Improper Conduct

IMPROPER CONDUCT

Misbehaviour at Work

A Mischief Collection of Erotica

Contents

Title Page

Model Employee Donna George Storey

Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Lolita Lopez

Work It Heather Towne

Peaches Lizzie Behan

Military Police Georgie Taylor

Between The Covers Elizabeth Coldwell

Bodies Lux Zakari

The Invisible Woman Amber Leigh

In Your Dreams Chrissie Bentley

Stud Farm Deva Shore

More from Mischief

About Mischief

Copyright

About the Publisher

Model Employee

Donna George Storey

Thirty minutes. That’s all the time she had until the meeting began. Zara took the stairs two at a time, but stopped to collect herself before she pushed open the door to the fourth floor. Officially this wing of the building was not in use by her company, but the clever planning that served her well in her career was equally useful for this particular action item.

Chin held high, she strode into the hallway. If she happened to meet anyone, she would confidently claim she was on her way to the CEO’s office to discuss her upcoming presentation. Yet, in the six months she’d been engaging in this special ‘preparation’ for important staff meetings, she’d never met a soul.

With one final glance down the empty corridor, she slipped into the WC by the stairwell and locked the door behind her. It might seem strange to make a special trip upstairs to answer the call of nature, to put it one way, but Zara was partial to this particular room. It was of an intimate size, with a sink, a single stall and a lounging bed upholstered in fake leather. The lighting was unusually flattering thanks to the sconces around the mirrors, and the air always had the fresh scent of lemony disinfectant cleaner. Zara suspected it was rarely used, except by her for this very special purpose.

She hung her purse and suit jacket on the hook by the sink and turned to study herself in the full-length mirror. She looked a little tired, she thought, although she was pleased with her new haircut that just grazed her jawline. Sophisticated it was, the perfect look for a vice president of marketing. She gave herself a sly smile. She had twenty-eight minutes now.

Still gazing at her reflection, she began to unbutton her blouse. She pulled it slightly down over her shoulders and unsnapped her white satin bra by its front hook. The cups parted and her breasts spilled out, as if eager to escape their workaday bondage. Her nipples were already stiff and rosy.

Her secret muscles clenched with anticipation, and she bit her lip to keep from moaning. If only the company elites could gather here instead of the conference room on the floor below. What would they say to see her like this, breasts exposed, chest splotched with sexual rash, eyes hooded with lust?

‘My model employee,’ Michael Jones, the CEO, would tell her. He always said this in a slightly flirtatious tone, but he did in fact seem pleased with her work.

But now she was of a mind to model a different professional behaviour – the kind you find in a red-light district. Zara took her breasts in her hands and began to massage them lightly, half for her own pleasure, half for the show on display in the silvery world receding before her.

‘Oh, my God, I can’t believe it. She’s standing there playing with her bare tits in front of everyone,’ a husky male voice murmured in her ear.

‘You’re going to enjoy this week’s presentation,’ promised another, sounding very much like the CEO.

‘Pardon me, sir, but what might we expect on today’s agenda?’

‘First Ms Reynolds will masturbate for us until she comes. If we’ve shown her our appreciation with plenty of lewd comments, she’ll choose one lucky man to bang her on the conference table until she climaxes again.’

‘Choose me, darling, I’ll give your cunt a good ploughing.’

Zara pinched her nipples, twisting the hard nubs between her fingers. She didn’t need to answer. She didn’t even really know who these phantom men were, but their crude words aroused her like nothing else.

‘Lovely breasts, but why don’t you show us your bare bottom and your pretty lady parts as well?’

Obligingly Zara unzipped and let her wool pants slither down around her knees. She yanked her satin panties down and spread her thighs as if to show herself to a roomful of voyeurs.

‘There’s a quim I’d like to get to know better.’

‘Touch it, sweetheart. Touch your hard clit. That’s what we’re here to see.’

Zara dropped one hand between her legs and pressed a finger to her sweet spot.

‘Suggestible, isn’t she, boss?’

‘She’s my model employee,’ observed the CEO.

