Rainy Day Erotic Noir

It was one of those rainy days, the ones where its raining just hard enough to keep everybody inside and feeling gloomy as a Cubs fan during the World series. I was sitting at my desk launching pencils into the ceiling and flinging cards at a hat on the other side of the room, wishing I had just stayed home in bed. At least there I'd be doing something. Sleeping.

Then she walked in. Of all the one-man human resources departments with current ads for personal assistants in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine. The minute she walked in I knew she was either too good to be true or too much trouble to be any good. Or maybe both.

She opened the door and stood there in the frame just long enough for me to take her all in but not nearly long enough to do it as well as I wanted to. She was a looker from the top of the floor to well above her head. She had on black high heels that put her ankles at a magnificent pose, leading up to two fabulous calf muscles. Her legs were covered by a gray skirt that came down just below her knee, but I could tell just from the knee down they would be everything they needed to be all the way up. Her skirt came tight at the waist and she wore a black silk blouse buttoned down just low enough to torment. She had curves that would make Richard Petty think twice. When I finally managed to lift my eyes up to her face I was beyond impressed. This dame was one fine doll. Here in my one man office. On a rainy day.

I leaned back in my chair and tossed one more card toward the hat. It hit both sides and bounced out. She smiled and walked toward my desk.

"Looks like you could use a personal assistant," she said with a voice so sultry it could stop traffic. Outside I heard two cars collide. I assumed it was because they heard it.

Managing to keep my usual suave style, I managed to think of at least half a dozen clever things to say before finally settling on stuttering out "are you here about the job?"

She nodded, moved over to the chair in front of my desk and slipped into it like a hand into a glove, turning her legs slightly to the side so that the skirt rode up above her knees. I tried not to look, but I could tell her knees were even better than her calves.

"I'm here for the...any job you might have," she said with a look that was either suggestive or inquisitive.

"Well," I said carefully looking at a pile of paperwork on my desk related to some past due IRS payments, " we do have several jobs for personal assistants, and in fact I may need a personal assistant myself," I said. "As you can see the work is really piling up."

Her long skinny hand came up to the side of her face as she turned her head slightly to weigh the gravity of the suggestion, then she turned to look around the barren room for some sign of activity or work.

Besides the dart board, the hat with cards laying all around it, and a half empty bottle of tequila, there was no much evidence to support the claim. Not that it mattered.

She gazed back at me and crossed one long sexy leg over another, gave me what had to be a quick once-over and said, "so what kind of work would you need me to do?"

I hadn't even hired the dame yet and already she was setting me up for a sexual harrassment suit. I started stuttering something out about having needs and she stopped me short.

"Yes, we all have needs," she said slowly. "I believe I need a drink."

"Well, it is nearly 2:30," I said. "I guess its getting close to that time." I pulled two semi clean glasses out of the second drawer, the one below the drawer that contained the rusty gun and the pack of two year old condoms. I deftly poured a pair of fingers for her and a trio for me. I sipped mine. She bolted hers. I might actually have to hire this babe, I thought.

Next thing I know, she's come around to my side of the desk, parked her soft sexy rear on the edge of my desk and crossed one leg over so that her black high heel came to rest in the air just above my thigh.

"I could take 'dic-tation'," she said, and I could hardly help but notice where her eyes had gone, finding the spot where the bulging had started. "It looks like you might need to get something...out."

She pushed her hair off her shoulder and leaned forward, and I was treated to a lovely view of her black lacy bra. It had more frills on it than a little girl's easter dress. It was one of those bras that gave just enough of a curvature hint that you felt like you had stolen a look that was intended to be seen. And there was intent.

"What other skills might you have besides...dic-tation," I said, my mouth going dry.

"Well, I'm pretty good with my hands," she said, lifting up ten fingers and the back of her hands to show me she had them all. She let them fall straight to her body, which just happened to be her breasts, and she turned her head upwards in thought. "Um, I'm also good at following instructions. And respecting authority. And doing what — whatever I'm told."

I could hear the air get stuck in my chest as I tried to figure out if she was making a pass at me. But then she stood up by my desk and started unbuttoning her blouse, and I decided that she probably was. Either that or she was just hot.

"Why don't you tell me what to do," she said softly. "And see if I do it."

My mouth felt like a cotton farm in a Texas drought, but I deftly handled the situation with my usual flair. "Just keep doing that," I said.

