My initiation into National Nude Day started last year. I make my living by supporting computer networks in several small offices in town. Sometimes I am real busy, sometimes I am not busy, but the retainer fees are enough to pay the rent and put food on the table, and by splitting the hourly fees between fun spending now and saving for the future, I have become quite comfortable. This translates to my being very careful to keep my current clients happy, and not turning down any new work that came my way. So, when Barb Shaffer called me from "Just Women Telemarketing," I went to see her.
I did all my usual background checks before I went to the interview. I thought it odd that I didn't find anything about the company except their web site, which was plain and, frankly, worthless. Noting that this might be a source of some additional revenue, I added that to the few notes that I had, and headed to the interview.
The company offices were in a remote office park on the north side of town. The building was relatively new, but was rather drab on the outside. The building had belonged to a much larger company that had gone bankrupt, and had since been sub-divided into several offices. Noting that I might be able to get additional business, I entered the front door, which led to a hallway that extended to the other end of the building. I checked the directory and noted that the company name wasn't spelled out, just noted as JWTA, Suite 3. Walking down the corridor, the doors to Suite 3 were on the right, in an alcove almost exactly half way down the hall. The doors and the surround were thick, clear glass, and JWTA was on both the doors and the surround in a fancy script of gold edged with black.
I opened the door and was immediately greeted by Doris, their receptionist. She was extremely outgoing, with long brown hair and from what I could see behind the reception station fairly well endowed. Wanting to keep this professional, I told her my name and that I had an appointment with Barb Shaffer. Doris checked her logs and said that I was expected. She pointed to her right and said, "Straight down this hallway. Barb's office is at the end. I followed her direction and found a corner office where Barb sat behind a glass table.
Barb is about 45, but looks much younger. She doesn't spend a lot of time in the sun, so her skin hasn't turned to leather. She also works out several times a week, so she is in excellent shape. Her jet-black hair is short but stylish, and she always dresses to impress. I guess there isn't a single pair of jeans in her closet, not that I expected to ever find out. Anyway, we exchanged pleasantries, and then she asked me to go over the services I offer. I told her about the basic package, coverage hours, the retainer fee and the hourly fee after that. She took notes and just nodded her head. When I had finished my usual presentation, she asked about after hours coverage. "We are here from seven in the morning to 11 at night." I explained that I would cover the later hours without any additional retainer, but that the billing rate was fifteen percent higher after 5. If she wanted standard maintenance done when they were closed, that increased the retainer by 10 percent and a 50 percent increase in the hourly rate.
"You don't like working nights and weekends," she said. "Neither do I, at least not here." She punctuated her remark with a small laugh. After some more discussion, she said that she would let me know, I handed her a copy of the price quote and we said our goodbyes.
As I walked by the reception area and started out the door, Doris shouted after me, "Bye, Mark. Hope we will see you again." So did I.
Two days later my phone rang and Barb asked if I could stop by to see her that day. I checked my calendar, and told her that I could be there about 5:00. Fortunately, I had a light day, and ended up getting to the office about 4:45. As I walked in, Doris immediately greeted me with, "Hello, Mark. Good to see you again, but you're early. I stood there and we exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes. I'm not sure how we got on the topic, but it turns out that we grew up about 10 miles from each other, and that we were born in the same hospital on the same day. Doris' phone rang, and she answered it with, "Yes, Barb." She listened for a few minutes, and then hung up.
"Barb is going to be a while, so she asked me to entertain you. Would you like a tour and a drink?"
"Sure," I said, and as Doris stood up, I had to keep my jaw from dropping clear to the floor. Doris was quite short, no more than 5' 1" or at most 5' 2". I hadn't expected that. What looked like a healthy chest when she was sitting behind the desk was almost too much on such a small frame.
As we walked down a long row of cubes, Doris pointed to various areas and said that they were various departments with odd names. They all looked the same to me, but I didn't say anything. Doris was obviously proud of her employer. As the tour continued, Doris walked slightly in front of me, giving me several chances to look at her body. She had a trim waist, and very normal hips. Her skirt ended just above the knee, and below that was a very normal, no, a gorgeous pair of legs. They were well proportioned to her body, and had a great shape. They were just short. Likewise, her ass and waist were well proportioned to her height. It was just the boobs that seemed too large.
As we walked down the long row of cubes, many empty but the ones that were populated all had women. I wasn't sure, but I thought I saw a bra hanging on a wall in one cube, and something that looked like a vibrator in another. I wasn't about to ask about those things, so I commented on the empty cubes.
"This side of the shop mostly services east coast businesses. Most everyone has gone home," Doris explained.
