Office Window Tease: Boss's Wife Spreads for the Crew

The afternoon sun baked the steel skeleton of the half-renovated top floor. Marcus wiped sweat from his brow with a gloved forearm, the fabric of his hi-vis vest sticking to his muscled back. His crew of six moved around him like a well-oiled machine—hammers ringing, saws whining—while directly across the narrow gap between buildings, the floor-to-ceiling windows of the CEO’s corner office glowed like a private theatre.

And the show had been getting better every single day.

Lena started appearing two weeks ago. First it was innocent enough: Richard’s stunning 24-year-old wife bringing him lunch in a little silk dress that fluttered around her long legs. But the lunches got shorter, the dresses got smaller, and the poses got filthier. Today she wore a white linen minidress so short it barely covered the lower curve of her ass. She had kicked off her heels the moment she entered the empty executive suite, and now she was stretching like a cat in heat directly in front of the glass.

Marcus’s crew had gone suspiciously quiet.

Lena arched her back, pushing her full tits forward until the thin fabric strained. She locked eyes with Marcus across the thirty-foot gap and smiled like sin itself. Then she turned sideways, bent slowly at the waist, and pretended to adjust a strap on her sandal. The dress rode up. No panties. Just the smooth, waxed lips of her pussy flashing in broad daylight.

“Jesus Christ,” one of the labourers muttered.

Marcus didn’t answer. His cock had been half-hard for days. Today it was fully rigid, trapped uncomfortably against his work pants. Lena straightened, turned to face them again, and ran both hands slowly up her body. When her palms cupped her breasts she squeezed, thumbs circling her obviously stiff nipples. Her gaze never left the crew.

She was putting on a show for all of them, but her eyes kept coming back to Marcus.