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Addison Crouse, MBA

Addison Crouse, MBA: Flash Sex Fiction Erotica

Joe Brewster

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Joe Brewster/transgressivefiction

Smashwords Edition

I hope you enjoy my little story. Thank you for your support.



oooOOOooo

Addison Crouse sat eating her lunch at her desk while going over reports for her upcoming presentation. Or, rather, she picked at her salad absent-mindedly as she focused, as she always did, on what was important: The bottom line.

A sudden disturbance interrupted her concentration. A man from the nursery brought a plant, a small tree, into her office and placed it just inside the door.

The tall, dark, figure spoke, "They told me to bring this in here."

Addison looked up to see a rugged, well-built, blue-collar body and felt a soft tug inside her. She wasn’t used to seeing the kind of sculpted physique a man earns through hard manual labor. It moved her in ways a gym-crafted body never could.

His righteous muscles rippled beneath his tight khaki uniform, threatening to shred the fabric and burst their seams as he mopped his handsome brow with a plain white cotton hanky.

"Put that in the corner," Addison commanded succinctly--- the first of a set of much more intimate commands she hoped he’d follow.

"They told me to bring it in here. I brought in here. You want it moved around that's your problem," he said. He looked at her like moving that plant another inch was the craziest thing he’d ever heard of.

Addison was taken aback. Not sure if it was this Neanderthal's attitude or the manly scent that seeped from his dampened armpits that gave her pause. The air was pungent with his manly scent.

He took her silence as his cue to have a seat and take a load off.

"You have to excuse me,” he told her. “I don't get off the farm much. I'm just filling in on deliveries today because Gus called in sick. I hate the city."

She fixed him with a stare that was supposed to make him jump up and apologize for his rude behavior. It didn't register. She was so accustomed to getting the reaction she wanted from menials, that is, making them jump, that his smoldering inaction left her disoriented.

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