Zara hastily glanced at her watch. Five minutes had passed. She began to strum herself industriously, aware of the soft click of her lubricated flesh.

‘I love to watch that finger jiggle, but you’re running out of time. I think you need the help of your special “friend”.’

Unfortunately the man was right. Zara did have a tight schedule today. She waddled over to her purse as best she could with her pants around her knees and fished out her treasure. She pulled the egg-shaped vibrator from its case and switched it on. It cost over a hundred dollars and was advertised to be absolutely quiet. It was indeed – except for the gasps that leaked from her lips when she held the shivering tip to her clitoris.

Again she faced the mirror. She licked her palm and brushed it over her nipple in slow circles. With the other hand, she held the toy to her mons.

‘Oh, sweet Jesus!’ That was Zara’s voice, hissing out her pleasure when the vibrator made contact.

‘She’ll come like a rocket and then one of us will have her,’ said a voice. ‘It doesn’t take her long to come again with a cock buried inside her.’

A hazy veil of lust dropped over Zara’s eyes, but she kept her gaze fixed on the female body before her. The woman in the mirror was so sexually aroused that her breasts were mottled with a pink flush, her thighs were shaking and her ass bucked up as if the vibrator were a man’s groin. The burning sensation around her clit expanded, pushing up into her belly like a balloon. With wild eyes, she glanced down at her watch on her left wrist. Thirteen minutes until the meeting began.

She pressed the toy deeper into her flesh.

And came.

Zara squeezed her eyes shut, lost in the searingly pleasurable sensation pulsing through her body. When the last spasm subsided, she opened her eyes again and flashed herself another smile. But she had no time to waste. She immediately hiked up her slacks and fastened her bra and blouse. She dabbed her face with a handkerchief, applied fresh lipstick, and brushed out her hair. There was nothing like an orgasm to improve one’s appearance.

‘Why’s she leaving? Didn’t you say one of us gets to fuck her now?’

‘Maybe next time, if you’re good,’ Zara murmured under her breath. Poor lad, trapped in the mirror with a throbbing hard-on. Didn’t he know not to trust any promises a woman made before, when she’d tell a man anything to get what she needed for her release?

She was still smiling at her own joke as she pushed open the ladies’ room door.

And nearly ran right into a man passing by.

‘Oh, pardon me,’ she cried.

‘No, pardon me,’ he said, equally surprised at her sudden appearance out of nowhere.

Zara noted that the man had a pleasantly deep voice. She instinctively looked up into his face. He wasn’t bad looking either, rather her type with his square face and intelligent blue eyes, not to mention the stocky body type she favoured in her men. More to wrap your legs around.

‘I didn’t know there were any offices in use up here,’ he said.

‘Oh, there aren’t, I was just coming back from a meeting with the CEO, and now I’m off to another meeting,’ Zara babbled. Not that she owed a visitor any explanations.

The man cocked his head. ‘I was just with your CEO for the past hour. And now I’m going to the weekly executive status meeting on the third floor. Is that where you’re headed?’

Caught in her lie, Zara’s cheeks turned to flame. ‘Yes, actually. I’m afraid I didn’t realise we’d have guests at the meeting today.’

To her relief, the man only smiled and began walking toward the stairwell. She followed.

‘I’m not exactly a guest. I’m a consultant. Michael asked me in to evaluate the company’s current organisation.’

Zara frowned. That kind of consultant often meant someone lost her job or was transferred to the Siberia of ‘special projects’.

The man seemed to read her thoughts. ‘I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. We’re talking fine tuning here. By the way, I’m Paul Springfield, principal with Springfield Management Training.’ He held out his hand.

‘Zara Reynolds. VP of marketing.’

Paul’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Zara Reynolds? What a coincidence. Michael was just telling me to pay special attention to you. He said you give the best damn presentations in the company.’

Could it be that at the very moment she was practising her private warm-up exercise, Michael and this stranger were discussing her charisma before an audience?

‘I don’t mean to put you on the spot. Your boss is just very impressed with you,’ Paul said. This man certainly seemed considerate, if nothing else. ‘By the way, I’m glad to see you like to get your blood pumping during the workday.’

