It hadn't taken long, Brad thought as his secretary, Meghan, slobbered all over the head of his hard ten inches. Her ruby red lips circled the thick, long cock about halfway down, while her fingers worked his balls.
No, Brad's good looks usually broke down the walls women put up around themselves. He was just shy of 6'3'', with icy blue eyes and chiseled features set off by his lightly curly sandy blond hair. He was also in good shape, with biceps that strained every shirt he owned. The capper was the member that Meghan continued to suck like her life depended on it.
Brad had definitely hired her for her looks – including the ones she had thrown towards his crotch during the interview process. Meghan stood about 5'4'', with short, curly brown hair and a trim figure, firm, but not big tits and a great ass. Her gorgeous blue eyes always seemed to have a mischievous dance going on in them, and her face was a mixture of girl-next-door pretty and model beautiful. It helped that she was eminently qualified to be his secretary.
She had been on the job a week, and their days were filled with glances, touches and small little comments that fuelled the sexual fire building between them. Casual Friday had been an excuse for her to wear a low cut collared pink shirt and tight blue jeans that betrayed no hint of a panty line. When the hour of three rolled around, Brad made his move.
"Meghan, would you come in here?" he said through the intercom. He felt his cock hardening to its huge limit. Thankfully he had worn chinos with a bit of room for it to move.
She strolled in with a smile, her firm tits bouncing slightly with each step. She walked to the front of his desk and bent slightly, allowing him to see down her shirt to the top of her lacy pink bra. He felt himself licking his lips.
"Um, Meghan, how's the first week been so far? I hope getting used to all of our clients hasn't been too hard for you," Brad said. As CEO of his own advertising company, he rolled with some high-powered clients, and he had hoped a new secretary wouldn't slow down the roll he was on. She hadn't.
"Nothing's too hard for me," Meghan replied pointedly. She grinned coyly and continued. "Your clients have been nothing but helpful to me, Mr. Stewart."
"Brad," he said. "Please call me Brad."
"I don't know if that's right, calling my boss by his first name," Meghan replied. "I mean, we're still not that familiar with each other." Her gaze drifted down to his firm chest, well defined in his golf shirt.
"Have a seat," Brad said. "Let's get more familiar." His eyes couldn't tear themselves away from her cleavage.
She leaned right down to eye level with him and said, "Are you sure?" His mouth watered as he could see her globes more clearly down the low cut of her shirt. Her nipples were hard. He looked into her eyes to see she was smirking, knowing she was turning him on.
She straightened up and turned around towards the door. His face took on a perplexed look until Meghan locked the door, turned around and slowly peeled her shirt over her head. The pink bra was indeed very lacy and sheer, allowing Brad to get his first glances of her small aereola and tiny nipples, hard as pebbles.
