The garage around me was dark, but my phone screen glared. I was staring at the photo that my new personal assistant, Molly, had just posted online under her username 'your_perfect_girl.' It was a selfie that showed her lying on her back in bed, cropped square from nose to bellybutton to reveal her gently parted lips and full breasts, which were squeezed together by her outstretched arms and clad in... Well, what would you call it? A bra? A bustier? It looked decadent on her, the black lace setting off the pink flush of her skin, the white billow of the duvet, the golden curl of her hair. The caption on the photo read: "Bought myself a present for passing my probation at work!! Do you think my boss will like it?"
"God, yes," I breathed to myself, alone in the front seat of my car. I liked it a lot. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the photo, even though it was already... "Shit."
It was already 10 minutes to 10. I was going to be late for the weekly Monday morning strategy meeting. How long had I been sitting there? With one last longing glance at the photo on the screen, I flicked my phone off and swung the car door open. A few moments later, I was watching the little light above the elevator doors count down the floors towards 'G1' and smoothing the leg of my suit pants with the palm of my hand anxiously. My cock was still uncomfortably hard. Was it visible? What were people going to say when I walked in late, and looking like
that
?
Molly was not just one of the prettiest women I had ever known, she was also far and away the kinkiest. Her dirty posts had shown me as much, and I had learned a lot more at the end of the day on Friday, when I had confronted her with what I had found on the internet. While I was stroking her clit on my office couch, she had basically begged me to treat her the way 'your_perfect_girl' treated herself in her photos: to edge her and deny her, to tie her up and spank her, to fuck all three of the perfect holes she offered up to whoever stumbled across her profile. The lingerie selfie that had me transfixed moments before in my car was probably the chastest thing she had ever posted...
And as I edged her in my office that night, her arousal-addled brain had suggested another fantasy, that she would have to do whatever filthy thing I wanted to keep me from showing everyone these pictures, not to mention to keep her job. We had been interrupted by the janitor before we had discussed exactly what our relationship was going to look like going forward, so I had spent the weekend alternately fretting and frothing at the mouth with desire. This was the craziest thing I had ever done, a total fantasy, and yet terribly real. Was I going to lose
my
job? Would anyone believe that she wanted me to fuck her? To blackmail her? But how could I resist? And the caption this morning... What more encouragement could I need?
The elevator door pinged open and I heard a tittering, whispered conversation stop abruptly as I stepped in. I recognized the two young women as junior analysts working under my colleague Sandra, the only female executive at our firm. I liked Sandra fine, but she had a habit of hiring decades-younger members of her college sorority that I found... Well, maybe it was that they all had the same slim, blonde, high-ponytailed look... Or maybe just Sandra's insistence that these girls half her age were her 'sisters'...
"Good morning, Mr. Andres," I heard one of them say behind me as I turned to face the closing doors.
"Hmmm?" I responded distractedly, and their
sotto voce
conversation recommenced. I was still thinking about Molly.
'Do you think my boss will like it?' God, what a question...
I was blearily aware of the little numbered buttons lighting up in turn as we made our way towards the eleventh floor, where the boardroom was located. One, two, three, four, five... My office was on the fifth floor. Did I need anything from my office?
Oh, shit!
A sudden, panicked thought as my fingers rose to the 'Open Door' button.
The weekly reports!
I had been so distracted...
The doors opened before I could hit the button. Head down, I bundled myself out and directly into... That perfume...
"Sir!" Molly squeaked as we collided. Her body was soft against mine for a moment before she stumbled back, clutching a bundle of file folders tight to her chest. "I was just coming to find you! You're going to be late!"
"I know, Molly," I said, pulling her inside the elevator with a hand on each shoulder. The conversation behind us had stopped suddenly once again, but something roared inside me, chasing away my anxiety in an instant. Molly looked fantastic in a crisp, white blouse and slate-grey pencil skirt. She was wearing a slightly taller heel than usual, just tall enough that we stood eye-to-eye, and she had her hair pinned back, opening up her face, except for two escaped ringlets that she pushed behind her ear as the elevator rumbled back to life. "Are those the reports?"
"Yes, sir," Molly responded. She was blushing hard as she handed over one folder, then another. "And Carl's... He asked me to print his, too..."
"You need to stop letting men take advantage of you like that, Molly." I heard one of the girls behind me stifle a laugh. Molly looked down at her shoes.
