"Worked hard today?" she whispered, her voice low and teasing as she tugged on my tie. Her lips curled into that wicked smile I’d come to crave, and before I could answer, she shoved me back against the desk—his desk. The edge dug into my lower back, but I didn’t care. Not when she was this close, her perfume wrapping around me like a promise.I didn’t have to look to know she’d locked the door behind us. She always did. It was part of the game, part of the thrill. The office was quiet now, save for the hum of the overhead lights and the sound of her heels on the carpet as she stepped closer. The faint click of the lock was like a starting gun, and my pulse quickened. "You’re late," she said, her voice husky, her eyes locking onto mine. She tilted her head slightly, her dark hair brushing against her bare shoulders. "I was beginning to think you’d chickened out." "Never," I replied, my voice steady despite the way my heart was racing. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander over her. She was wearing one of those dresses again—the kind that hugged every curve, the kind that made it impossible to look away. The neckline dipped just enough to give me a glimpse of what I knew was waiting beneath, and when she leaned in, her cleavage was almost too much to handle. "Mmm," she hummed, her fingers trailing down my chest, stopping just above the waistband of my pants. "Good boy. You know how I like punctuality." Her touch was electric, and I hated how easily she could reduce me to this—to a man desperate for her attention, willing to risk everything just to feel her hands on me. She knew it too. That’s why she loved doing this, why she loved teasing me until I thought I might lose my mind. She moved closer, her body pressing against mine, and I could feel the heat radiating off her. Her breath was warm against my neck as she leaned in, her lips brushing my ear. "Do you know what I want tonight?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. She knew exactly what I wanted, what I needed, and she wasn’t going to give it to me—not yet. Not without making me beg for it first. Her fingers found the knot of my tie, and she began to loosen it, her movements slow and deliberate. She dragged it free from my collar, letting it hang loose around my neck as she smirked up at me. "You’ve been a good employee these past few weeks," she said, her tone mocking. "So dedicated. So… loyal." The way she said it made my stomach twist. She knew why I stayed late every night, why I worked so hard to keep up appearances. It wasn’t for him. It was for her. Always for her. "And you know what good employees get?" she continued, her hand sliding down my chest again, stopping just above my belt buckle. She looked up at me through her lashes, her lips parted slightly, and I could feel my resolve crumbling. "A reward?" I asked, my voice rough. Her smile widened, and she leaned in even closer, her lips brushing against mine as she spoke. "Exactly." But before I could kiss her, before I could give in to the temptation that was driving me mad, she pulled away, leaving me hanging. She took a step back, her heels clicking softly on the carpet as she walked around the desk. Her hips swayed with every step, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She stopped on the other side of the desk, leaning against it with one hand while the other trailed along the edge of the wood. "But first," she said, her voice dripping with mischief, "I think you owe me something." I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. "What’s that?" Her smile turned predatory, and she tilted her head slightly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "A confession." I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. "A confession?" "Yes," she purred, her fingers drumming lightly on the desk. "Tell me why you’re really here." I hesitated, torn between the truth and the lie I’d been telling myself—and everyone else—for weeks. But there was no point in lying to her. She already knew the truth. "I’m here for you," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. She smiled, clearly pleased with my answer, and took a step closer. "Good," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Because tonight, I want you to show me just how much you mean it." My heart raced as she moved around the desk, closing the distance between us once more. Her hand found its way to my chest again, resting over my pounding heart as she leaned in, her lips brushing against mine. "But not yet," she whispered, pulling away just as quickly as she’d come. She stepped back, her gaze never leaving mine, and I could feel the tension between us thickening with every passing second. My eyes followed her as she moved to the window, her silhouette outlined by the city lights outside. She leaned against the glass, one hand resting on her hip as she looked back at me over her shoulder. "Do you ever wonder," she said softly, her voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioning, "what he would do if he found out about us?" The question hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and ominous. I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I let my eyes roam over her figure, taking in every detail—the curve of her waist, the way her dress clung to her hips, the hint of lace peeking out from beneath the hem when she shifted her weight. "What do you think he’d do?" I asked finally, my voice low and steady. She turned to face me fully, her eyes narrowing slightly as she considered my question. For a moment, she said nothing, and the silence stretched between us like a thread about to snap. Then she smiled—that same wicked smile that always made my stomach flip—and took a step toward me. "I think," she said slowly, "he’d be very surprised to find out just how loyal his most dedicated employee really is." I swallowed hard, the weight of her words settling over me like a heavy blanket. She was right—if he found out, if anyone found out—it would be over for both of us. But looking at her now, standing there with that dangerous glint in her eyes and that irresistible curve to her lips, I couldn’t bring myself to care. "Maybe he already knows," I said quietly, my eyes locking onto hers as I stepped closer. She tilted her head slightly, her smile widening into a grin that sent shivers down my spine. "Maybe he does," she agreed softly. But neither of us had time to dwell on that thought because just then, there was a faint sound from outside the door—a soft shuffle of footsteps that made us both freeze. Her eyes widened slightly, and for the first time since I’d walked into this room tonight

In the quiet office, she locked the door behind us, her perfume enveloping me as she pushed me against his desk, her voice husky as she teased me for being late. I admitted to her that I was there for her, not him, and she smiled, pleased with my confession. As she moved to the window, we both froze at the sound of footsteps outside the door.

"Worked hard today?" she whispered, her voice low and teasing as she tugged on my tie. Her lips curled into that wicked smile I’d come to crave, and before I could answer, she shoved me back against the desk—*his* desk. The edge dug into my lower back, but I didn’t care. Not when she was this close, her perfume wrapping around me like a promise.

