Seducing Beauty Ch. 01

"That's OK," he said. "Just curious. Have a great night." Carl stepped out of the elevator and walked in the opposite direction.

"Damn," she said out loud. "Why does he do that?" she thought to herself. "How does he do that?" She couldn't help pondering his question. No one had ever asked her questions like Carl. It almost felt like no one had ever cared enough to. But she didn't know Carl. Carl certainly didn't know her.

She spent the evening alone, wrestling with the question. The first answer that came to her mind was 'a man.' If she were trapped on a deserted island, the one thing she would want would be a man. Was that allowable? Is a man a thing? Is her desire for a man unique to a deserted island, or any time, like tonight in her condo in the middle of the city? Is that really the one thing she would need? Was she dependent on men for her well-being? She felt like she was on a wrestling mat with the question. She felt like she was on the wrestling mat with herself.

"What a stupid question," she thought to herself in frustration. "When would I ever be stranded on a deserted island? If I were, why would I have to pick only one thing to have with me?" She lulled herself to sleep frustrated by the question, frustrated more by her answer, and frustrated most that she couldn't shake the one who asked it from her mind -- even in her dreams.

THURSDAY

Krasa slapped her hand down on Carl's desk the moment he got situated for the day at his desk. "A man!" she whispered in a tone as if yelling. "If I were trapped on a deserted island and could only have one thing, it would be a man. And yes, a man is a thing. But of all the men in the world, it wouldn't be you," she said venting her frustration.

"So a man," Carl answered calmly. He enjoyed seeing how amped up she was. He took in her beauty. She wore a short white floral dress that stopped at her mid-thigh in a way that displayed the length of her long fit legs. Her large firm tits strained the low-cut fabric and the strings over her shoulders attempting to hold it up. There was little left to the imagination.

"It would be a shame to have all this wasted on a deserted island without a man to share it," she said boastfully.

"What kind of man?" Carl pressed.

"Any man I want," she boasted as she stood in a seductive post. "Any damn man I want."

"So, turn on that sex-appeal and get any man you want?" Carl asked.

"Damn right," she insisted.

"Those don't sound like real men" Carl informed. "They sound more like hormonal teenagers in men's bodies. All they see are tits and ass. They can care less about who you are. Someone else shakes their tits or ass at them, those boys run off drooling like a dog after another squirrel. It's not that you get them Krasa, they're just using you."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" she whispered angrily.

"I'm just saying there's a difference between sexy and, well, cheap. A gorgeous body doesn't make someone sexy. I've seen women with gorgeous bodies act like sluts and average looking woman be knock-out sexy."

Krasa found herself speechless again. She knew any red-blooded man in the building would jump at the chance to have his way with her, especially dressed as she was. That had always made her feel sexy and powerful. Carl's words exposed her lies more than her dress exposed her voluptuous body.

Carl continued his challenge. "There is a big difference between a woman who needs a man to validate that she is sexy, and a woman who knows it within herself. Someone who is truly sexy doesn't need to prove it to others to prove it to herself. She just is."

Krasa wanted to argue, but knew deep inside she lived for the daily validation of her sexiness and worth. She knew there was a shallow side to it, but when you have what she had, you use it. No one knew how to do that better than Krasa.

"Go to hell," Krasa said more frustrated at herself than at Carl for seeing right through her.

"That's what I mean," Carl answered. "I would expect that and maybe deserve it."

Krasa took some pride in Carl's response.

"Just don't sell yourself short, Krasa." Her embarrassed anger began to grow again. No one had ever accused her of selling herself short. "I just think..."

"Who the fuck cares what you think?" Krasa said, angrily continuing her intense whisper. The color of her face and chest reddened. Her nipples hardened and pushed through the thin fabric of her floral dress. "You're full of patronizing shit. Go to hell," she said before leaving toward her desk.

"If you decide you'd like to talk more..." Carl began to offer as she stomped off angrily.

Krasa fumed. Just as she had from the beginning of the week, she felt convicted by the wisdom Carl had no business dishing out. "Who gave him the right to intrude in how I live my life?" she thought to herself. "Everything was working just fine until he came along."

