I was advertising for a new legal assistant in the Ohio State University student newspaper, and I was overwhelmed with people looking for work. The applicants would line up and I would interview them one by one. Most of them I immediately rejected as someone whom I would never give thousands of dollars of my money to. But there were many, so many, who were beautiful, intelligent women who had all the skills I was looking for. It was tough. Many were more than qualified. Occasionally one would come on to me, and more than one showed up in a see through blouse, in a braless outfit or very short skirt - anything to have an advantage.
One early applicant was Jayne Davenport. Jayne separated herself by wearing, for her first interview, a loose blue dress. Her dress was low cut in front and completely backless. This dress announced, "I don't have a bra on". With her outfit, she wore no hose, and very high matching blue heels. The dress strapped around her shoulders and was cut, in back, all the way down to the top of her butt. Obviously, I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. Jayne had a cute face and mid length dirty blond hair. She was 5'6, thin, nice legs with firm medium size round boobs. I watched Jayne's jiggled walk as she walked into my office, and it was clear that she knew how to use her body. Her blue dress was cut short at mid thigh level. Myself, I knew that by placing a wooden chair in which the gals would interview far across from my desk, I could get a good look at each gal's legs. I sat and studied Jayne's fine bare legs, which she nervously crossed and uncrossed. Her short dress rode up in the seat - all the way up - to show her lacy transparent blue panties.
"Do you mind if I smoke?" Jayne asked.
"No," I said, "go right ahead."
At that point Jayne leaned forward to fetch herself a cigarette, and she reached into her handbag on the floor. As she leaned, the front of her backless dress drooped open in front. She fumbled for a minute or so, searching for her cigs, and I could plainly see both her tan breasts and all the way to her navel. Then her dress' shoulder straps slipped down her bare arms. As Jayne leaned forward, the dress fell a little more, and she was nearly topless in my office. Hell, but for those transparent panties, she was nearly nude. But Jayne was well aware that she was flashing herself, I knew it and I enjoyed it. Her moves were rehearsed and intentional, I believe, and she was enjoying it too. I felt complimented by her efforts.
"What does this job entail?" Jayne asked.
"Just show up, and look your best."
I didn't hire Jayne to work for me, but I did recommend that she be hired as the front desk receptionist. She was the type we wanted to greet the clients. Jayne lasted a few months and then she moved to Cincinnati with her boyfriend. During that time, she wore that backless dress once every week, and I was regularly treated to her bending over and flashing her fine boobs.
A hundred interviews later, and I was still not satisfied. Then Lara applied.
I interviewed Lara after having a short telephone conference with her. She was a little older, mid twenties, and had already graduated from OSU. Lara sat in my office, with her short hair, and her dangling earrings. It was our first meeting. Myself, I was slumped in my desk chair, living through dysfunctional days. Lara brought along an impeccable resume, which included a photo. She was an attractive person, no question about that, but she had a different air about her. Lara was well built, lean with broad shoulders, "athletic and toned" as we now say. But her "build" was just that. People describe a man as well built, and that's the way she was. As she sat and talked to me, she was open about her background. I leaned back and listened. As I listened, I learned that this lost soul had more to tell me than I could tell her, at least that afternoon.
From Minnesota, she said. I looked down at her resume. She had a fantastic academic background, including that she had graduated from OSU "Summa Cum Laude, With Distinction." That means that she had somewhere near a 3.9 cumulative average - better than I had, better than about everybody at the 55,000 student university.
Lara was about 5'7. Dressed in black slacks, she added a thin black blouse that was somewhat diaphanous; I could see some type of support underneath. She had brown hair, cut above her ears, and she had that "don't mess with me," command of a herself. She was 100% Scandinavian and spoke fluent Swedish. Lara was my first encounter with the "Swedish Warm Blood" breed - good for work and good for pleasure. Moreover, she did not appear "butch"; she was quite feminine. In Minnesota, she had distinguished herself in track as the state high school high hurdles champion. In the arts, she was runner up in the state finals as a flutist. In academics, she was "Salutatorian" of her high school class.
"Why did you come to Columbus?" I asked, after I learned that she had spent her first two years at the University of Minnesota.
"I followed my heart. My high school boyfriend Bill attends OSU. I wanted to be with him, and I transferred here."
"Have you been dating him a long time?"
"If you call it dating. We live together at the apartment, but he works for a company in Dayton. He's not around that much," she said.
A drawback was that Lara had no real work experience. Forgetting that, I hired Lara on the spot. She started the next day. I'm not so sure that she wanted to work for me, or that she even liked me, but she did confide in me that it was work for me or work for McDonalds. Lara's degree was in Political Science. Not much she could do with a Political Science degree, other than continue on to grad school. And that was her plan, to attend Indiana University's School of Government in the fall. She planned on moving to Bloomington in October. Our time together would be short.
Once she started working, Lara immediately made an impression on me. Quickly I became attracted to her, and appreciative of her abilities. It was only a matter of days before I acknowledged, to myself, that I was falling for her.