I didn’t have to look to know she’d locked the door behind us. She always did. It was part of the game, part of the thrill. The office was quiet now, save for the hum of the overhead lights and the sound of her heels on the carpet as she stepped closer. The faint click of the lock was like a starting gun, and my pulse quickened.  

"You’re late," she said, her voice husky, her eyes locking onto mine. She tilted her head slightly, her dark hair brushing against her bare shoulders. "I was beginning to think you’d chickened out." 

"Never," I replied, my voice steady despite the way my heart was racing. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander over her. She was wearing one of those dresses again—the kind that hugged every curve, the kind that made it impossible to look away. The neckline dipped just enough to give me a glimpse of what I knew was waiting beneath, and when she leaned in, her cleavage was almost too much to handle. 

"Mmm," she hummed, her fingers trailing down my chest, stopping just above the waistband of my pants. "Good boy. You know how I like punctuality." 

Her touch was electric, and I hated how easily she could reduce me to this—to a man desperate for her attention, willing to risk everything just to feel her hands on me. She knew it too. That’s why she loved doing this, why she loved teasing me until I thought I might lose my mind.  

She moved closer, her body pressing against mine, and I could feel the heat radiating off her. Her breath was warm against my neck as she leaned in, her lips brushing my ear. "Do you know what I want tonight?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. 

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. She knew exactly what I wanted, what I *needed*, and she wasn’t going to give it to me—not yet. Not without making me beg for it first.  

Her fingers found the knot of my tie, and she began to loosen it, her movements slow and deliberate. She dragged it free from my collar, letting it hang loose around my neck as she smirked up at me. "You’ve been a good employee these past few weeks," she said, her tone mocking. "So dedicated. So… *loyal*." 

The way she said it made my stomach twist. She knew why I stayed late every night, why I worked so hard to keep up appearances. It wasn’t for him. It was for her. Always for her.  

"And you know what good employees get?" she continued, her hand sliding down my chest again, stopping just above my belt buckle. She looked up at me through her lashes, her lips parted slightly, and I could feel my resolve crumbling.  

"A reward?" I asked, my voice rough. 

Her smile widened, and she leaned in even closer, her lips brushing against mine as she spoke. "Exactly."  

But before I could kiss her, before I could give in to the temptation that was driving me mad, she pulled away, leaving me hanging. She took a step back, her heels clicking softly on the carpet as she walked around the desk. Her hips swayed with every step, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.  

She stopped on the other side of the desk, leaning against it with one hand while the other trailed along the edge of the wood. "But first," she said, her voice dripping with mischief, "I think you owe me something." 

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. "What’s that?" 

Her smile turned predatory, and she tilted her head slightly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "A confession."  

I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. "A confession?" 

"Yes," she purred, her fingers drumming lightly on the desk. "Tell me why you’re really here." 

I hesitated, torn between the truth and the lie I’d been telling myself—and everyone else—for weeks. But there was no point in lying to her. She already knew the truth.  

"I’m here for you," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. 

She smiled, clearly pleased with my answer, and took a step closer. "Good," she said, her voice soft but firm. "Because tonight, I want you to show me just how much you mean it." 

My heart raced as she moved around the desk, closing the distance between us once more. Her hand found its way to my chest again, resting over my pounding heart as she leaned in, her lips brushing against mine.  

"But not yet," she whispered, pulling away just as quickly as she’d come. 

She stepped back, her gaze never leaving mine, and I could feel the tension between us thickening with every passing second. My eyes followed her as she moved to the window, her silhouette outlined by the city lights outside. She leaned against the glass, one hand resting on her hip as she looked back at me over her shoulder.  

"Do you ever wonder," she said softly, her voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioning, "what he would do if he found out about us?"  

The question hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and ominous. I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I let my eyes roam over her figure, taking in every detail—the curve of her waist, the way her dress clung to her hips, the hint of lace peeking out from beneath the hem when she shifted her weight.  

"What do you think he’d do?" I asked finally, my voice low and steady. 

She turned to face me fully, her eyes narrowing slightly as she considered my question. For a moment, she said nothing, and the silence stretched between us like a thread about to snap.  

Then she smiled—that same wicked smile that always made my stomach flip—and took a step toward me. "I think," she said slowly, "he’d be very surprised to find out just how loyal his most dedicated employee really is."  

I swallowed hard, the weight of her words settling over me like a heavy blanket. She was right—if he found out, if anyone found out—it would be over for both of us. But looking at her now, standing there with that dangerous glint in her eyes and that irresistible curve to her lips, I couldn’t bring myself to care.  

"Maybe he already knows," I said quietly, my eyes locking onto hers as I stepped closer.  

She tilted her head slightly, her smile widening into a grin that sent shivers down my spine. "Maybe he does," she agreed softly.  

But neither of us had time to dwell on that thought because just then, there was a faint sound from outside the door—a soft shuffle of footsteps that made us both freeze. Her eyes widened slightly, and for the first time since I’d walked into this room tonight

A hardworking office employee stays late every night, not for his job, but to secretly rendezvous with his boss's wife. Their illicit encounters are filled with intense sexual tension, hidden desires, and the thrill of potentially being caught, as they engage in passionate and dangerous affairs in the office. The wife, who is curvy and always dressed to tease, enjoys the power she holds over him and the forbidden nature of their relationship, while he is willing to risk everything just to be with her.

My boss thinks I stay overtime for work but the truth is, I stay for his wife

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