Carl went back to work, seemingly unaffected. Krasa couldn't remember a less productive week of work. His words echoed in her mind. It felt like he was systematically disrobing her heart. It had always been so easy to distract men from what was going on inside by seductively displaying what was on the outside. It felt like Carl read her heart like a book. She felt helplessly naked in front of this relative stranger. As angry as it made her, she also felt strangely safe. Carl's words had been strong, but not judgmental. They were matter-of-fact observations. Its almost like he cared. "Why would he care?" she wondered. She was angry with him, but frustratingly intrigued by him.

After a few hours, her curiosity overcame her anger. She took advantage of the post-lunch activity in the office as people began the second half of their workday. She sat down unannounced in the chair across from Carl's desk. She was not used to struggling for words or the ability to express herself.

"Hi Krasa," Carl said calmly.

"What did you mean?" she asked simply.

"Look, Krasa, we are just getting to know each other."

"Don't start beating around the bush now," she interrupted. "It's too late for that. What did you mean? What do you see?"

"I see a woman whose only barrier to being one of the most beautiful women I have ever met is herself," he said plainly. He followed his words with a warm convincing smile.

She smiled awkwardly at the complement and challenge.

"The only time beauty is really in the eye of the beholder is when it's your own beauty," Carl continued. "You don't become beautiful or sexy the moment a man thinks you are beautiful or sexy. You are sexy the moment you know you are. Something changes in that moment. It's the difference between shallow arrogance and humble awareness. You just are. It's just true."

She wanted to believe what Carl was saying, but was fighting through years of engrained thinking.

"What you wear on the outside, even a revealing dress like that, doesn't make you sexy Krasa. If I can be blunt, its not the dress over your tits that make you sexy, it's the heart under them that makes the difference."

"Sounds trite and cheesy," Krasa said acting unconvinced. "I can't believe I am having this conversation with you."

"True," he confessed with a smile. "But let me ask you, how's what you've been doing working for you?"

"Ouch," she thought without saying it out loud.

"Look, here's the truth Krasa. You could walk in here tomorrow in baggy sweats with no makeup and be more sexy than you are today wearing that dress and paint, if you really believed it."

"You're full of shit," she barked.

"I think you know I'm not, you're just too insecure to believe it," he answered boldly.

"I know what sexy is," she argued.

"That's why you hide behind everything you put on. That's why you work so hard to convince people of what you don't believe yourself without it."

His words stung. "You're not suggesting I really come to work in sweats without makeup."

"What I am suggesting is that you could, and if you believed it, you would genuinely be more sexy than you are trying to be today."

"I couldn't."

"Why not?" Carl asked. "Nothing in the dress code says you can't, although its clear you don't mind pushing the envelope on dress codes." They both smiled. "Besides, the boss is out of the office tomorrow."

"I can't come to work in sweats," she said.

"Do you have any meetings with clients tomorrow?" Carl asked.

"Only phone appointments," she answered. "But I can't..."

"You can't or you won't?" Carl paused to let her ponder the question. "The only way you will ever know within yourself that you are genuinely sexy, is by letting go of the need for others to think you are. Ironically, it is in that moment, you genuinely are."

"Damn," Krasa wrestled with everything within her. "I can't."

"OK. Maybe you can't. That's really OK. Plenty of people can't. Plenty of people never know freedom from the opinions of others for their own self-worth."

"That's harsh," Krasa said.

"For some maybe," Carl answered, "but not for you Krasa. You have too much to miss. It's like you live at the base of Mt. Everest but have no idea. You only see other people coming to look at it, but you never see it for yourself." His voice was caring.

Krasa felt flattered by his words, but struggled to believe it herself. "I can't," she repeated.

"Decide for yourself," he answered. "I guarantee if you walk in here tomorrow wearing sweats with no makeup, it will be the first day of the rest of your life. You will discover things about yourself that will make you more sexy than you have ever experienced." His words tempted her greatest vulnerability. "If you decide you can't, I get that. Just walk in here tomorrow in one of your slinky outfits, and I will never bring it up again."

"Who are you?" she asked.

Carl smiled warmly. "The question is 'who are you?'" he answered. "I guess we'll both find out tomorrow morning."

