Tasting Candy: Over 60 Erotic Pregnancy Stories

“Like what?” I asked.

“Like what you’d look like in a skimpy skirt and high heels,” he responded immediately.

Something in me was unravelling. I’d just assumed he’d been a playboy. That he had burned through more maids than I could count, that they couldn’t handle his strange demands and behaviours that my body seemed to enjoy and my mind hated that I responded to them so eagerly.

My breathing was high in my chest, my breasts rising and falling quickly.

“But you acted like this was all, like, second nature to you!”

“It is, in a way,” he said with that wry little grin on his face that made me want to slap and kiss him all at once. “I’m just acting on impulse. My desires,” he said, continuing to stroke the curve of my ass, feeling out the sumptuous flesh.

And it made sense. It wasn’t like these little sexual nitpicks were included in the itinerary left for me, after all.

I’d just assumed he hadn’t wanted a record of all his plans for me.

I shifted in my heels, my ass growing a little rounder as I put the weight on my leg, looking at him with such mixed feelings.

But mostly, they were all quickly becoming clouded by lust. Desire.

He was the man I hated and wanted most in the world. Maybe working for him so long and realizing he wasn’t a complete monster had softened me. Whatever it was, I was throbbing between my legs, and I just wanted to run and hide.

“You never saw me?” he asked, brow raised again in that way that sent shivers down my spine to where his hand rested on my ass. “I could watch you shake your rear about that office all day. The loveliest woman in all my offices. Such fire, such determination,” he said, and his appreciation for me dripped from his words so sincere. “You had a passion for life, to get through and make something of yourself.”

His appreciation for me came as such a shock, and not just because I was unaware of his attention all that time!

I drew in my lip and knit my brows, but my mind was moving at a snail’s pace. I couldn’t believe the things he was telling me. That this wasn’t just a thing he did.

That I wasn’t latest in a line of many desperate women, eating off the floor as he fed them.

As he fed me.

How could I be the only one in all of his little capitalist empire?

Without even realizing he was doing it, he had taken up another grape and offered it to me, like his adored little pet. His intense gaze upon me as I chewed, studying every little thing about me.

“I want you,” he said at last, firm and forward. “I want to bend you over this table and claim your body, as well as your soul,” his voice taking on a gravelly edge. But his words were making me dizzy, literally dizzy!

“I— but…” I struggled to get out my words, but he had no hesitation slipping his hand in under my little maid’s skirt, touching the bare cheek of my rear.

“I don’t want to hear a no,” he said, eyes half-lidded.

I wanted to give in, quickly, completely. But part of me was still obstinate, stubbornly resistant.

“I can’t,” I said, my throat dry as I watched his reaction to my refusal.

“Why not?” he said, dark and ominous.

“I don’t want to just be your… your play thing. Not knowing how casually you toss off your employees,” I said, all those years of angst over what happened to my family bubbling out. My throat had went dry from it, and I desperately tried to swallow and wetten my throat.

I didn’t have enough money saved up, not yet, not for all I needed to do. Fear gripped me, but it was more than the loss of the job, and I knew it. How could I lie to myself about what was really scaring me?

The idea that he’d let me walk away.

He stared at me, his brows furrowing at first, but then softening as he reached out a hand and slid his long fingers along my cheek, caressing my smooth skin with his hard pads.

“I’ve offended you,” he said, as if realizing his actions had done me some harm without his intending.

“What? No,” I managed, but my knees were trembling and my voice sounded weak and distant. Where was all that fire he saw in me? That determination?