The piles of files are filled with words and numbers that have started to blur.
Burning the metaphorical candle was really starting to take it’s toll.
Rubbing his eyes didn’t help… if anything it made it worse.
His receptionist buzzed, he had a visitor. Immediately his maudlin mood alleviated. She was a breath of fresh air compared to all this.
He starts to rise as she enters… it’s courtesy, but she motions for him to remain. There is no need, she knows he is busy but just stopped by to bring him a quick present.
Her smile is delightfully evil as she saunters towards his desk. The demure knee-length hem of her dress accentuates the sway of her hips.
His leather chair creaks as he leans back, turning to face her as she rests her bottom next to him on the desk.
She’s wearing that perfume he loves.
A present, he enquires, tell me more.
You’ll have to find out for yourself she replies, kicking the base of the seat to get him to roll back, just enough for her to slide directly in front of him. As she does the folders slide and one hits the floor… the papers inside strewn, but they can wait.
He pulls the chair back in, nudging her heels apart with his feet so he can slide between them.
He glides his hands under the skirt. Her thighs are clad in the smoothest of nylon. She smiles knowingly down at him, bending forward to ghost her lips across his, returning upright with a slight tilt of her hips, encouraging him higher.
He feels clips … Good God she is delightful … warm flesh above the lace. Stockings are his downfall, the quirk in her smile signals her awareness of that fact.
He slides his hands up further… the coolness of silk brushes the backs of his hands.
A groan of appreciation escapes his throat.
Removing one hand he hails his secretary to order no interruptions.
They do not hear her answer.
9/11/17
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