I checked my make-up and hair briefly in my vanity mirror before stepping out of my truck and adjusted my skirt and jacket as I walked toward the front door of my next appointment. It had been a long day, and my mega-watt smile was starting to dim a little.
I opened the door, and looking around, took in the very nicely furnished offices and the diligent receptionist who was taking a call, but took the time to look up and smile at me before holding up a finger, indicating she'd just be a moment. I nodded back to her, and turned to peruse the framed articles that hung on the wall of the reception area, detailing the companies triumphs and community involvement. In several pictures was a devastatingly handsome man whose eyes seemed to look out at me from the snapshots. I read the captions of several seeking his name, and was pleasantly surprised to notice that this same John was the well polished voice I'd spoken to on the phone, and was who I was here to see today. "Well, hello, John" I murmured to myself as I heard the receptionist concluding her call. I turned and stepped up to her desk, and handing her one of my cards, began to say, "I'm here to see John," but before I could finish the man from the photographs stepped into the reception area and extended his hand, "Then you are here to see me."
"Hello, yes, I believe I am," I handed him one of my cards as well, and watched as his icy blue eyes read quickly over it before dropping it into the pocket of his suit jacket.
"Please, follow me," he said as he gestured towards the back of the building. We exchanged pleasantries as we walked, but I found most of my attention was focused on him, the way the suit was cut to fit him perfectly, the way his stride exuded confidence and purpose, the way I imagined the muscles moved underneath the dark suit. I remembered his hands, when he'd shaken mine, large, strong hands that nearly covered mine completely as it wrapped around my smaller, daintier hand. I must have really gotten lost in my own thoughts because I nearly bumped into him as he stopped at a door, and motioned me inside.
I shook my head, trying to clear those thoughts out of my head, I was here on business after all, not to imagine what it would feel like to have those same hands touch more than my hands, or wonder over the play of his muscles should he just happen to remove the business attire and allow me a peek. I stepped ahead of him, and walked into a very masculine office. He motioned towards a chair opposite his desk, but I couldn't stop myself from sneaking a peek at the large cushioned leather couch in the less formal area of the office. We discussed the business at hand, and the concerns he had mentioned to me over the phone. I detailed the options that my company could provide for him, and asked if I could see the specific locations that we were discussing. We left his office, and rather than lead the way, he seemed to always be behind me. I immediately felt betrayed out of more opportunities to watch him stride confidently ahead of me, but that betrayal was soon wiped right out of my head. At the first corridor we reached, his hand fell to the base of my back and he turned me to the right. His fingers curled into my flesh, and lingered just a moment longer than was necessary, or maybe that was my imagination. I continued my stream of questions and observations as we stopped to look at several areas. Each time we would turn down a different corridor, he would again lay his hand at the base of my back and subtly guide me in the direction we were going. Once, an employee came down the corridor towards us, and even though there was ample room for three of us to walk side by side, he reached out and this time, wrapped his long fingers around my side and pulled me closer to him. Before I knew it, he had pulled me so close I could feel the hard line of his body against my back. I could smell the subtle scent of his cologne, and there was an undeniable bulge pressing into my ass. But he never said a word, just let go of me a few moments after the employee had passed, and we continued walking. It however took me a minute or two to recover enough to put a coherent thought together to continue the stream of conversation. I walked in a bit of a daze until I looked up startled to realize we were back at his office. He gestured me inside, and said, "Please, have a seat."
I walked towards the plush office chairs facing his desk again, and he curled those fingers around my waist again to correct my assumption. "No, please, have a seat here, it's far more comfortable than those stuffy chairs over there." He had turned me toward the enormous couch. I stepped towards it and sunk into the overstuffed leather. I immediately ran a hand across the buttery surface, admiring the soft texture. "Mmmm, very nice," I murmured before I thought better of it.
"Yes, thank you, it is my favorite part of the office. Can I get you something to drink? Water, perhaps?" he asked as he walked to a cleverly disguised office refrigerator in the wall near the couch. He had pulled one bottled water out, and stood waiting for my answer.
"Absolutely, thank you," even though the temperature outside was in the mid 40's and cool, I felt feverish. He handed me the bottle and I quickly opened the top and took a healthy drink. I sat it down on the table beside me, and reached for my notes again, assuming that we would continue with our meeting. I started to ask another question when he came around the couch and instead of taking one of the chairs opposite me, he sank down into the couch beside me.
"I think I've heard all I need to hear, do you need any more information from me for your proposal?"
Taken aback at what I assumed was a dismissal, I paused just a moment before starting to collect my notes and said, "No, actually, I believe I have all I need, thank you for your time, I'll get something to you within a few days," and started to rise from the couch.
He reached out and placed a firm but gentle hand on my leg, securing me to the couch and keeping me from standing up. "Oh, no, I'm not through with you yet, I just wanted to make sure we were through with business."
"Yes sir," I stumbled, unsure exactly where he was going, as he hadn't removed his hand from my thigh, and was making distracting little circles with his index finger. My skirt had ridden several inches above my knee as I had sunk back into the couch.
He chuckled at my formal answer, and raised his other hand to tuck a strand of hair that had fallen over my eyes behind my ear. "How old are you?" he asked, knowing the social moray he was committing by asking, and seemingly, not caring.
