She stopped. He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. He turned her around. He was standing close to her, close enough she could smel... his manly scent. “Maggie, honey, I’m not making fun of you.” he said seriously. He put his finger under her chin and lifted it until she had to look him eye to eye. “When I tell you you’re beautiful, I mean it. When I tell you boys would kill to be near you dressed like that, I mean it. Heck, you gave me a hard on!”He stopped suddenly. He hadn’t. Time ceases. The world stops.My hands explore your back, moving slowly, again caressing and massaging, feeling your shape. Down to your waist... then further down to your buttocks... firm and tight and round.My hands are full as they measure and touch you, kneading and needing, and cupping your ass... pulling you to me tighter. So exciting... so sensuous this feeling.My mouth is hard against yours, open, wet, and sucking as our tongues probe and exchange pleasure.Our bodies are tight against. You unbuckled your tool belt from the waist of your jeans, carefully setting it on the door mat. Around the corner, you see that the door to the study is open, and you can hear me click-clacking on the computer. You know that I have been extremely stressed lately, and you hope that what you have in mind will make me feel better. You tiptoe closer to the door of our office and peek in, loving what you see: I am sitting criss-crossed in your big desk chair, with only your work shirt from. You wouldn't think of it, to look at her. She is very average looking, with a fine, ripe body usually hidden under sensible clothes. She is a librarian, and looks almost stereotypical.When she gets home, however, the reality is much different. She knows that while I am a sweet guy, I have certain rules. When the rules are broken, punishment is swift and sure. She thinks that I don't know that she actually likes the "sentences" I hand out. But I do know. It's hard not to see how her skin flushes.