FRIDAY

Krasa startled awake at 4:00 am. Adrenaline surged through her veins. Her heart pounded like a drum deep in her chest. Her large eyes opened wide open in panic as if she had just awakened from a suspenseful dream. She looked at the green numbers on her digital alarm clock. It was more than two hours before it was scheduled to wake her for the momentous day ahead. She wished it had been a dream. Her eyes felt glued open. There would be no more going back to sleep this morning.

She got up to start the coffee and the water for her shower. She felt a desperate need for both. Warm steam began to fill the bathroom. She took some deep breaths before she pulled the large t-shirt she slept in over her head and tossed it into the bedroom. As she turned toward the shower, she caught a glimpse of her naked body in the long bathroom mirror. She watched as one of her hands reached up to gently caress her breast while the other moved down across her stomach toward her ass. She admired what she saw and enjoyed what she felt.

Something was different this morning. She watched as her hands continued to tour the landscape of her body. "Damn, you're hot," she said out loud. Her first thoughts in the past had always been what others would think of her beauty. She would compare herself to other women she knew. She usually thought about the men her calendar and obligations would put her in front of that day. She always enjoyed the game of anticipating people's reactions. None of that seemed to matter this morning.

Her right hand glided across her steam-moistened creamy skin toward her neatly trimmed love box. Her knees bent slightly as fingertips moved across the button of her clit and into the opening below. Her other hand squeezed her left tit as if holding on for stability. She moaned and smiled at the pleasure beginning to tingle through her body. Her left hand slid down to spread her vaginal lips, making everything in between completely vulnerable to the determined attention of her right hand. "Oh yes," she encouraged herself.

Krasa stepped into the steam-filled shower and turned the showerhead to pulsating massage. The hot water cascaded down her stimulated body. She filled her hands with liquid soap to lather her body into deeper ecstasy. Her fingers slid easily across her smooth wet skin. She refocused her attention into the love box atop her long silky legs. "Oh, yes," she moaned in delight. While the fingers of her right hand worked her clit, she reached up with her left hand to take hold of the removable pulsating showerhead and lowered it to her love box. "Oh, yes," she moaned as the first waves of orgasm rushed to confiscate her body. She moved her fingers purposely under the throbbing beats of water. "Oh, gawd; oh, GAWD; OH GAWD," she shouted in crescendo. Dark nipples grew tall over her large, firm tits. Her breathing moved fast and deep, following the involuntary up and down movements of her knees. Krasa continued to intensify the speed and force of her massage. She leaned back against the shower wall for its support of her convulsing body. "Ahhhh," she screamed, with no care or thought to sleeping condo neighbors. Cum gushed from her body; tears poured from her cheeks. Her wet frame quaked uncontrollably from the orgasm. "Oh, yes, yes, yes!" she cried in enchanted satisfaction. "Yes!"

She returned the showerhead to its place, turned the dial and stood in quiet contentment under the hot soft spray. She was in no hurry.

Krasa wrapped herself into a large soft towel and contemplated the decision ahead of her as she drank her first cup of coffee. In many ways the decision seemed unimportant, but in others it felt like a risk. "How did I get here?" she wondered. Fridays were normally her favorite day of the workweek. Her mind turned to thinking about Carl. "How can someone who has been with the company only a few days have me challenging what I will wear today, let alone my sexual identity?"

She pulled out a couple dresses from the closet before reaching for her blue sweats from her dresser. "No, I can't," she said to herself, throwing the sweatshirt and pants on the bed. She put on her favorite little black dress. "Nice," she admired in the mirror, "they will love this." The moment the words came out of her mouth, she realized her first thought was what others would think. "Damn," she said, conceding the truth.

"That doesn't mean I have to wear sweats," she said out loud, trying to convince herself. She changed into a blouse and slacks. "This won't turn any heads," she said to herself. She realized again her interest in others' opinions continued. "Damn," she said out loud again. She had always been motivated by her ability to impress others. "Is that such a bad thing?" she pondered. She looked at the sweats lying on the bed. "Could I really pull it off?" she wondered out loud. She pulled the blouse over her head and laid it on the bed. She unsnapped her slacks, lowered the zipper and slid them down to her ankles. She caught a glimpse of herself in the large mirror next to her closet. Her ample breasts were all but falling out of her low cut bra. Her long straight legs pushed her ass high in the air. From this angle there was little evidence of her tiny blue matching thong. "Damn," she said to herself. "You are fine."