She pulled the silk blouse back off and I got a full view of her bosoms stretching the fabric on the black bra like a soda can that got left in the freezer. Someday she was going to have happy children. Healthy children. Maybe even overweight children.

She stood there, hands on her gorgeous hips, looking at me, looking at me looking at her, waiting for me to say something, anything, but something or anything didn't come to mind, so I sat there and looked stupid. Not that I cared. At least I had a great view. Finally she broke the silence with an "anything else I can do for the boss," type comment, and I delivered my strongest line of the day: "You can show me how well you can hang up your skirt," which sounded good at the time but in retrospect just sounds goofier than fried bananas and ice cream. But little did it matter at the time, because in a heartbeat that I missed she had flung off the skirt and backhanded it into the hat rack by the door, where it grabbed fast and hung on like a nymphomaniac at an orgy party.

Now she stood before me in a black lacy thong and a black lacy bra, my future executive assistant, and I sat there in stunned silence dividing my thoughts between how amazingly her legs looked above the knee and just how much I was going to have to pay her per hour.

"So how are your oral skills," I heard someone in the room say, before I realized it was me. Geez I'm a cheeky bastard, I thought.

"I guess I'll just have to demonstrate," said the tall, gorgeous woman who had somehow wandered into my office and stripped down to her lacy black underwear on a rainy day. She sashayed forward, moving her unbelievably hot legs in perfect form atop her black high heels that I couldn't help but notice and appreciate that she had left on. There's nothing quite like a half naked woman in high heels.

She knelt down in front of me and before I could buzz the secretary who wasn't out there to tell her to hold all my calls that weren't coming, she had pulled my pants down below my knees and engulfed my happy compadre all the way up to the part that connects him to the rest of me. My head fell back uncontrollably and I started to moan in passionate rhythm like a female tennis player at Wimbledon.

She had her hands on my thighs and her lips wrapped tight around me, and when I say she was good, I'm talking $15 per hour starting salary with benefits. She could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch. She had more power than a top of the line Hoover. She sucked like pro basketball.

I looked down at the top of her head moving wildly around my longtime best friend, and then she suddenly stopped, looked up at me and started giving me a slow tongue bath, like... well, like nothing I can even think of right now. Her eyes smiled up at me, she knew what she was doing to me and she was loving every minute of it. Poor kid had no idea. I was loving every second of it.

Now it was my turn, and I took one arm and cleared everything off the desk, which was pretty much empty anyway, and I pulled off her danty little panties and set her hot little body down right in the middle of it. I pulled my chair up to my desk and went to work, or took a lunch break, depending on how you want to look at it. My head found the comfortable warm area down between her legs and I went to work like the seven dwarfs, only without the singing and the whole being short business.

Before she was once again moaning like a female tennis player at Wimbledon, and from the level of noise coming off the desk the people on the street below must've thought the staff at human resources was having one fine afternoon. In truth, the staff at human resources was having one fabulous afternoon.

All the thinking about my staff got me thinking about my staff, and my staff was aching to have an interaction with the newly hired Vice President of Oral Communications. She seemed to sense the turgid urgency, and immediately brought an end to the desk conference in favor of a chair conference. She straddled me in the chair, ripping off my $10 shirt with the stain from taco bell, and mounted her hot crater of passion just over my throbbing mountain of ecstasy, and then, ever so slowly, she eased herself down onto me, slowly letting me slide down deep inside her, and both of our mouths eased open a little further each time I went deeper, until our mouths came wide open together, and then she reached the proverbial hilt, and our mouths came together in a passionate warm kiss, and as I reached around and grabbed the ass of my new Associate President of Operations, I suddenly felt the chair slipping backwards, and like a man falling out of a chair, I fell over backwards out of the chair and splayed out all over the floor, arms and legs and other appendages flying out in every direction.

I must've lost consciousness temporarily, but then i was up in a flash, pulling my pants up with one hand and looking around urgently trying to find my new employee, who was suddenly nowhere to be found. She had completely disappeared. Her clothes were gone. Except for the turgid boner poking out from the top of my pants, there was no sign that she had ever been there at all. Even the IRS papers were still piled up on my desk, and they were dry, which, I felt comfortable to say, was impossible.

I sat there in the stunned silence at my desk, like a man who had just been told by Rod Serling that he had missed the signpost up ahead, and slowly came to realize it had all been one happy, boner breaking dream. I looked out the window and revelled in the rhythm of the falling rain.

And then it came, the quiet knock on the door, and the shape through the door window said it all...

The cleaning lady had arrived.