"And you are really serious about the 'Just Women,'" I quipped.
"Yes, we find our clients prefer their phones to be answered by women."
"I didn't know that. Fascinating. Why?"
Doris hesitated, and then said, "Best let Barb answer that," and she showed me into their break room. Opening the large refrigerator, she asked what I wanted. "Coke, Pepsi, something like that," I replied.
"Diet okay?"
"Not really. Don't like the chemical taste."
"Me, either, but you know us single girls have to watch our figures. Oh, wait, how about a non-diet Pepsi?"
"Perfect," I replied, and we both sat down at one of the tables with a can of soda in front of us.
We chatted for a few minutes. Several times I thought I caught her staring at me, and at least once she did a quick scan of my torso when she thought I wasn't looking. I found out that she had never been married, had no kids, and a few other safe details. I asked her why she had never married, but she said that was too personal a question, so I didn't press the matter.
Soon after the soda was gone, Barb came in. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Reese," and she sat down across from me. Doris took this as a clue to excuse herself, leaving me alone in the break room with Barb.
Barb turned her chair sideways, leaned back and stretched out her legs. She was wearing a very professional skirt and blouse, but as she stretched the skirt rode up, revealing more of her nylon clad legs. I averted my gaze, as I had to be professional, but guessed to myself that they were probably panty hose, as there was no sign of the top of stockings.
"I have reviewed your quote, and like most of what I see. I need you to extend coverage to 7 days a week, hopefully for the same price, and I need you to sign a non-disclosure agreement."
I thought for a minute, then asked, "Weekends for all desktop machines or just servers?"
"I think just servers would be okay."
"And can I sub-contract the weekends? I have someone that covers for me when I am away and most weekends."
"No problem," was Barb's reply.
"Okay, I will get you a contract and start the first of the month."
I noticed Doris standing in the doorway, and Barb waived her over. Doris set down a folder and left again without a word. "This is our non-disclosure agreement. I would like you to sign it now." Frankly, I had seen no reason that this company would require an NDA, but as it was becoming more standard, I went ahead and signed it.
"I will expect your sub-contractor to sign one as well. I will get you a copy," Barb added.
"Anything special about your business that you require that?" I asked as I handed the form back.
"Yes. As you know, we sell our order processing service to many clients. We even do some technical support for a few specialized appliances. Most of our clients are companies you would know, but most specialize in feminine product -- tampons, lingerie, women's clothing and so forth. The customers of these clients are much more comfortable talking about such things to another woman.
"But, we also have several clients that offer more exotic products, vibrators, dildos, oils and lotions, etc. I hope that you aren't shocked by this."
"Nope," I replied. "As long as it isn't anything illegal, I have no concerns about what you do."
"Good. You understand that some of our clients wouldn't be too happy doing business with us if they knew about some of our other clients."
I nodded.
"One other thing, Barb added. "We have a rather unique culture here, one that you won't find many other places. It is just as important to us that we keep this secret as well. So, no matter what you see or hear when you are here, you must keep it to yourself. Understand?"
"Yes, I think so. What makes your culture unique?"
"Well, I think you will figure that out as you work here."
With that, she stood up, and I knew that our conversation was over. We headed up to the reception desk, and Doris was pulling her purse from the file cabinet as we arrived.
"I will courier the contract over to you tomorrow," I told Barb.
"No, not tomorrow. Send it Thursday."
That was an odd request, I thought, but just agreed and started out the door.
Doris came around her desk and said she would walk out with me. We said goodnight to Barb and headed for the parking lot.
"Can I be frank," Doris asked?
"Of course."
"I waited for you to finish so that I could walk out with you."
"Why," I asked.
"I guess I just wanted to continue our conversation."
"Ahh," was all that I could think of to say.
"Are you married, Mark?"
"Was for about a year. I was a little too laid-back in my career, and she was too type-A. We are still friends, though we don't see each other very often," I explained.
"Friends with benefits," Doris asked?
"Now whose questions are too personal," I replied.
"Sorry. It just sort of slipped out. None of my business really."
"That's okay, and no, not friends with benefits. She's married again, to some corporate ladder climber that will probably be CEO by the time he is 50 and have a heart attack before he can enjoy all that money he is making." "And hopefully has a real small dick," I thought to myself but decided to not say out loud.
We had arrived at Doris' car. "Would you like to go for a drink," Doris asked?
"Thanks, but no. I try to keep relationships with my clients professional."
"Good luck with that here," Doris quipped.
"Huh?"
"Never mind. Well, okay, good night then."
I just had to ask one more question. "Tell me, why didn't Barb want the contract delivered tomorrow?"
