Swati’s experiments

Rico drove home that night in a blur. He had always liked Swati. A lot. Both professionally and personally. And the last thing he would ever want to do is cause her harm. But he couldn’t get the thought of her reading Erotic Sex Stories at work out of his mind. He didn’t want to enact anything nefarious, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun.

After dinner, he executed stage one of his plan. He opened up Desibahu.com, found her username, and clicked the Contact tab. In the dialog box, he wrote the following:

“Hey there. In browsing through this site, I noticed you and I have liked a lot of the same stories. I think you might enjoy some of mine, which were written with similar themes. I write under the pseudonym Abob1. I hope you get a chance to read them and let me know what you think.”

He went to bed with fantasies of how she might respond. He knew she would like his stories, given the other stories she had favorited. But maybe she didn’t socialize on the site, or maybe she used a fake email to register and never received any emails from the portal.

But in the morning, there was a response.

“Abob1, thank you for writing. I actually have read some of your stories before and loved them. I particularly like the Fulfilling the Prerequisites storyline. I, myself, have similar fantasies, though I doubt they will be fulfilled in real life.”

This was nearly the perfect reply. An admission of her fetishes, and an inkling of hope that they might actually happen. He quickly replied.

“Thank you for getting back to me. That was my favorite story to write. Took a long time, but it was worth the effort.

If you don’t mind my asking, why wouldn’t your fantasies ever come true?”

After breakfast, she replied.

“Given that this is anonymous, I don’t mind sharing. I am of Indian heritage, and in the area of India where I grew up, nobody ever talked about sex. My husband and I have only ever been intimate with the intent of conceiving, which we have only succeeded in doing once. We have a beautiful child, but our sex is dull, pedestrian, anemic. My husband doesn’t even like me to see him naked, and he never seems to want to see me, even though I would be considered sexy in most societies.

Any ideas on how I could break out of this rut? Lol! #jokingnotjoking”

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Rico couldn’t help but to feel sorry for Swati. Maybe this is why she was a workaholic. Nothing exciting to come home to. And damn, what a waste of beauty.

He clicked reply, but could not decide what to say for several minutes. Finally, he wrote:

“Sounds like you need to break up the monotony a little. My wife and I went through something similar a few years ago. This might sound like a typical guy solution, but it worked. I did some innocent flirting with a girl I liked in the office. It never amounted to anything, but it revved me up sexually. I would arrive home insatiable. My wife never knew what came over me, but she liked it. It reignited our fire.

Might you be willing to try something similar? Is there anyone in the office you find at least mildly attractive? ”

After clicking send, his heart started racing. He had made the whole thing up in the hopes that Swati might try some innocent flirtation with him at the office. He didn’t even have a wife, let alone relationship issues. But he thought trying to relate to her issues might help ease her tensions.

Before he had time to dwell on it, he received a reply.

“That does sound like a typical guy solution. Not sure I could get away with that, especially since I’m in charge. I could get in some serious trouble if a subordinate is made uncomfortable by my advances. Thanks, though.”

He quickly wrote back, sensing that the “thanks, though” was an indication her interests were waning.

“Don’t be ridiculous. No heterosexual man has ever minded a beautiful woman flirting with him. Even if the chances are zero, its flattering. It gives them confidence. Trust me…do something on Monday that could subtly be considered flirting. Try wearing something just slightly fancier – or more flirty – than you would typically wear at the office. Nothing blatant, so it would be easy to justify, and defend, should it ever come to that (it won’t).”

He was thrilled with her reply.

“We’ll see. I’ll let you know what I decide.”

Swati decided to do it. What could it hurt? A little innocent flirtation would never get her in trouble. She wouldn’t cheat on her husband. She’d recognized other women in the office hit on a couple of the guys in a lewder way than she planned on doing it. They probably wouldn’t even call what she was going to do flirting.

She did decide to wear a pencil skirt, which she would normally reserve for meetings with the board. No doubt, it would be considered conservative in most circles, but her co-workers noticed the shift away from her typical pant suits.

“Hey, boss. What’s the occasion?”

“Did I miss a memo about the corporate brass coming in today?”

“Damn, Swati! Looking good!”

This last comment, from one of her female colleagues, made her blush. Apparently her change in attire was more obvious than she anticipated. But for as conservative as this look was, she began to wonder if perhaps her typical ensemble was a bit too hyper-conservative.

One of the last employees to arrive was Rico, who poked his head in to see how far Swati had gone for him. He was thrilled that she had dressed up a little, but was disappointed she didn’t go a little further with it. Not wanting to let on, he kept himself composed.

“Morning, boss. Have a good weekend?”

“Oh, good morning, Rico. Yes, nothing out of the ordinary, you?”

“Same,” he replied. “You know where to find me if you need me.”

In that brief interaction, Swati felt herself flush. She sensed her breasts swell gently, and the hairs on her arms stood up. Literally no sign of flirtation on either part, but it was exciting for her, given the assignment her online correspondence had provided. Ultimately, though, she was a little disappointed he didn’t specifically say anything about her look.

A few hours into the day, she received an email alert on her phone. It was from Abob1.

“I would love to see a photo of what you chose to wear today.”

Swati gulped. She knew she could disguise herself well enough to avoid any sort of blackmail, but the idea of sending pictures of herself to any man, especially one that wasn’t her husband, gave her a tingle. She pushed her chair out from her desk, switched her phone to selfie mode, and positioned the frame so that it cropped her head, but caught the rest of her seated body. She sent it off to him.

A minute later, he replied.

“Thank you for the picture, but I’m going to go out on a limb say that you didn’t compel him to make any comments with that outfit. You’re hot, no question, but if you want to initiate office flirtation, you probably have to be a bit more obvious. Try undoing the top button or two, show a little cleavage. Send me an updated pic.”

Swati skin was starting to glisten now. She had never done anything remotely sexual with anyone other than her husband, and this was much more thrilling than anything they’d done together. The reserved part of her mind wanted to ignore this request, get back to work, and reengage on Friday when she typically masturbated after work. But that was five days away, and she was too turned on at the moment.

She locked the office door and returned to her chair. After undoing the top two buttons, she sat back in her chair and took a similar picture, this time showing a healthy dose of cleavage. Her shirt hung open obscenely, her bra was clearly visible, and the design of that bra exposed most of her breasts. Before snapping the pic, a naughty thought came over her. She uncrossed her legs and left her knees a few inches apart.

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