"Why were you so late, sir?" She asked in a whisper.
"Something came up," I answered at a normal volume. "You had a busy morning, though?"
"Yes, sir." Her blush was deepening. Fuck. How was I supposed to resist that? "Two calls for you from Hong Kong..."
"And it'll be the middle of the night there, when I'm out of the meeting..." I mused, trying not to sound thrilled. So we'll have some free time, then... "Anything else, Molly?" No response except her furious blush. "Are you
sure
, Molly?"
"Sir?"
"I'm not sure we should talk about it here, but..." I looked around at the girls behind me, whose faces were glowing with some sort of curious shared emotion as they steadfastly refused to meet my gaze. They couldn't know about Molly and I, surely? Was I running too much of a risk? But what could they say? "What about that special project we started on Friday?"
"Sir?" Molly squeaked again. Her voice was still tinged with anxiety, but I could here a little bit of arousal softening it now, too.
"Did you finish over the weekend?"
Molly hesitated for a moment. I had just gotten her to the edge of orgasm when the janitor had interrupted us. I looked up from her face to check our floor. We were almost there. "No, sir."
"Good," I nodded. "I don't want you finishing without me."
The doors pinged open as Molly responded. "Of course, sir."
A beat of silence as I stepped out of the elevator. Her picture from this morning was still dancing behind my eyes. "Oh, and Molly," I said, turning back. Molly looked up from her shoes. The two blonde girls were staring gleefully at the back of her head. "I saw your question..." The doors were closing. I couldn't suppress my grin any longer.
"Sir?"
"The answer is 'yes.' Yes, I like it very much."
The last thing I saw as the doors slid closed were Molly's eyes, first wide and confused, then suddenly wider with shocked comprehension.
***
She had the same eager, anxious look in her eyes when I saw her again a few hours later, after the meeting. It was lunchtime, so the floor was quiet enough to hear her chair creak back as she stood up behind her desk, which was placed just outside my office door.
"Any calls, Molly?" I asked as I strode up.
She shook her head and hurried around her desk as I continued past. "No, sir."
"Good." She followed a step behind me as I crossed into my office. "Let's see if we can catch Hong Kong," I announced, in a slightly louder voice than strictly necessary.
Molly's voice sounded confused, but she didn't question me. "Do you need lunch, sir?"
"No, just a coffee. And lock the door, will you?" She obeyed wordlessly, and she was already finishing up at the coffee bar by the time I had thrown off my suit jacket and tie, rolled up my sleeves, and settled half-sitting on my desk's front edge. I was too full of energy to sit down properly.
With the door closed, all I could hear was the click of her heels and the coffee cup rattling in its saucer with each step. She was clearly not yet fully comfortable in these taller shoes. Not wanting to seem too eager, I pulled out my phone. Her photo was still open when I flicked past the lock screen.
"You aren't actually going to try and call Hong Kong, Sir?" Molly asked trepidatiously as she placed the saucer down beside me on the desk.
I didn't look up from my phone. "No, I'm not Molly. I just wanted to make sure we weren't disturbed."
"Oh, okay." She rocked on her heels awkwardly in front of me as I took a sip of coffee, still focused on the screen. I could tell she was not sure exactly what was coming next and I wanted to wait for her to break the silence. "How did the meeting go, Sir?"
I looked up. Molly's brow was furrowed slightly. The same two ringlets had come loose again, only now she kept her hands clasped behind her back nervously instead of pushing them behind her ear. "Not well, Molly," I answered, more or less truthfully. The meeting had been a blur. "As you can imagine, I was very distracted."
"Oh, Sir," she cooed bashfully.
"And I think I've already made clear why I was so distracted." Molly nodded. "But would you like me to show you?" She nodded again, her eyes wide and a subtle, coy smile creeping across her lips. With a slow, casual circle of my wrist, I flashed her the image.
"I'm sorry, Sir," Molly said, barely looking at the screen. Her spreading smile undercut her words.
"I'm no good with lingerie, Molly. What do you call this?"
"Oh?" This was not the question she had expected. "A bra... A longline bra, Sir."
"A longline bra..." I nodded. "When did you take this picture, Molly?"
"Last night, Sir."
"But you waited until this morning to post it?" The tinge of frustration in my voice was only half in jest.
"Yes."
"And then you lied and told me you hadn't done anything this morning?"
