It's early Wednesday evening, and it has been a long day. As the afternoon meeting dragged on, I grew more uncomfortable every minute, knowing that I had a stack of phone messages and emails to address back at the office. I got my secretary to pick up much of the slack, but I had to go over the spreadsheets, too, so by the time I was finished, my eyesight was blurred and my neck stiff.
Finally finished, though, I close up my briefcase and put on my overcoat and hat. Hours of sitting at the desk are taking its toll; most of my body is stiff from lack of movement.
As I walk out of the elevator into the lobby of the skyscraper where I work, I look through the glass wall to the city streets. A heavy downpour is drenching those unlucky enough to have umbrellas and newspapers to hold over their heads. Wet floor signs litter the floor in front of the revolving glass door. A chill comes into the room with each revolution of the entrance.
I see Laura's long, straight black hair. As if she can sense I'm here, she turns, gives me a flash of a smile, and without a word walks through the door, out to the street. She wears the same uniform as all the other employees in the lobby, but it's not enough to hide her spectacular figure. She motions to the left with her hand, and within an instant my limousine pulls up directly in front of the door. I walk though the revolving door and thank Laura as she opens the limo for me. "Have a good evening, sir," she says with her sultry voice. I hear the soft thump of the door as she closes it after me.
As I lean back in the seat, I hear the soft whirr of the divider descending to reveal my driver. Today, it is Gina, the redhead. "Good evening, sir," she says. "How was your day?"
I mention it has been a long afternoon and I'm feeling a bit stressed. Gina grins and says, "I'll call ahead and let everyone know, and I'm sure we can help you relax and ease your mind." With that, the divider rolls up again, and I am left to my own thoughts for a few minutes.
We arrive at my apartment building, and the door is opened for me. I grab my briefcase and head into the building. I walk directly into the elevator, which is patiently waiting for me. When I reach the top, I walk out into the hallway and reach for the doorknob. Before I make it, the door opens into the penthouse.
I am greeted by the sight of Ashley, wearing only a tiny green g-string and high heels. She has slightly tanned, smooth skin from head to toe, but her distinguishing characteristics are of course those spectacular, full, firm breasts. "May I take your hat and briefcase, sir?" she says with a twinkle of her bright blue eyes. I hand them to her and as she turns to go put them away, I study her perfectly shaped ass separated with the thread of her g-string. Her bright wavy blonde hair falls to the middle of her back, and I watch her hips gently sway as she gracefully walks away. I feel the slightest movement in my groin.
So mesmerized by Ashley, I barely notice that Marla is easing off my overcoat. "I understand you've had a bit of a rough day, sir," she says. I reply yes and she says, "Well, we'll help you forget all about your troubles." I turn my head and glance at her. She has thick, slightly wavy amber hair and skin that is just a shade paler than Ashley's. What is amazing, though is that their bodies are nearly identical in every other facet—huge, firm breasts; narrow waists; long, lean legs. She is also wearing the required uniform, except her g-string is a rich purple.
As Marla drapes my overcoat over her arm, Ashley's identical twin sister Kelly appears, wearing red. She greets me with a "good evening, sir" and begins to loosen my tie. The two of them proceed to take off my tie, sport coat, shoes, and socks. I am already beginning to feel more relaxed as the constrictive work clothes gave way. My toes enjoy the first air they've received since nine hours prior. My cock is firm and starting to search for room in my silk briefs to expand further.
Ashley returns shortly with my robe and slippers, but sets them aside momentarily to help the others undress me. As they work, they say nothing but simple requests like "can you please lift your foot, sir?" and "let me get that for you, sir"--businesslike, but courteous. I barely have to move a muscle, and can feel the tension in my shoulders beginning to melt away. I can particularly feel the anxiety leave my body when Kelly gets on her knees to undo my belt and ease my pants over my buttocks. I can almost feel her touch, her cheek is so close to my erection. Marla and Kelly leave with armfuls of my clothes while only Ashley remains with all I have left: my underwear, t-shirt, and dress shirt.
