"Hey, Lynn, good morning! Did the new girl arrive yet? Sasha?"
"Mary, morning to you too. Oh, didn't I tell you? I thought I had. Sasha is a man. I can assure you, he is perfect for the job, don't you worry. You will love him. He's in the kitchen."
A male secretary? This was unusual, but Mary didn't mind at all. If he was good at the job, nothing else mattered. She followed her assistant to the kitchen. She could smell the fresh coffee and her mouth watered with anticipation. As she stepped into the room, time stopped for a split second. The new secretary, Sasha, stood beside the table, pouring himself a cup of coffee. And he was gorgeous. Sasha smiled.
"Hello, Mrs. Frey. I'm Sasha. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
He held his hand out for her to shake. Mary realized she was staring at him and quickly took his hand in hers. It was warm and firm, full of youth. Mary felt tingly all of a sudden. She told him how glad she was to meet him and almost ran to her office. Her heart was beating faster than usual. This young man was definitely something.
Mary was 40. She had spent most of her adult life on her own, with very few sexual encounters. She enjoyed having sex but she loved her job even more. Sometimes, she went out with colleagues or old friends and got hit on, but that was it. Mary was attractive: blonde hair, grey eyes, tall, thin, with a nice round ass and decent breasts, but she never felt the need to dress sexy. She was more of the quiet type. But now that she had met Sasha, deep down she knew something was about to change.
She spent all morning in her office, avoiding contact with the young man. At lunch time, she ordered food from a local diner; when it came, Sasha brought it to her in person. She held her breath until he left. The way his pants fit closely around his ass when he walked, shaping it just enough for her to want to grab it. What was happening to her? Mary blushed. She ate her chicken salad without really tasting it. All she could think about was her new secretary's ass in those tight black pants. How old was he? 23? 25, at most. She started imagining what Sasha looked like naked. He was taller than her, slim, with dark hair. He had a kind face. Did he have a girlfriend? If so, did they fuck often? Mary pictured Sasha naked on her own bed, his back against the pillows and a hand on his dick. What did it look like? Was it long, or short and thick? How long had it been since she last had sex? She couldn't remember. More than a year, probably.