You never expect to meet God--or the devil either for that matter, in your office at nine o'clock on a Wednesday morning. But as it turns out, that's exactly what happened to me.
It all started when my secretary Nancy went on maternity leave. I was the general counsel for the company I worked at. Human resources arranged a temp to cover for Nancy while she was out, but I couldn't believe my eyes when she showed up at my office that Wednesday morning. Nancy, my regular secretary, was a forty-something, angry little gnome of a woman who was near my diminutive height of five feet tall. Her replacement didn't have anything in common with her at all. The woman HR had sent up to replace her was young, blond, and tall. And, she was also fantastically beautiful! Upon first seeing her I was practically stunned by her physical presence.
"Hi, I'm Hillary." She said.
None of my coworkers knew it about me, but I'd known I was into girls since I was sixteen years old. I had a thing for tall voluptuous blondes. HR couldn't have known it, but they'd sent me a girl right out of my fantasies. I stood there in shock for a moment before I managed to speak.
"Janeen White." I answered, offering her my hand.
Even in my heels I had to crane my head to look up at her. She had to be nearly six feet tall.
"Nice to meet you Janeen. I guess we're going to be working together for a while?"
"Yes. Yes, here let's get you settled in." I told her.
The next ten minutes were a blur. It's embarrassing to admit, but from the first moment she walked into my outer office I had a crush on her. While I got her settled in at Nancy's desk and showed her where everything was I found being around her so exciting that it was like I couldn't catch my breath. During our brief conversation I managed to learn that she was just nineteen years old, and I found that she also appeared to be quite intelligent. All of which just made her seem that much hotter to me.
When I went into my inner office and closed the door behind me the wind went out of me in a rush. My heart was pounding and my hands were sweaty. How pathetic was I, a thirty year old successful attorney my heart all a'twitter about a teenage girl?
The rest of the day I made up reasons to talk wIth her every so often, just so I could be around her. I was pathetic, but I couldn't resist the urge I felt to just gawk at her. She was so hot. It was a struggle for me not to just stare openly at her, but luckily she didn't seem to notice.
* * * * * * * * * *
I settled into a working rhythm with Hillary that week. I decided that she was going to work out just fine. She had a little bit of attitude about her, but I could live with it. Working with her meant seeing her and being around her, which I couldn't get enough of really. After my initial period of being weak in the knees around her I got a hold of myself and threw myself back into my work.
By that Friday afternoon I'd decided I didn't blame all those fifty year old male executives who arranged to have hot secretaries. Hillary wasn't the best secretary, she wasn't even as good as bitter Nancy had been, but it was worth it to have a little eye-candy around. It *was* a little distracting though, I found myself frequently thinking about her when I should be working. Knowing she was sitting just outside my office door, it was hard to stop daydreaming about the beautiful teen.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Good Morning Ms. White." Hillary greeted me when I walked in, and it was all I could do to not stand there staring at her; God, was she beautiful.
It was Tuesday morning of the second week our working together that I realized I was in trouble. I'd deluded myself when I though I could get over my crush. I couldn't stop thinking about Hillary! Every time I was near her I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Twice I caught myself getting aroused as I sat at my desk actively daydreaming about her. It wasn't just her physical beauty either; I was mesmerized by her confidence and style. She was only nineteen, and yet I felt like *I* was the younger, less experienced woman when I was around her. Hillary just exuded some quality that made her irresistible to me. We had only been working together five days and already I found myself totally enamored of her. Of course I hid my perverse crush, and she didn't have any idea. At least that's what I thought--until that Wednesday morning.
That morning Hillary was in my office discussing my appointments with me. As we finished she turned to leave, and I could have sworn that she exaggerated the sway of her hips when she walked out of my office. My eyes didn't leave her bottom the whole time, and she when she turned to close the door behind her I saw the tiniest smirk cross her face as she looked back at me. She knew that I was watching her! I froze. My face flushed hot with shame at her apparent knowledge. I was completely transfixed, I didn't even breathe then. It was only when she closed the door that I found I could breathe again, the air rushing into my absurdly panicked lungs.
Sitting there at my desk I was so embarrassed I didn't know what to do. I'd made a fool of myself by letting this teenage girl realize I had the hots for her. I was so ashamed that I couldn't leave my office.
I couldn't get my pounding heart under control for the longest time. I just sat there, horrified at what had happened as the morning hours passed. I couldn't concentrate or get anything done; I was just too flustered.
And then, at noon, there was a soft knock at my office door and there she was. She gave me a little grin as I looked up from the contract I pretended to be reading. I felt my face flush hot again, and my heart raced at the sight of her.
"I'm going to lunch." She said, still grinning at me.
"Okay."
And then she closed the door and I felt safe again. I'd survived seeing her again, and it was a big relief. Maybe I'd been wrong about her noticing my staring, I thought to myself.
