Executive Selection

Executive Selection

It Begins

Amanda was awoken by her boss's subtle approach to mergers and acquisitions. As she surfaced from a delicious sleep, familiar sensations eased into her consciousness: his hand caressing her breast; his lips kissing her softly on the neck; and the warmth of his embrace as he nestled up behind her.

She gave a little sigh and moved her body slightly, just enough to let him know she was awake. He responded as she knew he would, his other arm looping around her until his hand enclosed her

mons

, even as his Head of Acquisitions pressed home an uncompromisingly hard proposition.

Oh God, she was going to miss this job.

She gave a moan of pleasure as he entered her, the familiarity of him barely lessening her enjoyment. He was a lovely man, generous and intelligent and wonderfully insatiable: but all good things come to an end.

For perhaps five minutes they made leisurely love, Amanda enjoying the beautiful feeling of her boss moving slowly and rhythmically inside her, until she turned her head so they could kiss. But they both knew exactly how he wanted her in the mornings; and when he presently withdrew, she needed no bidding to assume the position that was both submissive and inviting. Without a word, Jack went around behind, took her firmly by the hips... and then paused to take in what he often said was the best view in the world.

Jack loved pretty much everything about women but he especially loved the female shape when seen from above and behind. He admired her hour-glass figure and the way her long, blonde hair cascaded over the finely sculpted lines of her shoulders and back. He almost lost himself admiring her arse, which had the impossible perfection of a ripe peach, being simultaneously firm, soft and tightly rounded. But then he found new focus in the way those luscious curves framed his cock as it pushed aside the lips of her pussy and thrust into her depths, drawing forth a long, low moan of pleasure from his PA.

Jack also liked to view all this against a stunning backdrop: and although he'd shagged Amanda whilst looking at many different skylines all around the world, they both agreed that it was hard to beat the view of Tower Bridge and the Tower of London, as seen from the floor to ceiling windows of his company's penthouse suite.

Yet in a way, that was precisely the problem. Our senses are dulled by repetition and although Jack had not yet tired of Amanda, after two years of the most exciting and satisfying experiences together she was ready for a change. The selection process they were about to kick-off this very morning was necessary precisely because Amanda, the

crème de la crème

of Executive Personal Assistants, was moving on.

Meanwhile, Jack's Girl Friday was so well versed in her boss's ways that she knew exactly how to tailor his pleasure to the demands of his diary. Without needing to be told, she began grinding her arse back against him in a long, slow, corkscrew motion, whilst simultaneously working his cock with her pelvic muscles. After just a couple of minutes of this he came inside her with the great, guttural cry of release that she still loved to hear.

As she milked the final spurt of hot spunk from his juddering cock, Amanda felt a pang of regret that this might be the last time. For the rest of the weekend Jack and his business partner Philippe would be engrossed in making their selection: and then they were both flying out, the one to KL, the other to New York. This might be the last time that she performed her most intimate duties as Jack's Personal Assistant -- and she was determined that her final service to him would be the selection of the perfect replacement.

Fourteen exceptional girls; five days and nights; one winner: it was going to be amazing.

As Jack collapsed on the bed beside her with a groan of satisfaction, Amanda leaned forward and kissed him deeply. Then she looked him in the eye from a range of about six inches and said, "Thank you, Jack, for everything."

"Thank you, hot stuff. You are, and always will be, the best."

"Equal best: because the one I'm going to help you choose will blow your mind. Now, we only have twenty minutes before they start arriving, so let's get you ready to find that girl."

Friday morning: arrivals and introductions

The candidates arrived in pairs, staggered at five minute intervals from 9am so that their induction flowed smoothly. The receptionists relieved them of their luggage and the hostesses led them to the first floor lounge, where Jack and his co-director Philippe were waiting. Every aspect of their arrival was discreetly observed and recorded: how well they complied with their instructions; how they interacted with the staff and with each other; and what their dress and body language revealed.

By phasing their arrival, Jack and Philippe could give individual attention to each candidate, in a way that appeared relaxed and unhurried. It took a lot of organisation to achieve that illusion of calm.