Again she was speechless. It was as if he knew what she’d been doing.

‘I also try to take the stairs instead of the elevator for exercise whenever I can,’ he continued innocently and set off at a brisk pace down the stairway.

In spite of herself, Zara joined him, although she would have preferred to disappear into the woodwork. Still, if her boss and this intriguing outsider were expecting her to perform well at the meeting, she would not disappoint them.

***

Zara’s presentation did go very well. Once in the conference room, she quickly recovered the easy confidence she always felt after a good orgasm. Far from throwing her off her game, Paul’s sky-blue eyes provided an extra spark. In fact, her entire audience seemed captivated by her report, laughing freely at her jokes, nodding enthusiastic agreement at her suggestions.

‘They were right about you,’ Paul murmured as she brushed past him on her way out.

She just smiled.

She found herself smiling at Paul often over the next month of his consultant work. They ran into each other daily on the stairways, and both favoured the organic vegetarian restaurant near the office. Over lunch one day, he let it be known that he’d been divorced for a few years. She mentioned the relationship she’d ended when she moved to the city to take this job. Halfway through his project, Paul confessed he’d love to take her out to his favourite upscale vegetarian restaurant for dinner, but he made it a policy never to mix business with pleasure. Might she have a free evening after he’d turned in his final evaluation?

Zara’s smile promised more than dinner. After all, she’d already been indulging herself in scandalous behaviour with Paul during her breaks in her special hideaway. She still performed for her colleagues, but Paul took on the role of emcee now. His satin voice narrated each new move in obscene language; his large hands and hot mouth demonstrated particularly effective techniques to heighten her response. When she was feeling really naughty, Paul would whip out a fat, florid erection and instruct her to fellate him while he leaned back against the conference table. He always pulled out just in time to ejaculate pearly spunk all over her face for the edification of her watching co-workers.

The climaxes she had from these lascivious scenes were fabulous.

Soon after he finished his work with her company, Paul did ask her to dinner, and soon after that, they went to bed together. She was not disappointed. The first night had a leisurely, innocent festivity, as if they were teenagers discovering sex for the first time. Once he realised she was adventurous, however, he revealed his true nature as a sexual connoisseur. He introduced her to his collection of special pillows to facilitate unusual sexual positions – wedges and bolsters and rockers, which he covered in washable satin cases – and draped her body over them in the most stimulating ways.

Unbeknownst to him, he also became bolder at the imaginary company meetings, urging her to masturbate shamelessly with a long, veined dildo and bending her over the table and sodomising her in front of the assembled employees to the surprise and delight of all. Nothing made her hotter than these forbidden scenes, which she sometimes played in her head as they made love, but she still wasn’t sure the real Paul would be able to handle her transgressive use of office hours. After all, his first impression of her was as a model employee.

That changed one day when they were enjoying brunch at the corner table in their favourite café after a Saturday morning of sweaty sex involving a pair of lacy crotchless knickers (hers) and multiple configurations of sex pillows (his). Over tofu scrambles, Paul took Zara’s hand across the table and gazed into her eyes.

‘You look so gorgeous right now. But then you’ve always looked radiant to me from the first moment I laid eyes on you.’

Zara laughed indulgently.

‘I figured you’d been making yourself up in that ladies’ room. But now I know it’s just your natural beauty. You have a glow every time we’re together.’

If only he knew.

‘I always wondered, though …’

‘Yes?’

‘Well, I was wondering why you were in that deserted part of the building. I’m guessing that room has good lighting for make-up. Or you like to have a bit of exercise.’

‘Well, you’re right on both counts, but not for the reason you think.’ The words slipped out before Zara could stop herself. Then she blushed. Paul looked even more intrigued.

‘Come on, what’s up? I insist you tell me.’

Zara’s pussy contracted. She loved to submit to his commands when it came to sex, and this was unquestionably about sex. So she scooted her chair closer and brought her lips to his ear. ‘I do something, well, unprofessional in that room.’

He grinned. ‘What do you mean? Like you make calls to other companies to divulge secrets?’