She admired the body in the mirror almost as if she were peeping at someone else through a window. She imagined Carl walking into the room to find the woman waiting for his arrival. She remained bent over, showcasing her raised pussy between her rounded cheeks. One hand instinctively moved slowly up her leg to caress the smooth skin of her ass. The other hand reached up to release her full firm breasts from any constraints. She rolled her nipple between her fingers as the hand on her ass moved under her panty toward her love box. "I can't," she whispered as her fingers moved over the pleasure zone. "I just..."

She heard Carl's familiar voice in her imagination interrupt the woman in the mirror with his characteristic encouragement. "Yes you can. I want you."

Krasa moaned. She felt her pussy moisten at the sound of his imagined voice, and the thought of his touch. She stroked her clit back and forth before moving two fingers deep inside. Her body quivered in response. "You're going to take me again," she heard the woman in the mirror say within her own imagination.

"Yes I am," she heard Carl's calm confident voice announce.

"Take her, Carl" Krasa said out loud toward the woman in the mirror shaped window. She moved her fingers more quickly and forcefully as the second orgasm began to grow within her. "Ohhhh, yes." She took the large vibrator from her nightstand drawer and licked its tip as she turned in on. She removed her already soaked thong.

She shuddered to imagine Carl's voice say, "keep your ass in the air for me." Krasa laid her head on the pillow on her bed and looked over to the mirror on the wall. The long beautiful legs in the mirror hoisted the gorgeous tight rounded ass high, making it available for anything Carl might want from her.

"Fuck her Carl," she said as she moved the vibrating dick toward her tender pussy. "Fuck her." She watched in the mirror as her own body convulsed at its arrival. Krasa screamed in delight. Cold chills covered her body. Her ass bucked in the air begging for the vibrator's continued assault.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" the woman in the mirror screamed. She buried her face in the soft pillow as the orgasm swept through her body. She moaned softly as the ecstasy subsided.

"Keep it there," she heard Carl's voice insist knowingly in her subconscious.

"Oh god," she said out loud. She forcibly held the play dick in place as she crawled up onto the bed and lay on her back. She looked up at the mirror between her widespread legs and watched as her soaked pussy submitted to the continuing vibration. Another orgasmic volcano began to rise from deep within her. "You're going to take me again," she said lost in her fantasy. "Oh, yes! Oh, yes!" She pushed the thick machine deep within her just as the tidal wave hit her body. She screamed again as her pussy consumed it, refusing to let it go.

Krasa's long body lay exhausted and spent across her bed. She smiled at the sultry woman in the mirror. "Damn, you're good." She looked beside her on the bed and saw her blue sweats lying where she had left them. "Even good enough for you," she said. She rinsed off in the shower, and put the sweats on. She brushed her hair and pulled it back into a small ponytail. She picked up her foundation to start her usual process of putting makeup on. She quietly put it back down. "Sweats and no makeup," she committed. "I can do this."

Krasa finished a second cup of coffee and light breakfast. She felt confident and sexy. It had been a good morning; it was going to be a good day. As insurance, she put the little black dress and makeup case in the back seat of the car. She never knew what might happen with Carl in the office.

Subtle gasps filled the office as Krasa exited the elevator wearing her casual sweats without makeup. No one had ever seen Krasa so natural; Krasa had always made sure of it. Carl smiled watching Krasa own the room. Krasa enjoyed the reaction. She didn't know if the gasps were because they had never seen her not decked out like a model walking off of a fashion page, or a reaction to her natural beauty. Probably both. It didn't matter. She walked tall and confidently across the room to her desk without saying a word. She offered quick wink to Carl as she passed the rookie desks at the center of the room. He smiled back approvingly.

Carl waited a couple hours into the workday before he approached Krasa. "So whose the new girl?" he asked as he approached her desk from behind.

"You have no idea," she said without turning around.

"I'm impressed," Carl complemented as he walked around to the chair in front of her desk. "May I have a seat?"