The first arrivals set the tone. Narelle, a blonde Aussie beach-babe from Sydney, arrived in tandem with Kaia, a dark-hued Kiwi from Martinborough who was the Australian girl's counter-point in every aspect of feminine beauty. In the five minutes it took them to check in and reach the lobby, the fellow Antipodeans hit it off so well that they had already bonded by the time Jack and Philippe met them. Observing from a discreet distance, Amanda felt certain it was a pairing that her bosses would enjoy to the full.

Amanda watched her two favourite men execute a routine that somehow never felt fake or tired. The only possible explanation, she had long since concluded, was that they loved women so much it was genuine.

She saw the practiced ease with which Jack put one hand lightly on Kaia's waist whilst kissing her on each cheek; and the way he looked into her eyes from close up as he disarmed her with a compliment. A smile split the broad, open face of the New Zealander and Amanda felt a thrill of admiration for such natural, effortless beauty. Kaia was only twenty-one, the second youngest of the candidates and her wide cheekbones, freckled complexion, snub nose and doe eyes all combined to give her an air of naivety that Amanda knew both men would delight in.

Despite being dressed demurely, the young Kiwi had such magnificent breasts that her white silk blouse could barely contain them; and Amanda found herself fantasising about just how Jack and Philippe would take her for the first time. She would be spread-eagled on the bed, her wrists and ankles tied to the posts and her head hanging over the edge, so they could both enjoy those fabulous 36DD boobs. Philippe would be between her thighs, driving his cock into first her pussy and then her well-lubed but defenceless arse, while Jack would be standing at the foot of the bed, fucking that lovely, little-girl-lost face. Amanda could imagine the wide-eyed astonishment of the girl when she realised that, gently but remorselessly, his beautiful big cock was going all the way down her throat. And then, when she couldn't possibly take any more, they'd swap.

Beside her, the tall, bronzed Aussie was being finessed with a Gallic charm that Narelle clearly had difficulty taking seriously - but which was nonetheless devastatingly effective. Amanda knew exactly what Philippe was doing: he had the best nose in the business and had obviously identified the girl's perfume and told her how perfectly it complemented her. While Narelle was still laughing in disbelief, he put his hand on the small of her back and guided her towards the breakfast bar. She walked alongside him with a natural ease, falling into step without even realising it, her statuesque frame accentuated by four inch heels.

Narelle's legs were such an asset they should have been on her resumé: and Amanda felt herself getting moist as she imagined how they would presently be wrapped around Philippe's face, with the 23-year old Aussie discovering that she knew nothing -

nothing

- about cunnilingus compared to what a man old enough to be her father was going to teach her. Amanda would never forget the first time Philippe had eaten her out: it was emblazoned in her memory as one of the defining moments of her sexual education. And from the way that the Aussie girl was leaning into his seductive banter, there was little doubt about whose pussy was going to be stroked by that silver tongue first. Lucky Bitch.

"I spent a wonderful summer by the Eastern Beaches, ma Cherie, living with a Khmer girl and her brother who made their living smuggling rubies. Tell me, is Don's bar still there, or has it gone the way of all flesh? It is? Wonderful! Ah, but you must try these mangoes, we have them flown in specially from the Northern Territory, I cannot believe what they are growing there now, with the right irrigation..."

Amanda suppressed a smile. She couldn't hear Narelle's response but the Aussie girl flashed a look to Kaia that was unmistakably along the lines of, "Can you believe this shit?... No, don't pinch me, I don't want to wake up..."

Inevitably a few of the candidates overlapped their arrival slots but this had been anticipated and the receptionists handled it seamlessly. Only one was noticeably late. Standing at the top of the escalators, Amanda and Odette made mental notes against the files they had memorised.

Gloria, Spanish, 25, currently PA to the CFO of Iberian-American Shipping Lines, fluent in four languages, semi-finalist in the world Salsa championships two years ago, dress size 10, cup size 36D (natural), height 5' 8", secretly dating a Venezuelan musician in parallel to being kept as mistress by her boss. Ten minutes late.