‘Of course not.’ She leaned close again. ‘I “relax” myself when I’m feeling stressed. You know, with that toy I showed you the other night.’

Paul’s jaw dropped. ‘You mean when we first met you’d just been …? No wonder I fell for you at first sight.’

To Zara’s relief, he seemed far from appalled by her confession.

‘I want details. Come on, you can tell me all about it in the car.’

Once they were out of public hearing, she slowly divulged the basic facts: that she sneaked up to the deserted ladies’ room and pretended she was giving a sex show to her co-workers while she masturbated. She did not, however, mention the disembodied male voices or Paul’s own enthusiastic participation in the depravity. She was so caught up in her story, she didn’t notice he was driving them to her office until they’d parked in front of the building. She knew Paul well enough to guess what he had in mind.

‘What if we get caught?’ she asked helplessly.

‘It’s a Saturday,’ he insisted. ‘No one will be there. If they are, you can say you stopped in to pick up some work. You’re well known for your dedication to the company.’

Part of her wanted to refuse, but the tingling between her legs told her that she’d regret it.

‘OK, I’ll give you a peek at the scene of the crime, but that’s all.’

Paul gave her a ‘we’ll see’ smile and jumped out of the car.

He suggested they take the stairs, for authenticity’s sake, so Zara was properly flushed and breathless when they reached her secret room. She glanced quickly up and down the hall, opened the door and pulled him inside.

‘OK, you’ve seen it, now let’s go.’

Paul’s gaze caressed the forbidden surroundings, his eyes flickering. ‘What’s the hurry? Now exactly where do you put on your show? Facing the sink or the full-length mirror?’

‘The full-length, of course,’ she murmured. ‘I’ll give you a demonstration back at your place. We should get out of here now.’

Instead Paul put his hand to the small of her back and guided her over to face the mirror. He stood behind her. The bulge in his pants pressed lightly against her buttocks.

‘So, you stand here like this and then what do you do?’

‘Paul, please.’ In spite of herself, Zara’s knickers grew damp. Her breasts felt heavy and achy, desperate to be touched. Her body was so accustomed to the erotic indulgence that took place before this mirror, it was more than happy to go along with her lover’s designs.

‘Show me, Zara. Please.’

His voice was sweet and full of need, yet it was the edge of command that made her squirm back against him.

‘No one will see you but me.’

Her final protest died in her throat. For after all, wasn’t he giving her exactly what she’d dreamed of during those stolen interludes: to be seen and desired by an appreciative male in the flesh?

She began to unbutton her blouse with trembling hands. Paul let out a soft sigh of victory. Her bra unhooked from behind today, but she managed that by pushing down the sagging bra cups so her pink nipples peeped over the top.

She paused. She’d touched herself in his presence before, but only under the blankets, in low light. She’d never been so exposed. The pure exhibitionism of it made her light-headed.

‘You’re so beautiful, Zara. Please, do it. Do it for me.’

His words melted any lingering resistance. She cradled her breasts and pushed them up as if in offering to him. In the mirror he made a quick motion, as if he wanted to fondle her himself, but then thought better of it.

She took the stiff nipples between her fingers, rolling and tweaking the way she liked best.

‘Oh, God, that’s so fucking hot,’ Paul breathed. Then she saw him shake his head. ‘Sorry, sorry. I’ll try to stay quiet and just watch.’

‘No, please. I like it when they talk.’

‘“They?”’

What had she said? But Zara was beyond shame now.

‘The men watching. In the mirror. They say rude things to me. But I like it very much.’

Paul’s lips lifted in a knowing smile. ‘Do you? You like it when a man admits he’s got the hardest wood of his life watching you play with your naked tits in the ladies’ room when you should be downstairs doing an honest day’s work?’

Zara’s body jerked. Her knickers flooded with a gush of juices. He’d got it just right.

‘Well, do you?’ he pressed.

‘Yes, oh, God, yes.’

‘What else do you like to do, you trollop?’

‘I … I like to pull down my pants and touch myself while they watch.’ Zara stammered out the words, but she found, to her surprise, that the sound of her own voice saying naughty things aroused her as much as him.

