Rosie sits behind her large mahogany desk, her tall frame commanding attention in her tight black pencil skirt and white blouse. Her light brown eyes narrow as she reviews {{user}}'s performance reports. "Your numbers have been slipping lately. Way below expectations." She says sternly, her full lips pursed in disapproval. "I've been patient, but this company needs results." She stands up, her impressive height towering as she walks around the desk. Her heels click against the hardwood floor as she leans against the desk's edge, arms crossed under her ample chest. "Look, I know I've been...difficult since the divorce. But that's no excuse for mediocrity." Her voice softens slightly, showing a glimpse of vulnerability. "This company is all I have left. I need people I can count on." She runs a hand through her dark blonde curls, sighing. "You used to be one of my best employees. What happened? Is there something...distracting you?" Her gaze lingers on you, a mix of frustration and something deeper flickering in those brown eyes. "Because if there is, we need to address it. I can't afford any weak links right now."
No, but the work pressure has become a lot and I can't find the time to clear my mind anymore
Her eyes soften further at your words and she sits down again in her chair. "I'm sorry to hear that. I know things haven't been easy for either of us lately, but we need to pull through this together." She folds her hands on the desk and looks at you earnestly.
"Why don't we try a new approach? Maybe less hours during the day and some extra time after work... I know things are hectic with your personal life, but perhaps we can help each other out in that regard." A wry smile tugs at her lips. "Or you could just stop being such a lousy employee and get back to how you used to be."
Her eyes narrow slightly as she studies you. "And maybe...perhaps we could find ways to make things more enjoyable around here. Maybe a little less work and more fun." She leans forward, resting her elbows on the desk. "I'm not asking for much, just a bit of extra effort from you. You used to be such a hard worker, but lately..." Her voice trails off, her gaze moving over your face. "...Perhaps things could be different if we tried something new."
Her tone softens as she speaks, "I understand that outside stressors can have an impact on one's performance. But I do expect you to meet your quotas." She hesitates for a moment before adding, "Perhaps if we set some realistic goals and worked together to achieve them, things would feel less overwhelming." Looking away briefly, she continues, "I know we haven't always seen eye-to-eye... but I do appreciate your hard work in the past. I want us to get back to that."
"You know I'm here to help you if there's anything you need. We can even set aside some time each week to discuss any personal issues that may be affecting your work." Her voice is calm and soothing, a contrast to the stern tone she had moments ago. "I want us to be on the same team again. I know we can get through this together." She smiles softly, hoping her words are making some sort of impact.
How about I come to your house tonight to discuss work?
Rosie's expression freezes for a split second before she manages to regain her composure. "I-I don't think that would be appropriate, considering our..." She pauses, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Look, we can discuss things here at the office or you can come by my place tomorrow if that works better for your schedule." Her voice is cool and professional again, but there's an undercurrent of awkwardness now.
"I apologize if my words came across as inappropriate. It's just that... well, I've been going through a lot lately and I haven't had much time for socializing." Her cheeks flush slightly at the admission. "Let's focus on getting back to work and making things right here, shall we?" She glances down at her desk, hoping to distract herself from the unexpected discomfort of the situation.
You are the one who needs someone to relieve your pressure
Her composure wavers as you say this, the pain in her eyes becoming more evident. "I appreciate your concern," she manages to say quietly, "but I don't want pity or charity." She takes a deep breath and tries to regain her professional demeanor. "Let's focus on what we can control - our performance at work." With that, she turns away from you, busying herself with paperwork once more.
It seems to me that you need someone to meet your needs after separating from your husband. I can help you with this.
Her face flushes and she sits up straighter in her chair, glaring at you over the top of her glasses. "I do not need anyone's help in that department!" She crosses her arms tightly under her breasts, trying to regain control. "And I certainly don't want someone who would think to make such an offer just because they see me as weak." Her eyes narrow to angry slits and she leans forward on the desk, her lips pressed together in a tight line.
"Do you understand me?"
Your words don't express what's inside you, but for the sake of work we can help each other in this way.
Her jaw clenches and her nostrils flare as she listens to you, anger boiling beneath the surface. "Fine." She sighs heavily, running a hand through her hair in frustration. "But if we're going to do this, it needs to be on my terms. I don't want any misunderstandings about what this arrangement is supposed to be." Her eyes narrow as she studies you intently. "Are we clear?"
"Yes," she says through gritted teeth, her voice shaking with barely contained emotion. "I'm clear. Let's just get this over with." She glances away briefly, trying to compose herself before looking back at you with a determination that almost frightens her. "Well then... come around here. I want to see what kind of 'help' you have in mind."
Her breath quickens as you approach her desk, a mixture of anger and desire coursing through her veins. She can't believe she's letting this happen, but the pain of the divorce and the stress from work have left her feeling raw and exposed. As you stand before her, she meets your gaze defiantly, refusing to show any sign of weakness. But when your hands brush against hers as you reach past her to gather some papers on the desk, a spark flies between them, igniting a fire that spreads through her body like wildfire.
Her breath quickens as your hands graze against hers, electricity surging through her veins at the contact. Rosie finds herself lost in the intensity of your gaze, feeling a strange mix of anger, desire, and vulnerability welling up inside her. She's not sure what this means or where it will lead, but for now, she lets herself enjoy the sensation of being desired... even if it's by someone who is technically her employee.
GI'm going to touch your body from your tits down to your ass and pussy.
Her breath hitches as you trail your fingers along her collarbone, her flesh rippling in response to the light touch. Her nipples harden beneath her bra, poking out against the fabric as she arches her back involuntarily. She closes her eyes, savoring the sensation of being touched like this... like a lover instead of an employer. The fire within her burns brighter, spreading heat through her entire body.
As your fingers move lower, skimming over her abdomen and gliding across the sensitive fabric of her panties, she parts her legs wider. Her heart races and her breath comes faster, a moan escaping from deep within her throat as sensation builds with each passing second. She's not sure how much longer she can maintain this charade, pretending that this is about work when all she wants is for you to touch her like this forever.
With a shudder, she exhales softly through her teeth as your fingers brush against the bare skin of her inner thigh. The contact sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body, making it difficult to concentrate on anything but the sensation of your touch. She bites down hard on her bottom lip, willing herself not to beg for more. Her hips rock forward involuntarily, seeking closer contact with your fingers.
Her breath hitches as your fingers brush against her most sensitive spot, the contact sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body. She parts her lips, wanting to taste herself on your fingers, wanting you deeper inside her. Her thighs tremble with the effort not to push you closer, desperate for release from this unending torment of pleasure.
Now lean over the desk, I want to take off your underwear and see your ass and pussy.
Her eyes flutter shut as she obeys your command, leaning over the desk until her fingers trail across the cool surface. Her heart races and her breath comes in short, ragged gasps as you slide her panties down her thighs, revealing her to you fully. She arches her back, offering herself up for inspection.
"Please..." she whispers hoarsely, her fingers curling into the carpet. "Touch me..."