"It appears you don't believe me when I tell you how hot my PA is," said Candaules, Managing Director of Lydia plc. He held a tumbler of his favourite 1982 Port Ellen whisky up at eye level, savouring the golden amber colour. "Hot. Fucking hot," he corrected himself.
"So you are shagging her," smirked his Finance Director, Gyges. "I knew there was something going off between you!"
"Well Jesus," grinned Candaules. "Tell me that you wouldn't if you had the chance." He was excited, tired but excited. Today they had closed a huge deal to purchase the largest competitor of one of the companies within the group. Their plan was to merge the two companies together to form one super company. He was already dreaming of cutting costs, laying people off, and getting his hands on their order book. It was the sort of deal that he lived for and frankly, he was in the mood for boasting.
"Is she good?" enquired Gyges.
"Better than good. She might be the hottest piece of ass that I have ever fucked. I think she would do anything, if asked. You should see her in action!" His old friend smiled.
"Maybe I should," he laughed, skim reading through a memo in a purple folder.
"No, seriously," Candaules said, the smile changing to an eager, earnest expression. "You really should see her in action. I can make it happen." And now there was no bravado; he was serious.
"No, hey, come on," his friend soothed. "You two are - I don't know - some sort of item, and I'm happy for you. Whatever you have is between you." Candaules snorted.
"'An item'! We're not a fucking item. She's just a convenient pussy. She's good, she's better than good, but she's just a PA. She's just a resource."
"Well, whatever..."
"No, seriously. It'll be fun. Go back to your office, I'll Skype you in a minute. Answer the call, turn your camera off, and mute yourself." He threw back the rest of his drink. Gyges could see from the look on Candaules' face that there could be no arguing, so he did as bidden. Candaules gave him a minute, and the called him as he said he would. When he was confident that there was no outwards sign that a video call was in progress, Candaules tapped the intercom.
"Hey," he growled. "I'm having a drink to celebrate. Want one?" She knew better than to refuse what was really a command. In seconds she was at his open office door.
She was tall, all legs and brunette hair which tonight was piled atop her head in a precise arrangement. She had pale skin, the type that people mean when they describe it as porcelain, which was accentuated by large brown eyes behind dark rimmed glasses, and matte red lips. If you were to describe her as stunning you would be insulting her. She was a goddess, an aspect of the divine.
She crossed the room in what seemed like slow motion as he watched. She took two tumblers and poured a decent measure in each, walking over to the desk and handing him one.
"Congratulations, boss," she purred, contralto. Their glasses tapped together and for a moment the sound of ice chinking together was the only sound in the room. She looked into his eyes over the rim of the glass. "What's next?" He smiled, slight and devious, and so laden with innuendo and meaning that it carried an 18 certificate.
Taking her glass he led her around the desk, guiding her into the plush, Italian leather seat behind his desk. She looked down at him and, misinterpreting the signals, licking her lips as she reached up for his belt. He caught her hand gently at the wrist.
"If you don't mind, I would like to..." - he paused to sip his whisky - "... watch."
Slowly, gracefully, and seemingly without effort, she inched up her skirt until the flesh at the top of her hold-ups peaked into view. She teased down the silky black lingerie, making a point to draw out the act of sliding them down to her ankles so that he could take a long, lustful look into her cleavage. Stepping out of them, she leant back in the chair and rested one patent leather shoe with the red sole on the edge of the desk either side of him.
The camera on his laptop missed nothing.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, she was back at her own desk as he was cleaning up in the en suite bathroom. The clock showed that it was just after 10pm. She wanted to leave, but needed to finish off a couple of tasks first. Collecting three documents in a purple binder with the company's pink and white logo, she checked her hair and lipstick in a compact mirror and left her office.