It was my first morning in this new booking. A large open-plan office, desks separated by shoulder-height screens, daylight at the edges, computers, two huge photocopiers, water coolers... and in the far corner was a cluster of four desks, one of which was to be mine for the next two weeks.
Basic audio-typing, answer the phone, take messages, all letters and reports, nothing difficult. Ordinary work.
By nine-thirty I'd got the hang of the place, knew where everything was, and I was typing busily. I'd worn my usual 'first day on a job' outfit, a very demure white shirt and grey skirt, long, with a bit of a split up the back, but nothing to show my long, tanned legs. I'd wear more revealing clothes later on, if it was acceptable. For now, I looked like a school girl, with my long wild hair wound up in a loose knot at the back of my neck, its flame-red the only colour about my outfit. Even my make-up was subtle, very ladylike.I looked around now and then, noticing the younger people. All very industrious, all rather dull looking, staring at their computer screens and working hard.
'Hello. You must be the temp.' I glanced up, a polite smile pinned onto my lips, and saw a plump, middle-aged man, quite tall, looking untidily squashed into a dark grey suit. His face was bland, the sort of pillowy plumpness that men get when they've spent all their lives in offices, doing safe boring jobs that never frighten them.
'I'm Robert, the office manager. Any problems, just let me know'. He was hearty, friendly, but I could see his eyes were expertly scanning my figure, what he could see of it.
Right, I thought. You're the one to watch, I'll bet. Dirty old man! Your big soft hands would like to be all over my firm young body, wouldn't they.
I just kept smiling politely and he went away, swaggering a bit, into his office at the far end of the floor. I typed like a demon - the work was easy - produced a respectable pile of letters by the end of the morning, and went off to the canteen to lunch, drifting along behind a gaggle of women.
I'd been a temp for long enough to know the rules of behaviour; never become too chummy with anyone, just get your head down, do your work, be pleasant but not over intimate. And at lunchtimes, stay near the women workers, but not right in with them. That way they don't think you're trying to be too friendly, nor do they think you're after the fellas. Quite a few tasty young fellas here, though, for office workers. I ate my salad and yoghurt, then read from my notebook, and added a few lines. I was working on a story, all set down in my own secret shorthand, that would have made their hair stand on end if only they'd known about it! Every office I worked in, every situation I encountered, I noted down, and wrote it into my story.
Promptly at ten to two, I returned to my desk. The rest of the office was still empty, but I wanted to be seen to be a Good Worker. Mr. Damp-Hands came through the swing doors at the far end, looked over, noticed me, and came over. I glanced once at his crotch, and had a sudden shocking urge to pull open his flies, and give him a blow job, standing right there at my desk.... I blinked and controlled myself. He had one of the letters I'd typed, in his hand.
'Er, this is very good, Miss - er - '
'Marie.' I helpfully prompted him.
'Oh, right. Marie. Yes, well, I just wanted to point out a couple of little things to you...'
He put the letter on the desk, then leant over to point out exactly what he wanted done. His big bulky chest was almost touching my shoulder, and I could smell his aftershave. Rather nice, spicy aftershave. I moved my thighs closer together as I felt myself warming up, and he paused in his talk, and one big hand just lightly brushed my shoulder before going firmly into his trouser pocket.
'So, think you can manage that okay?' he said, a little louder than necessary, and I nodded, looking up at him with my Big Innocent Eyes look. He was quite red in the face, then he straightened up and moved away - some of the lads were returning to their desks, over by the window. They looked over at me, and said nothing, but I could see their smiles. Yeh, yeh, the boss is making a play for the temp, what a surprise.
I made the amendments, ran a fresh set of copies, and took them into his office, closing the door quietly behind me. He was busy filling out forms - stationery forms, something really complicated and dull. I stood in front of his desk, which was just level with the tops of my thighs, and I could see him wanting to reach out and touch me, but he restrained himself.
'I've done the amendments. Are they correct now?' I kept my voice very submissive and little-girl high, and smiled inside at the way he was shifting in his chair. Oh, he was interested alright - it could only be a matter of time before he made a play for me.
'Right, well, if you'd leave them there, please? I'll have a look at them later.'
He was being the Big Important Man... I smiled sweetly, and smoothing my skirt down over my hips, turned and swayed gently out of there, letting him have just a hint of the shape of my firm round arse as I left his room.
That evening I left prompt at 5pm, with everyone else, but was one of the last to the lifts, and didn't fancy six flights of stairs. I waited, got in a lift with a few others, and went home, to my solitary little flat in a blandly anonymous development.
The next morning I was at work ten minutes early, worked hard all day, hardly spoke a word to anyone, and by 3pm was quite pleased to see Mr. Boss Man coming over to my corner.
'Er, Marie, isn't it. Um, I wonder if you could work a little later tonight, it's just that we have a rush job on right now, could do with some extra typing?'
I smiled demurely and agreed to stay until 6pm, but no later - 'I'll have to be off by then' was all I said. He flustered and looked worried, pleased, and excited all at once. More than one woman looked at him as he strutted back to his office, then at me, and smiled - I gave them all my Innocent look and kept typing.
