Personal Assistant
Copyright© 2026 by Awkward Penn
Chapter 3
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3 - Blake's new personal assistant is not her type, but he's exceptionally competent and makes no secret of the fact that he'd do anything to please her.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Workplace DomSub FemaleDom Slow
Strolling to her desk, Blake was surprised to find a fluffy, absorbent towel folded in half across her office chair. Chuckling softly, she folded it up and placed it on Riley’s wire rack. Unlike everything else she placed there, it didn’t disappear when she glanced away.
Leaning back in her chair, she pulled up the camera that allowed her to watch Riley. The image was in color, and she had to admit the angle did give her a nice view of his tight little butt. When he shifted in his chair, she noticed that the undersoles of his ankle boots were red, like her own heels.
That he was somehow stalking her was a given. He’d probably even tell her how, if she asked. But like the magic trick with the wire rack, she wasn’t positive she wanted to know. A professional magician with a known mean streak had once said that, when someone pressed him to know how a trick was done, he would tell them in excruciating detail. Except for other magicians, the person who asked was never happier when they knew the answer. It was usually more fun to guess and not know for sure.
Given how tech-savvy he was, it wouldn’t surprise her to find out Riley had a camera installed across the street from her condo. If he lived close enough to the office, he could check on her, get dressed, and buy coffee on the days she walked out of the house without one. Did he also have cameras in her office? Inside her condo? Under her desk?
Feeling wicked, she spread her knees, letting the fabric of her pencil skirt ride up to her garters. Riley’s computer monitor had a small piece of plastic mounted on the bezel, hiding the screen from view from the side, instead of a modern polarized privacy filter over the screen itself. From her camera behind him, she could see that he was creating some kind of spreadsheet, going back and forth to the digital catalog the salespeople used. But even from her camera, one corner of his screen was blocked from view. Did he have a video feed posted there? If he did, he didn’t react when she spread her knees, or when she put them back together and slid her panties off.
If he didn’t have a camera under the desk, perhaps he had one elsewhere in the room, one across the room that he could plausibly say was there for innocent reasons. If he did, her previous experience with him showed that he was interested enough in her privacy that even an innocently placed camera wouldn’t be shared. Still, if he were going to play innocent, she wouldn’t turn around and reward his timidity by giving him an X-rated show.
Watching the camera for any reaction, she left her jacket on over her bustier, placed the towel on her chair, and pulled her yellow skirt up to her hips without standing up. What she was doing would be obvious to anyone watching, but no skin was actually visible above the desktop.