dare to enter. It is just not in the order of things for me to walk into your office.
Unintentionally or purposefully, you watch the small bulge in my pants and me, the man behind it.
By now you must have figured out what kind of a man I am, but you keep your understanding of me to yourself.
I know what you feel, and I sense what you know, but I will not hand you the words to express it.
Our true identities manifest themselves only in those instances when we play this little game every working day; the playful little game which has me trying to enter your office and your eyes keeping me fixed on the threshold.
Your glass-eyed gaze always wanders off onto my lap which holds my fertile little cock. Once in a while you just need to imprint your dominance on someone like me.
It makes you feel so good.
I am proud that I can give you that feeling by just lingering on the threshold of your office. I turn and swivel without any need on your doorstep, just to let you feel that I am submissive to you.
You know it and I know it.
This soft and fragile truth will persist between us as long as it remains unspoken.
When we look at each other, truth hovers as the subtlest of fragrances in the silent air.
It cannot be touched. It cannot be seen. It is simply there.
The spark in your eyes has fueled my desire, the silkiness of your voice has me enchanted in hypnotic bliss. Yet the threshold of your office door is keeping us apart, preserving these precious daily pleasures in the silence which conceals our little secret so delicately.
I was just thinking, could I bring you some tea now?
(c) 2016 luckymanbooks