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To men, women are fascinating creatures. Intriguing, unfathomable and, perhaps most importantly – formidable. Most of the time, they’re one step ahead of us. They know how to get what they want. Usually they can convince us it’s what we wanted all along. Guys catch on eventually. Usually after it’s too late to do anything about it. But every now and then, a guy outsmarts a girl. Or does he? In my senior year of college, after two years of putting in my time on the staff of my college newspaper, I was named editor in chief. It was a paid, part-time job, but it came with perks: An office of my own, a premium parking place on campus, and a staff of bright, bubbly, eager-to-please, young reporters. Most of them hungry for the big stories and plum assignments. Most of them women. Though I had worked my way up from reporter to assistant editor to editor in chief, I still was the same guy I was before. Same dark, brown hair with eyes to match. Same disarming smile that I had learned comes in handy on tough interviews. I wore the same faded Levi’s, the same tweed sport coat, fraying slightly at the sleeves – the only one I could afford. I drove the same nine year-old car I’d had since high school. Not much was different about me. Only now, to my surprise, I discovered I’d become a minor babe magnet – at least in the minds of some of the women on my staff. I’d discovered first-hand that power and position is an aphrodisiac. I couldn’t believe my great, good fortune to be surrounded by so many smart, clever, attractive women vying for my time and attention. And I couldn’t believe my rotten luck. By rotten luck, I mean, I was the boss. I planned on a career in journalism, so I’d have to keep things strictly professional with the women under me – no matter how much I fantasized about what it really would be like to have them under me. My colleagues, however, never got the memo. I was home late one evening, on a chilly, windy, evening in January, having put the paper to bed and getting ready to do the same to myself, when the phone rang just as I brushing my teeth. As I reached for the phone while spitting toothpaste out of my mouth, I wondered: Did a fire break out on campus? Did the printing presses break down again? “Jay!” came a frantic voice. “Yes, who is it?” I asked, struggling to talk around the last bit of toothpaste in my mouth. “It’s Christy!” hissed a voice, coming into focus as one of my assistant editors, two years younger than me. Normally I thought her voice was oh-so-sexy. In the newsroom, there were times we’d be talking, but I wouldn’t be hearing what she was saying, only how she was saying it in that breathy alto of hers. This time, her voice sounded oh-so-scared. “What’s up?” I asked, becoming concerned. “Someone’s in my house!” she said in a stage whisper. “What?!” “Someone’s in my house!” she repeated a little louder this time. I froze for a moment. “I need you!” she pleaded. almanbahis şikayet “Now!” I snapped out of my hesitation. “Hang up and call the police!” I said, becoming agitated. “No, I need you!” she begged. “Come quick. Please!” “Christy,” I urged, “Get out. Now!” “I’m afraid!” she said, dropping her voice so low, I almost couldn’t hear her. “If I open the door, he’ll hear me.” Frantically, I tried to think. “Please Jay,” she interrupted. “Come now. Please, come now!” “I’ll be right over,” I stammered. “Hide somewhere. Now!” “I will.” The phone went dead. I was worried. I threw on the nearest clothes, grabbed my wallet, my keys, and pulled on the treasured, vintage bombardier jacket I had discovered in a second-hand clothing store a few years earlier. I had to admit, I felt a little bad assed when I wore it. I jumped in my car to make the ten minute drive to the duplex she rented. It was a small apartment in an older home that had been subdivided. I knew Christy lived there alone. As I drove, zipping through yellow traffic signals, close to midnight, I wondered what could have happened. Could it be a burglar who thought the apartment was empty? I thought some more. Who breaks into a house in a neighborhood full of poor, college students? Someone who’s drunk. Or high on something. I nudged the accelerator forward. As I sped through a series of “pink” traffic signals, my mind wrestled with the situation. Christy was sharp as a tack. She’d know enough to keep out of sight. But Christy also had a mischievous sense of humor. And she wasn’t above playing a practical joke. The closer I got, the more I began to wonder, was this a prank? I parked the car on the street, one door down, crept up to the front door and pushed it open without knocking. Moving as quietly as possible, I stepped into the kitchen, set my keys on the table, pulled off my coat, and looked toward the counter, hoping I’d find a big, kitchen knife without having to open any drawers that might squeak. As I did, I spotted Christy in the far corner, sitting on the floor with her knees pulled up, her arms folded over them and her head down on her arms. She still was dressed in jeans and a sweater, but I noticed her feet were bare. Maybe getting out wasn’t an option after all. Suddenly, she looked up at me. Her shoulder-length, auburn hair fell away from her oval face, and her liquid brown eyes met mine. Eyes that a man could easily drown in. Until she smiled, that is. Because once those cute dimples emerged on either side of her pair of luscious lips, it was hard for a man to decide where to look first. At the moment, though, no one was smiling. My eyes remained locked on hers. “Where?” I hissed. “Bedroom.” I grabbed the biggest knife I could find. I wasn’t really sure what I’d do with it, but I hoped I’d look scary holding it. I crept down the hall to her bedroom, praying the floor wouldn’t squeak. As I thought about almanbahis canlı casino my feet, I nearly collided with an impossibly large hanging plant dangling from a massive hook in the ceiling in front of a window. It hung so low only kids and dogs didn’t have to step around it. The bedroom door was partially open. I peeked inside, saw nothing and heard nothing. I felt Christy touch my elbow and nearly yelped in surprise. “In here?” I mouthed. She nodded yes. