Hope Presents: Hot, Sexy Men In Lingerie Fiction

Welcome back faithful readers, and eager newcomers, I have a bit of a treat for you all today. It comes in the form of the first part of a series of erotic stories featuring men who wear lingerie and the women who love them.

How many of you sneak off to work wearing a little lingerie, hoping it won't be noticed, or perhaps, hoping that it might be? That's what happens in this, a story of...

Corporate Lace

By Hope Alexander

Eric was running late again. The alarm clock had singularly failed to rouse him from sleep and when he finally stumbled out of his bed, he barely had time to gel his hair into submission, slip on the last ironed shirt from his closet, douse himself liberally in deodorant and slip a pair of his favorite nylon panties on.

Tight, but not too tight, he sighed as he snuggled them into place, relaxing a little as he always did when he felt the soft, smooth material caressing his nether regions. A matching bra quickly followed, then a shirt. He couldn't help but glance at himself in the mirror, admiring the way the thin nylon clung around his cheeks, and under his still open shirt, the bows and lace of the bra peeked out, the lace gently rubbing across his nipples. It was almost enough to distract him from going to work entirely, but the ticking clock made him regretfully button up his shirt, and hunt around for a pair of socks. Ordinarily he would have searched out some nice stockings, but today there was just no time.

Tugging on his work pants, and shoving a corner of toast into his mouth, he rushed out the door, stabbing his feet into his shoes on the way.

Today was a big day. Not only was the new manager arriving today, but his boss had kindly scheduled his presentation today as well. He frowned at his appearance in the rear view mirror as he waited in traffic, hoping that the 5 O'clock shadow around his jaw line would be interpreted as rakish and not slobbish. Fortunately for him, his deep blue eyes and strong features generally contrived to make him look good no matter what.

Traffic was, of course, slow, and he ground towards his office with the rest of the panicked 8.57 am rush, planning out the details of the presentation in his mind and hoping that the new manager was better than the last one.

Finally he pulled into his parking spot, grabbing his briefcase and heading up to the office. Glancing at his watch he despaired a little. 9.04. Late again. Cursing under his breath, he rushed out of the car park into the lobby. Lady Luck must have been smiling on him, the elevator was waiting at the bottom and he barreled into it, slamming the 'door close' button frenetically.

The door began to slide closed and he breathed a sigh of relief, until the toe of a pretty green stiletto crammed itself into the gap between the door and the frame and a delicate manicured hand forced the door back open.

A woman entered the elevator, fixing him with a withering look. “Chivalry is dead, is it?” She said in an accusatory tone.

“So sorry.” Eric apologized. “I really didn't see you there, I'm running late.” He explained.

She looked him up and down, seeming to find him inherently deficient. “I see. Maybe you should pay more attention.” She said, ending the conversation by turning her back on him and pressing the button for the 5th floor.

Eric spent the rest of the ride observing the shrew before him. She was tall for a woman, boasting a pleasantly curved figure and what would have been lovely dark curling hair were it not scraped back severely. If she were less aggressive and angry with him she would have been a good candidate for a date.

She got off at the 5th floor, her heels clipping efficiently over the floor. Eric slipped by her as she stopped at reception, heading for his cubicle. He could see through the fake palm fronds and blinds that tastefully adorned the conference room everyone was already assembled for the meeting. Groaning he grabbed the disk containing his presentation and headed towards his destiny.

To his immense relief everyone was still slurping coffee and bolting down the special chocolate muffins ordered for the big event when he arrived.

“Erwic.” His best office friend, Richard, a fellow with a Elmer Fudd voice and rotund belly greeted him. “Just in time. They're about to bring the new manager in. I hear she's a lady.”

Eric's stomach sank even before the door to the conference room opened again and their CEO ushered in the new manager, the woman with the pretty green shoes. He slumped down in his chair, trying to hide behind Richard and avoiding her gaze. Perhaps she wouldn't recognize him.

No such luck of course. The CEO waffled, and the new manager, a Miss Germaine Hallswell smiled brilliantly, and before Eric knew what was happening she was glancing down at the schedule.

“First order of business. Mr Dawkin's presentation.”

Eric stood up, tossing the disk for his presentation for Richard to load into the laptop, and walked to the front of the room.

“Welcome, Miss Hallswell.” He said with a smile, acknowledging her. She nodded back, the smile still on her face, but the look in her eyes less than friendly. The stakes on this presentation had just gotten a great deal higher.

He felt her eyes boring into him as he began speaking. Fortunately he knew the material inside and out and was able to confidently deliver the presentation without a hitch. Unnervingly her eyes never left him, they seemed to drift over his body slowly then return to his eyes.

His presentation over, his coworkers filed out to begin the real business of the day, checking their emails and breaking the office solitaire record. He began to follow suit, but was stopped by Germaine's hand on his arm.

“A minute of your time, Mr Dawkins.” She said.

“Sure.” Eric agreed.

She waited until the stragglers had collected themselves and left, then fixed him with a strange look.

“That was a good presentation.” She said.

“Thank you. I hope it was useful.” Eric said guardedly.

She smiled and walked around behind him, frowning in confusion, Eric followed her with his eyes until he could no more, then stifled a gasp as she took hold of the tag on his panties which was sticking out the top of his pants and tugged firmly.

“Interesting choice of attire, Mr Dawkins.” She said, a gleam of mischief in her eyes as she walked back around to face him.

He couldn't believe it. He had been wearing lingerie to the office for years, and never so much as a comment had resulted. This woman had walked in off the street and had already discovered his secret. She leaned back against the desk, smiling playfully and it was with relief that he realized this seemed not to be an automatic strike against him

“So are you a girly man then, Mr Dawkins?” She asked bluntly.

He frowned at her. “No. I am not.” He said, drawing himself up to his full height. He had at least a foot on her, and he was willing to bet that he weighed two of her. It was one thing to be lectured for forgetting to hold an elevator, but slurs on his masculinity were another matter all together.

She smirked. “A man wearing panties...” She let her voice trail off.

Eric's hands were on his hips now as the frown became a glower. “I assure you, Miss Hallswell, I am entirely male and entirely heterosexual.” He said, his voice a low growl. He moved a little closer to her, letting her feel his presence, strong and large.

It didn't bother her in the slightest. “Hm. I don't know. Perhaps I should make a note on your employee file.” She said, her tone light. Eric got the strong feeling that he was being messed with. The vixen was toying with him.

Now that she had shed her jacket, she was wearing what could be described as a corporate dress, severe and black, cut low enough to give those taller than her more than a hint of cleavage, not so low as to be mistaken for one of the naughty 'interns' upper management sometimes employed. Her eyes were a charming light caramel brown shade that matched the golden brown curls that were already working their way free of her chignon.

He placed a large hand on the table next to her, looming over her, his voice softer now.

“I would be more than happy to give you a demonstration, Miss Hallswell.”

There was a faint blush on her cheeks as she slid away from him and began picking at her dress, clearly flustered. Eric stood back up, arms folded across his chest, a broad smile on his face.

“You may go now. Mr Dawkins. I am sure you have much work to do.” She said, not looking at him.

“Oh, yes Ma'am.” Eric chuckled, picking up his disk and flashing her a smile as he turned to leave.

He may have won the battle, but the look she gave him under her eyelashes as he stepped out of the conference room was enough to guarantee that the war was not yet over, not by a longshot...

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