One day, after she had worked for me for two weeks, I was in the dumps and it was obvious. Lara and I were discussing my situation in my office, my last assistant and my last affair. We were open with one another in our conversations. I told Lara that I missed Bridget, (my last assistant, a real fuck bunny) and Lara asked me what she looked like. "I have photos of her," I said. "Would you like to see them?"
"Yeah."
There were a couple of sets of prints of Bridget in an office filing cabinet. I grabbed the first set, and handed the prints to Lara. I knew, but Lara didn't know, that the prints were erotic nudes. They were pictures of the 21year old Bridget, first in a thin black lace teddy and black heels, then pictures of her nude in just the heels with her legs spread. Bridget looked as good as she could look in those prints. Her 5'7, 120 pound figure, and her young Sofia Loren like face, photographed well. I stood over Lara and I watched as she flipped through the pics. The last few included some blowjob shots and a doggy style fuck shot that didn't show our faces. Lara flipped right threw them, and then she flipped threw them again. She stared an extra moment at the pics of my cock in Bridget's mouth, but went back to the others that focused on Bridget's body.
"I like these two the best," she said, and she handed me her two favorites. In one photo, Bridget was nude, laying across her bed, with her right arm propping her head up. The other pic also showed Bridget nude, full frontal, standing in heels with her hands on her hips and with her legs open.
"She certainly is attractive," Lara said. "I like her body. You must have enjoyed being inside of her."
"Well..." I mumbled. "I'm glad you think so."
"I'd go out with her," Lara said.
"And what would you do with her?" I replied.
"First thing, I'd give her a serious tongue lashing. Then I'd see what she learned from the lesson."
I laughed at what I took as a joke. At that stage I was still confused about Lara. She was hinting, often hinting, that she liked women, but I knew also that she had a regular boyfriend. Then she told me, straight out and loud, that she was bisexual.
Lara said that she'd been attracted to women since she was a child, but only admitted it to herself after she had read "Ruby Fruit Jungle" as a teen. She promised to give me a copy. But I kept my hopes that she was attracted to me, because I was attracted to her. I was not about to be deterred by her being bi.
Later that same day, Lara said that she needed a ride home. She had no car, and she hated the bus. Lara had told me that she lived in an apartment, but she described it more as a coed rooming house, on Summit Street near 17th Avenue. I grabbed the chance and I offered to drive her there.
"Are you in a hurry to get home?' I asked as we rode up High Street in my Chevy S-10 pick up. "There's a wine shop this way and I'd like to stop."
"Fine with me," she responded, "I'll let you buy me a glass of wine."
I drove to the Ala Carte restaurant, which was on High Street north of Lane Avenue. Ala Carte had a great wine shop, attached to the back of a nice restaurant. A unique thing about the place was that you could pick out a fine bottle of wine from the wine shop, purchase it for the state regulated lowest minimum price, and they would serve it to you at table in the restaurant - for a $1 additional charge. This was the best place to drink wine in Ohio, and maybe one of the best anywhere. The proprietor, George, had accumulated a huge wine cellar and the possibilities were endless for a wine enthusiast. I explained these things to Lara, explained how I liked the place and liked to drink wine there. She seemed interested in my ramblings.
"Did you and Bridget frequent this place?"
"We did, but it didn't start with her. I've been coming here for years, since it first opened. It was my wife's favorite restaurant."
I parked my truck in Ala Carte's back lot, off of the alley behind their High Street front. Lara and I climbed the back stairs and strolled through the back hallway. We went first into the wine shop, and as we entered, Lara was right next to me. She was on my arm, at my side. At that moment, our relationship transposed. We went from a work place arrangement to a couple on a date. Earlier, I had acknowledged my attraction for her. Now, I was feeling her attraction for me. The magnetism was there, as was the excitement, and it felt good to be together with her. Together, we browsed around the wine shop. I chose two bottles: an Australian Chardonnay, for our starter, and a French red Bordeaux, should we be inclined to drink a second bottle. If not, I would take it home.
The hostess seated us in the restaurant, which was not crowded. Ala Carte was a dimly lit place, with private little tables, it was a place where lovers could not be seen. We sat off in a corner and sipped the Chardonnay. Our hostess came by and lit a candle on the table, a candle which added its lilac perfume to the restaurant air. Lara had on a green blazer that buttoned high, and darker green slacks. Underneath the blazer she wore a green lace top. When buttoned, the outfit was quite professional. As we drank the wine, our conversation drifted into bold flirtation. The flirtation became more sensual. I knew that I wanted to have sex with her, but I was at a loss on how to approach this complex person. So I didn't push it.
Lara gradually undid the buttons on the blazer, one, and then a little later, another. Then she let the jacket fall open. I watched comfortably as she showed off her lace top. Lara had no bra on, and the lace top was a tempting see through, enough so that I could vaguely see her small breasts and pink nipples. I was surprised at her boldness. Maybe the wine was having an effect on her, I thought, and then I thought again. We hadn't had that much of it. I studied the woman with me. I stared deep into her blue eyes, I looked at her breasts and at her pink nipples, and I wondered what was in store for us.