The rest of the day passed without any more incidents, mostly because I made a point of avoiding Hillary altogether, staying closed up in my office until after she left for the day.
* * * * * * * * * *
The next morning I talked with her for a while when she came in, just waiting for the shoe to drop. But she didn't say anything about the day before, and I finally started to really feel better about the whole thing.
That is, until Hillary brought me a file I'd asked for. She knocked lightly on my door as she always did, and then she was standing in front of my desk and handing me the file.
"Thank you." I told her, and then as I looked at it I realized it was the wrong folder.
"Hillary, you've pulled the wrong file. This is the master services template for Jensen. But, this is the one we did before the merger. I need the newer one." I told her.
"Oh. You didn't mention that when you asked me to find it for you." She said, and once again I ignored her attitude for the sake of being near her.
"I-I'm sorry. Please get the other one." I managed, barely believing that I felt so enthralled by this girl that I was apologizing to her for *her* mistake!
Hillary took the file and turned to leave. On her way out, the file folder slipped out of her hand and fell to the floor.
"Oh, I'm so clumsy sometimes." Hillary said, and then she reached down to pick up the folder.
I watched her as if she was in slow-motion. She didn't bend at the knees the way a woman wearing a skirt usually does. No, she bent in half at the waist in a way that was . . . supremely erotic. The angle of her body thrust her beautiful bottom out at me. As she bent farther and farther the short skirt hiked up and revealed a quick flash of her panties! I stared so hard her ass must have felt the heat of my perverted gaze.
She stayed bent over like that for a long moment, too long. Then she peered back at me around her side and smiled. She picked up the folder then slowly straightened, smoothing her skirt back into place as she did it.
Once more she'd managed to render me flustered to the point of physical fear. I truly didn't know what to do. She was teasing me, but could it really be possible for this hot young girl to be interested in me? My lust for her was so strong it scared me. But the chance, however tiny, that Hillary was somehow coming on to me--the chance that I could somehow be with her, drove me insane. I had to make a move, to find out if my dream could really come true.
"Hillary? Would you . . . would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight?" My voice sounded wavering and small–I barely managed to say it at all. The moment my words left my mouth I knew I'd made an terrible mistake.
Hillary's face scrunched up in disgust for a brief moment, and then she was laughing at me. Deep throaty laughter that made me just want to curl up and die. I saw it then in her eyes, saw the disdain she felt for me. My face and hands suddenly felt as if they were burning up, and I knew I must be red as a ripe strawberry.
"You think I'm . . . you think I'm a lesbian like you?" She asked me, dropping the file on my desk and staring down at me with a smirking, superior grin.
"A lesbian? I-I'm not a lesbian, I just thought you might like to catch dinner after work." I tried, and my lies sounded painfully transparent.
"Riiiiight. You're not a lesbian. And you haven't been checking me out every minute since I got here. Let's just see about that." She said, and then she began unbuttoning her blouse!
I should have said something then, should have somehow found the strength to order her out of my office right at that moment, but I didn't. I didn't do anything, didn't move, didn't speak, didn't even breathe. Her elegant fingers popped the buttons one after another, and the exposed strip of creamy young skin grew larger by the moment. The sight of her bra and the barely restrained swollen curves of her breasts where they pressed together mesmerized me as if I'd been hypnotized. When she slowly pulled the sides of her shirt apart I think I actually gasped out loud at the sight before me. Hillary held her shirt open for a few seconds, and that superior grin of hers never left her face.
"I think that settles that, now doesn't it?" She asked as she pulled the sides of her shirt back together and blocked my view.
I think I may have nodded then, unconsciously acknowledging the accuracy of her words.
"Alright, but why have you been teasing me if you aren't . . . like me?" I asked her, my shame turning to indignation.
"Because it amuses me. And because I might just be interested in a relationship with you anyway."
"I-I don't understand."
"Well, it's like this. I believe that some people are just meant to be dominant, and some people are just meant to be submissive. I am one of those naturally dominant people. I'm beautiful, and I know it. And I like the power that gives me over some people. Submissive people like *you*." She told me.
"Submissive? I don't know what you're talking about Hillary. I-I think you should go now." I managed to tell her.
She didn't move, in fact she didn't even seem to hear me at all.
"The only chance you ever have to get into my pants is to make me happy by doing what I say. It's really pretty simple. For example, what if I told you I'd let you see my bare tits if you just did one simple thing for me?" She asked, and she let me get a brief view of her chest again as she said it.
"What thing." I said with a gulp.
"Stand up and come over here and I'll tell you." She told me.
I'm not sure if I even wanted to get out of that chair, it felt like I was lifted by a magnetic force I couldn't resist. It was like being in a dream, I almost floated in front of her it was so surreal. I was so close to her now, just inches separated us. Her shirt fell open as she let go of it and softly rested her hands on my shoulders. She began to exert a gentle force on me then, pushing me downward.
"Kneel." She told me softly but forcefully.
