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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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SETTING THE SCENE
“I can understand now why you won’t use the web cam.”
Miranda strode down the large stark room passing tables centrally clustered together, and draped her leather coat over her handbag, upon one of the polypropylene chairs. She mused the disenchantment of this room was more suited for conferences than office activity. No comfort had been spared: no oak desk or modern computer station; no high-backed executive leather chair; and, no interior design or plants to support a healthy productive environment. With an outstretched hand she made contact with the cold floor-to-ceiling pane of glass, one of many making the entire frontage of this first floor makeshift office. There were no blinds or the customary external shutters as seen upon much older European buildings, either to protect the occupants from seasonal climatic changes or from prying eyes of the car-park service users and local inhabitants.
“With nothing at the windows I have absolutely no privacy.”
Fabien watched as Miranda gazed out of the factory unit. He knew by the way she was resting her upper body against the window and emitting the odd, barely audible deep exhalation, that she needed his attention.
“I just need to attend to a few emails and then I am all yours.”
The greying March morning sky and tilt of her head allowed Miranda to watch Fabien’s reflection, in the glass, remove his jacket and hang it upon the back of his seat, and then set up his laptop. Her eyes returned to stare at nature’s and man’s co-existence. During the week the car park would have been filled, but today just three cars stood stationary. Beyond the boundaries of the small industrial business park, eucalyptus trees lined the winding road leading back up the mountain and into the Portuguese town of Vizela, where Fabien had temporary accommodation. Today there were no heavily made-up women in short skirts, advertising their wares to passing lorry drivers at the side of the rural road. Even call-girls knew that touting for business during this highly zealous weekend of the Catholic calendar would prove fruitless.
The tapping of keys commenced, breaking the comparative silence of the room. Miranda admired Fabien’s strong work ethic but this would not outweigh her rising desire. Desire that had begun much earlier this morning: she had busied herself packing her suitcase, desperately trying to ignore the palpitations between her legs as she had watched him towel-drying his olive skin after stepping from the shower. Beads of water had trickled paths down his torso that her tongue yearned to follow. However she knew then, as she did now, that she would have his total attention once his tasks were completed. The temperature of the window did little to cool her ardour; instead her nipples were beginning to stand to attention, excited at the chilliness seeping through her clothing. Oh how she willed Fabien to come up behind her and place his strong hands upon her hips, step in close to her, stoop to nuzzle his face into her neck and then allow his hands to wander.
As the passion arose in her body Miranda’s patience waned. She wanted to liberate her breasts, release her pink bullet-like nipples from the confinement of her ivory brassiere and tight blouse. She yearned to rip off her fading jeans and lacy girly boxers, the gusset of which was getting damper by the minute. A less than angelic thought crossed her mind as she sauntered to the side of the table adjacent to Fabien. He briefly looked up from the screen, smiled and returned to the keyboard. Had he remained watching her he would have seen the glint in her vivid green eyes and a half smile painted across her pale English Rose complexion that accented her almost predatory appetite, an appetite which would have to be satiated before dusk settled and her homeward-bound journey begun.
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haha I see you are liking ''master and me''
Inbox me if you wanna throw some ideas around 