Arriving late was not fatal: they were interested in patterns of behaviour, not minor slip-ups. If it happened again it would be a black mark; three times and the Spanish girl would be out, for all her magnificent mane of black curls and a figure whose sway was enough to make even a mostly straight girl like Amanda reconsider her preferences.

As Gloria went past with a clack of high heels and a waft of jasmine, Amanda looked over at Odette and raised an eyebrow in silent enquiry. Odette gave the slightest smile and shook her head. But Amanda knew that her colleague wasn't dismissing the Spanish girl's chances, just indicating that the Latin beauty wasn't her type.

As more of the candidates arrived, they were engaged in conversation by one or other of the senior staff. Even Zuki put in an appearance, dressed like the epitome of Japanese executive efficiency, which of course she was. After all this time, Amanda still had difficulty reconciling Zuki's porcelain doll features and immaculate grooming with the wild and dirty little slut that she became in private. She was the first girl Amanda had ever been to bed with; the first one she'd ever had a threesome with; and the one who had guided her through her first experience of satisfying two men at the same time.

Amanda had been a graduate trainee, fresh out of college and Zuki had been assigned as her mentor. She had helped Amanda through what in retrospect had been a key test on her way to the coveted role of Director's PA. On that occasion Jack had given her to two of his male protégées for a night of no-holes-barred sex, as second prize in an innovation competition. She hadn't even realised she was expected to do more than take them to dinner, until they put her across the table and announced that she was dessert. She'd looked to Zuki for help and boy had she got it: just not the kind she'd expected. God, she had been naïve back then.

Amanda knew she was going to miss Zuki almost as much as she'd miss Jack, even if half the things the diminutive Japanese had taught her were unspeakable. Who would have thought, for instance, that beneath the beautifully tailored skirt of her charcoal grey suit, she was wearing nothing but her hold-up stockings; or that Philippe had in his suit pocket a tiny wireless remote with which he could adjust the vibration of the two Ben Wa balls that were permanently inside Zuki's pussy whenever she was in the office. Amanda wondered what setting they were on: but Zuki's face betrayed no trace of disconcertion. Having co-incidentally shown every girl in the room just how high the bar was set, the Japanese girl discreetly conveyed a couple of messages to Philippe and then disappeared back up to the executive floor. After all, somebody had to hold the fort.

At ten minutes to ten, Amanda clapped her hands and invited everyone to follow her into the conference room. Odette shepherded the laggards and closed the doors behind her. Once they were all seated, Jack formally welcomed them and began his introduction. Every face in the room was fixed on this tall, powerfully built man, who spoke with a directness that made each of them feel as if he was addressing her personally.

"This is a contest but not a competition. There are no losers in this room. Each of you is already remarkably accomplished and yet each of you is going to leave here with something valuable that you don't yet possess. You may leave feeling disappointed that you didn't progress further but I can promise you this: you won't be disappointed that you took part.

"So, why is it not a competition? Because it's not about beating other people. Each of you has some quite exceptional qualities: but that isn't enough. Winning this game isn't about being better than the others: it's about discovering the perfect match for a particular set of needs and fitting perfectly into a very special culture. Either you do or you don't: it's not something you can fake or force. The square peg is as good as any other: but it won't fit into the round hole, no matter how hard you push it."

Amanda watched them take it in, seeing how they reacted. Some were nodding; others were taken aback at first but presently got it, their shoulders relaxing as their eyes widened in understanding; and one or two furrowed their brows before remembering to suppress a frown. Tessa, the American, was one of them. Her posture remained stiffly upright, analysing Jack's every word but clearly not comfortable with what she was hearing.

Amanda recognised the signs. Tessa had a buttoned-down uptightness that she tried to hide beneath an easy-going veneer. Jack's PA could have written a thesis on it. There wasn't a hair out of place and every line of Tessa's dark blue business suit was precisely cut: but it still looked like it had been designed by an accountant. Her blouse was the crispest white, with exactly the right number of buttons undone to show off her cleavage without appearing overtly slutty. Her eyebrows could have been optimised by a computer and her bright red lipstick had a precision that suggested application by an intelligent robot.

