Hi everyone, here's my latest story, hope you enjoy it.
As always, it's fiction; please don't go asking your accountant (or any other person who provides professional services to you) for sex (unless you are already in a sexual relationship with them!) There are laws about that kind of thing! And, believe it or not, not all accountants are like Shell and Nicole!
And if you are an accountant, please check your rules of professional conduct before you engage in new business development strategies. There we go - don't say I didn't warn you!
*****
Hi, my name's Nicole, and I'm a trainee accountant. Not the most exciting start you've ever read to a story, I'm sure. I'd love to tell you that it's a job that's more exciting that it sounds, but I'd be lying. My mother and father are both accountants, and they persuaded me to follow them into the profession, hoping that one day I will take over their small accountancy practice. First though, they insisted that I do my training with one of the country's larger firms, to get some experience.
I won't name the firm, and the reasons will become obvious soon. But it's one of the well known ones. You've probably heard of it. I could tell you about the long hours spent looking through company accounts, balance sheets, cash flow, but that's probably not why you're reading this story. If that is why you're reading this story, if that's the kind of thing that turns you on, I'm sorry about that it's not that kind of story. Each to their own, I suppose.
I'll get to the good part in a minute, I promise, but first you probably want to hear a little bit more about me. Well, what is there to say? I'm 22, just out of university. Never super academic, but always been good with numbers, so got good grades. Can be pretty shy and quiet really, though in a room full of accountants I'm probably one of the more extravert. Not really saying much, though.
What else? Brunette, 5' 6". Never been particularly confident about my looks, but people tell me I'm attractive. Tend not to wear much make up, not to make much effort with my appearance, especially at work, though maybe on occasion if I'm having a big night out. Single, at the moment. Looking. Split up with my last boyfriend a few months ago when I caught him in bed with my best friend. She's welcome to him.
You probably want to hear sexy stuff; that's why you're here, aren't you? Well, I'm not a virgin. Lost my virginity at 18 on a one night stand. Hated myself for it in the morning. Swore never to sleep with a boy I'd only just met ever again. And I haven't. You've got to have been dating me a good few months before you get me in bed now. Not interested anymore? Typical. Men!
Anyway, I can't say that I'm particularly adventurous in bed, though ever since a friend bought me a vibrator for my eighteenth birthday I've never been without one. She bought it as a joke; it's kind of a running thing between us now that I pretend it's still somewhere in a drawer, unopened. I'm sure she doesn't believe me. I'm getting wet just writing this now, thinking about her. By "her", I mean my vibrator. I don't have a lesbian thing for my friend.
My vibrator gets plenty of use, especially now I'm single. She sits there on my bedside cabinet, tempting me as soon as I walk into the room. She and I have had some great times together. Much more trustworthy than a boy.
I guess writing this is a sexual thing for me too. I've never been all that much into porn, but I love reading erotic stories, and so after my experience a few days ago - I'm coming to it, I promise! - I thought I'd have a go at writing my own. A couple of paragraphs ago my hand slipped into my knickers, and my clit's starting to feel nice. It's so exciting, not just remembering what happened, but telling people my intimate secrets, knowing they'll never know who I am, and I'll never know who they are.
But I guess we're sharing something, aren't we? I wonder how many guys (and girls?) there are out there now touching themselves, like I'm touching myself? It's kind of weird thinking about it, thinking about you fantasising about me, but kind of a thrill, too.
***
Anyway, about a week ago Rochelle came over to speak to me. Rochelle, or Shell as people call her, is one of the few women in the department. In her late 20s, she's clearly very bright, but also much more confident and outgoing that many of the people in the department. She's got a great record of winning new clients, and encouraging current clients to give us more work too.
"I have a meeting with Brian in a couple of days," she said. "Grant would like you to come to the meeting with me, thinks it would be good experience."
I should explain who Brian and Grant are. Grant is one of the senior managers at my firm. Brian is one of our biggest clients. He is very important to the firm because of the amount of work he gives us, and he knows this very well. He is very demanding, insisting work is done within very tight deadlines, even if it means people working through the night.
Grant introduced Brian to the firm a number of years ago when Brian only had a small business. As the work he gave the firm was pretty basic it was given to Shell, who at the time was quite junior. Brian was very impressed with the speed and quality of her work, and as his business grew, he put more work our way.
"He's just about to buy a chain of fast food places," Shell continued, "and he's looking for a firm to do all of their accounts. He's thinking of instructing us. It will be another big contract for us."
"That should be good news for you," I said, smiling.
"Yes," she smiled back. "I'm sure I'll get a promotion if I can win this work."
I was pleased for her; I like Shell. She always seems to work very hard and her clients always seem to be very happy with her work. There were rumours around the office that the clients liked more than her work, that it was as much down to her looks, but I didn't believe that. It seemed unfair to suggest that she had been successful just because she was attractive.
Anyway, the day of the meeting came around and Shell came over to my desk again, I thought to give me a briefing before we went in. She looked a bit nervous, but that was only to be expected, I thought.
"I'm really sorry, Nicole," she said, seeming sincere. "But I don't think it's a good idea for you to come into today's meeting. Maybe next time."
"Why?" I asked, surprised.
"It's just... it's just that it's a really important meeting - I think it's best I do it on my own," she said, shaking her head.
I tried to argue with her: I was really looking forward to my first "important meeting", but she wouldn't have any of it.
In frustration I went to speak to Grant. He seemed very surprised by Shell's last minute change of heart, and told me that he would speak to her and try to sort it out.
About an hour later, Shell came over to me. She didn't look happy, but she said, "well, you'd better come with me then, hadn't you?"
By the way, I've changed everyone's name, obviously. But apart from that, this is exactly what happened. I'm still gently rubbing myself, if you're wondering - I can feel myself getting a bit wet now, knowing what I'm about to type with my other hand...
So we go into reception and meet Brian. I'd spoken to him on the phone before, but never met him. I was surprised how good looking he was. He was about forty years old, and I don't usually go for older guys, but he was definitely hot. I could see why Shell liked working with him. Maybe that's why she didn't want me to come - wanted to keep him to herself.
We shook hands with him, and he seemed particularly pleased to meet me.
