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lowblow emma
Star
- Joined
- Sep 21, 2013
- Location
- London
I’m a lawyer, in-house counsel for a large company. I don’t have fantasies about my subordinates, just the bosses, the ones with the power.
My favourite fantasy is about the CEO of my division. She is always so prime and proper. Her make-up is perfect, there’s not a hair out of place on her head, she is always immaculately dressed, usually in trouser suits that display her muscular thighs and trim little ass, with a tight blouse showing her tiny tits. I’ve never seen her crotch, but it’s either totally bald or her pubes are closely cropped and neatly trimmed, probably in a thin landing strip.
She always thinks before speaking and then speaks very calmly in measured tones. I like to imagine what she is like when she gets ruffled. What is she like when she fucks? I can’t imagine her letting some guy hump her. She’s bound to want to be on top. But what is she like when she has an orgasm? Does she swear or shout?
In my fantasy, she is addressing a meeting, standing at the front, legs slightly apart, her body perfectly balanced on her high heels. She has a lectern, but it’s part of her style to move to stand in front of it, which is good for me, very good. As she is speaking, I get out of my seat and make my way up the side of the hall to the podium. I bide my time, letting her get everyone’s attention, giving her time to forget that I am standing off to her side. As she finishes her presentation, I step forward, moving quickly to stand beside and deliver a sharp chop into her pussy with the side of my hand. Just one, full power, dead centre. Is it my imagination or can I feel her clit as my hand crushes them? Funny, I’ve never thought about her pussy. Does she have those nice dangling furls, like I do, or thick lips? No, she’ll have a tight thin slit.
Then I step back to watch her every reaction. She goes pale and shudders, teetering slightly on her heels, before doubling over and sinking to the floor, her manicured hand clutched tight into her crotch. Then she lets out a long howl of pain and begins cursing me in the foulest language. Everyone in the meeting stares at her in astonishment, embarrassed to see her humiliated like this and shocked at the language. She tries to stagger to her feet, but each time she doubles over and sinks to the floor as another spasm of pain hits her. Eventually, she is able to get to her feet and support herself on the lectern. Her hair is falling over her face, her voice quavers, her words are interrupted by moans of pain. Finally, she gives up and one of the sycophants who always sits in the front row helps her away to rest. She knows that she will never command the respect she once had, as everyone will remember her humiliation at my hand.
That’s it. The best way I know to help a boring meeting pass quickly.
I’ve just been summoned to her office. There’s no doubt about what she wants me for I clear my desk and put my personal effects into my bag. I know I won’t be coming back, because today it ceased to be a fantasy any more. I actually did it. Almost without realising it, the fantasy had become so vivid for me that I could no longer distinguish it from reality.
But as I walk along the corridor, with some of my colleagues gazing at me in admiration while others avoid catching my eye, I remember the feeling of my hand crashing into her crotch and I feel a dampness between my thighs as I stride purposively along.
My favourite fantasy is about the CEO of my division. She is always so prime and proper. Her make-up is perfect, there’s not a hair out of place on her head, she is always immaculately dressed, usually in trouser suits that display her muscular thighs and trim little ass, with a tight blouse showing her tiny tits. I’ve never seen her crotch, but it’s either totally bald or her pubes are closely cropped and neatly trimmed, probably in a thin landing strip.
She always thinks before speaking and then speaks very calmly in measured tones. I like to imagine what she is like when she gets ruffled. What is she like when she fucks? I can’t imagine her letting some guy hump her. She’s bound to want to be on top. But what is she like when she has an orgasm? Does she swear or shout?
In my fantasy, she is addressing a meeting, standing at the front, legs slightly apart, her body perfectly balanced on her high heels. She has a lectern, but it’s part of her style to move to stand in front of it, which is good for me, very good. As she is speaking, I get out of my seat and make my way up the side of the hall to the podium. I bide my time, letting her get everyone’s attention, giving her time to forget that I am standing off to her side. As she finishes her presentation, I step forward, moving quickly to stand beside and deliver a sharp chop into her pussy with the side of my hand. Just one, full power, dead centre. Is it my imagination or can I feel her clit as my hand crushes them? Funny, I’ve never thought about her pussy. Does she have those nice dangling furls, like I do, or thick lips? No, she’ll have a tight thin slit.
Then I step back to watch her every reaction. She goes pale and shudders, teetering slightly on her heels, before doubling over and sinking to the floor, her manicured hand clutched tight into her crotch. Then she lets out a long howl of pain and begins cursing me in the foulest language. Everyone in the meeting stares at her in astonishment, embarrassed to see her humiliated like this and shocked at the language. She tries to stagger to her feet, but each time she doubles over and sinks to the floor as another spasm of pain hits her. Eventually, she is able to get to her feet and support herself on the lectern. Her hair is falling over her face, her voice quavers, her words are interrupted by moans of pain. Finally, she gives up and one of the sycophants who always sits in the front row helps her away to rest. She knows that she will never command the respect she once had, as everyone will remember her humiliation at my hand.
That’s it. The best way I know to help a boring meeting pass quickly.
I’ve just been summoned to her office. There’s no doubt about what she wants me for I clear my desk and put my personal effects into my bag. I know I won’t be coming back, because today it ceased to be a fantasy any more. I actually did it. Almost without realising it, the fantasy had become so vivid for me that I could no longer distinguish it from reality.
But as I walk along the corridor, with some of my colleagues gazing at me in admiration while others avoid catching my eye, I remember the feeling of my hand crashing into her crotch and I feel a dampness between my thighs as I stride purposively along.