Amanda thought, "

Note to self:

put money on that one being sieved out by the psyche tests. And keep her away from Jack."

Her boss, love him though she did, had a weakness for go-getting blondes. After all, she reminded herself, it took one to know one.

"Now I'd like to hand you over to my partner, Philippe, who is going to tell you more about how the rest of the weekend will unfold."

"Thank you, Jacques,

mon ami

."

Amanda grinned and flashed a glance to Odette. They never failed to be amused at how Philippe's French accent went into overdrive whenever he spoke in public. Then she went back to admiring the way this beautiful man captivated his audience.

"As Jacques says, there are only winners here today. Each of you is going to win in a different way, a way that is intensely personal to her alone. I am looking forward very much to sharing those special moments with you; and to helping you fulfil a potential that you do not yet know you have."

His delivery was as smooth and seductive as his appearance. She saw their reaction to the languid yet athletic way he moved; to the skin that was the colour of a good latte; and to the mellifluous voice that had lulled God knows how many women into lowering their guard. They all combined to create an effect that still had the power to make her knees go a little weak and her pussy to moisten. The wave of sensuality that went through the audience was palpable: it was as if he had stroked each of them intimately.

"But if you think that means it is going to be easy then I say to you,

Non!

We are going to challenge you as you have never been challenged before. We are going to push your limits intellectually, physically, emotionally... even morally. But I reassure you, no-one is going to be forced to do anything against their will.

Mon ami

Jacques is right: the next few days are going to be the most stimulating of your lives. We are going to have the fun like you cannot imagine: and we know from your resumés that you can imagine a lot!"

There was a little ripple of nervous laughter around the room. Amanda recognised the tone: excitement and trepidation, mixed with the first hints of arousal. It was funny, really: at some subliminal level they all knew what they were here for; and they all wanted it, however much they might try to hide in self-denial.

As she surveyed the fourteen candidates, Amanda realised that outside of a fashion show there could be few places in the world where so many beautiful young women were gathered in one place. And one way or another, they were all going to spend the next few days trying their hardest to get these two fabulous men to seduce them. She smiled to herself. Talk about a no-lose situation.

Friday, session one

The first test was not so much about how far a candidate would go during the initial interview, as why. Jack called the test "Drive and Desperation" and its purpose was to explore each candidate's character and motivation: but he knew from experience that on average, one girl in four would end up having sex with her interviewer.

During the course of the morning every candidate spent an hour undergoing a psychological evaluation and ninety minutes in group discussions about ethics in business and personal life. At some point each girl was called away for an interview with one of the executive staff, whose number included Amanda and Odette. After all, if the new recruit was to fulfil her role, it was important to verify that she was either actively or potentially bisexual.

Rose, a twenty-three year old Filipina from Cebu, was Jack's second interviewee of the day and from the moment she entered the room he sensed that she would do anything to please him. He also found it miraculous that such a diminutive frame could contain so many beautiful curves - and her smile lit up her face like a firework display at dusk.

Jack didn't need to read Rose's resumé to know that she was the best hope of a large family, whose unrelenting hard work enabled them to exist just above the poverty line. Her makeup was immaculate but there was a little too much of it; and her clothes were neat and spotless but obviously inexpensive, although they must be the best she owned. A tumble of wavy black hair fell to her shoulders, which were bare but for the thin straps of her blouse and the not-quite-matching ones of her bra. Jack knew that no self-respecting Filipina would be seen dead in public without a bra but the 35C cup size on her file was such an understatement that her breasts clearly yearned for release. He patted the sofa beside him and her knee-length skirt rode half way up her thighs as she joined him.

"I'm so glad you could make it here, Rose: I hope you had a good flight?"

"Oh yes, thank you Sir, it was so wonderful to be flying business class! I couldn't believe it, I never imagined anything like that! Thank you so much, Mr Jack."