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open slowly. A moment later, I stepped in. I looked around and glanced under the bed but saw nothing. I went to the closet, which had a sliding door, half open. If anyone was in this room, that was the only place left to hide. Holding the knife in one hand, I reached for the closed half of the door. I paused and slid it over as fast as I could while dropping to a crouch. The closet wasn’t very large or deep. No one was there. I turned to Christy, still with a worried look, but a questioning one as well. “Could he be in another room?” I whispered. “No,” she replied. “I was in the bathroom when I heard the noise in there. No one’s come out.” I heard a sharp noise behind me and spun around. Still nothing there. I heard it again by the window and looked outside. I saw a loose shutter. When the wind picked up, it slapped the shutter against the house. I breathed a sigh of relief, set the knife down on the dresser and pointed out the window. Christy glanced outside and turned back to me, looking a little sheepish but a lot relieved. Christy threw herself into my arms, wrapping hers tightly around my neck, pulling me close. “Thank you!” she gushed. “Thank you for coming to my rescue!” She relaxed her grip but still pressed her body against mine. I suddenly was aware my jeans were feeling a little snugger than they were just moments ago. Christy’s lips brushed my ear and her warm breath pulsed on my neck. I felt my cock begin to lengthen. I led her over to the bed, and we sat down side by side. A moment later, she put a hand on my chest and gently pushed me down on the bed until my head met the pillow. Christy lay down beside me, her head on my chest, her arm wrapped around my waist. She swung a leg over my body. Her thigh nudged my cock and it twitched. She must have felt it, but she didn’t move her leg away. I kicked off my shoes onto the floor, trying to hide the fact what I really was trying to do was casually free my manhood from the press of her thigh. It didn’t work. We talked quietly for a few minutes while she continued to cling to me. I felt her pounding heart slowly return to normal. I glanced at the clock. It was 12:45 a.m. “I need to go,” I said at last. “Please stay,” she begged, pulling me closer. I considered it for a moment. Not a good idea. We worked together, after all. “No, I need to get up early tomorrow,” I said, gently squirming out from under her and standing. almanbahis casino “I’ll just use your bathroom and head out.” I left the bedroom and went into the bathroom to take care of business. I padded back to the empty living room. I went to the kitchen to grab my car keys, remembering my shoes still were in her bedroom. The keys weren’t on the table where I left them. I looked around for my coat to check the pockets. In a moment, I realized my coat wasn’t where I remembered leaving it either. I heard a voice behind me. “Looking for something?” I turned to see Christy wearing my battered but beloved coat, her hands thrust deep in the pockets, grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat. Surprised, then annoyed, I started toward her to retrieve my coat. But she retreated toward the bedroom. “Christy, I’ve got to go,” I insisted. “You sure?” she teased. “I’m sure.” “How are you going to get home without a coat?” she asked. “More importantly, how are you going to get home without your keys?” With that she turned and strode purposefully into her bedroom with me right behind her. “Come on, Christy,” I demanded. “Hand over my keys.” “Guess where they are,” she announced. Now I was pissed off. “This isn’t funny, Christy. Give me my keys.” “Guess where they are,” she grinned playfully. “If you get it right, they’re yours.” Automatically, I glanced around the room before catching myself. I shouldn’t have done that. Her smile widened in response. “Just one thing,” she continued. “Every time you guess wrong, you have to take something off.” I stared at her in disbelief. “Your clothes,” she explained. I’d already worked that much out on my own. “Are you kidding?” I spluttered at last. “Uh-uh,” she said, her brown eyes now flashing merrily at me. I glared hard at her. But I also felt my resistance slipping just a little. She sure did look enticing with that cocky attitude of hers. “Here’s the deal,” she began, sauntering a little closer. “Guess where your keys are, and you’re in charge.” “In charge of what?” I snapped. “Of whatever happens next,” she said in a naughty tone. I connected the dots. My eyes widened. So did her smile. “You can leave if you want,” she added, stepping within arm’s reach. “Or you can stay and have anything you want.” Christy took the final step forward and slowly slipped her arms around my neck, folding her body into mine, pressing our middles together. I wasn’t exactly sure when my erection had returned, but there was no mistaking it now. For either of us. “Anything?” I asked, suddenly feeling as if January had given way to July in her room. “Anything you want from me,” she whispered, her hot breath tickling my right ear. With a tiny nudge of her pelvis, she moved backward a step and gave me her best come-hither look. Her best was plenty good. I smiled for the first time. And suddenly it hit me. “And if I run out of clothes …” I began. Once more, Christy slowly stepped forward and placed her hands on my chest, gently brushing her palms over my nipples as she raised her arms and wrapped them around my neck once more. “Then you’ll do whatever I say,” she said, flashing me another naughty smile. I felt my cock jump.

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