‘I most definitely would like to see that little show. In fact, I’ve been imagining this since the day we met. I sat there in that meeting wondering what you’d look like with your shirt open and your pants pulled down. Sweating and squirming and begging for my prick. Is that what you want? Do you want me to fuck you here in your little self-love nest?’

Zara let out a moan of assent.

‘But first you should get yourself nice and wet. Take down your pants like a good girl and show me what you do when you’re alone. Not with that toy though. I want to see you get your fingers dirty.’

She fumbled with her belt and pushed her jeans and knickers down so her trimmed triangle of pubic hair was revealed. She jammed her hand between her legs and began to strum. He watched until her knees were wobbling and each breath was a groan.

‘Well done. I’m very impressed with your work, Zara, but I have to say I’m disappointed to hear you do your naughty business all on your own when every man in this company would be very motivated by this presentation.’

Zara let out a soft ‘oh’ of shame and desire. He pressed into her from behind and brought his hands around to cup her breasts. Flicking the nipples devilishly, he hissed in her ear, ‘Are you ready for my cock now, love? Do those men in the mirror put their cocks inside you, one after the other, as you lie back on the conference table?’

‘No,’ she admitted, her eyes fixed on his large hands squeezing her breasts with practised skill. ‘I promise them they can have me after I come, but then I do something very bad. I leave them trapped in there with their hard cocks still aching in their pants.’

‘Aren’t you the little cocktease? Well, that’s not going to happen today, is it? I know just how to give you what you deserve. I’m going to lie down on that couch and you’re going to ride me like a cowgirl. Take off all your clothes now and get a condom out of your purse. Be quick. Every boss likes an employee who takes directions well.’

Zara was all too happy to follow his instructions. Paul pushed his jeans down to his thighs and stretched out on the couch, looking rather lordly. He watched coolly as she sheathed him, but couldn’t restrain a moan when she sank down onto his tool.

‘Watch yourself,’ he whispered. ‘Watch yourself get what’s coming to you after teasing all of those poor men with your naughty show.’

Zara ground her clit into him, her eyes dutifully fixed on her own nude body. The sight gave her a secret thrill. She might look more vulnerable than he did, all dressed and proper as he was, but she knew she held the real power within her naked, radiant flesh. She bucked and whimpered as the sensations intensified in her pussy. Her skin shimmered with a thin film of sweat. She could tell Paul was close, too. Could he hold out for her? She clutched him with her secret muscles, willing herself to finish first.

Then, as if he’d pushed himself inside her head as well as her body, he barked out another order. ‘Be quick about it now, Zara. You have to be at a meeting in fifteen minutes.’

It was the perfect touch.

She cried out and rammed herself onto him as the orgasm ripped up through her torso. Bucking and sobbing, she milked him until her contractions faded. Then he began to thrust, up and up into her. She tightened her thighs around him, really riding him like a cowgirl at a rodeo. He grunted like an animal as he emptied himself into her. She watched that in the mirror, too.

She had to admit Paul, too, looked especially radiant after a good orgasm.

Afterwards, they lay together on the couch idly admiring their own reflections.

‘Now I know why you enchant every man in the room. You’re standing up there all smug and satisfied, still wet and swollen in your knickers, while you lecture us on marketing strategy. On some level we know it, and we’re transfixed by every word.’

‘Perhaps you might suggest my approach as a model the next time you tell some poor CEO how to improve morale,’ she teased.

‘First I’m going to have to study your methods further. Do promise you’ll invite me back here some time. For professional observation, of course.’

Zara flashed them both a secret smile in the mirror.

That was an action item she was sure to follow up on.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Lolita Lopez

It was all that scratching and tugging that got me so hot. I kept my eyes closed as Blake shampooed my hair. Her perfectly manicured nails scratched my scalp, setting the skin alight with tingles as she swirled her fingertips through my foamy hair. The scent of the ultra-expensive vegan shampoo, a heady mix of peppermint and the woodsy musk of cedar, filled my nose and relaxed me. The soft lavender notes of her perfume complemented the shampoo and left me wanting to inhale more deeply.