Victoria cursed under her breath as the Xerox machine whirred to a brutal halt and the obnoxious Error: Paper Jam light blinked. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, looking at the giant pile of copy orders. Being a secretary wasn't as much fun as she thought it'd be. Even if the office was full of good looking men in suits.
When she opened the front door to the copier, Victoria could see clearly the jam was hopeless. She tugged at a few of the crumpled papers anyway and only tore out tiny pieces. She was no good at this stuff. By the time she gave up, toner powder stained her fingers. Wiping them off on her gray stencil skirt, she clucked her tongue in disappointment as black smudges smeared across her rounded hips.
Picking up the pile of papers, she shuffled out of the cramped copy room and headed for the elevators to go up a floor to use their more reliable copier. Hopefully nobody would notice it was Victoria who jammed the copier.
She let her eyes wander into her boss's office and slowed her pace as she walked by. Jameson Williams was such a beautiful man, in all ways. He'd built his business development company up from the bottom of a collapsing economy, filling the niche to fix what was failing, and he was now one of the most renowned business men around. He had a tongue like velvet and a personality as charming as a young colt.
He was reclined in his office chair, chatting away in to his phone, as always. The flash of silver snapped her attention from his ruggedly handsome features, lighting upon the wedding band that sat on his left hand. Victoria had never heard Jameson mention his wife, but the band was enough to make him off limits, which made him even more gorgeous. Why was she always attracted to unavailable men? That had been the story of her life.
She felt the familiar dampness between her legs when their eyes met and froze in a semi trance. She noted the bead of sweat appearing on his upper lip, entertaining the light dusting of an unshaven mustache and beard across a hardened jaw, his fingers whisk through his salt and pepper hair. At his prime, it would have been raven black. Now it held an aire of aged experience. A simple curl of his fingers ushering Victoria in to his office had her on her toes in an instant and she slipped through the door, clicking it shut behind her.
"Uh huh... sure Mr. Mason. I'll send one of my representatives tomorrow. Bye now." A smile curled sultry lips as Jameson slid the receiver back into its cradle. His ebony eyes swept over his secretary. She was one of the most capable people HR had sent him, but she dressed like a school girl. He liked it, but wished she'd sex it up a bit. She had the body for it and he didn't understand why she hid her curves in unflattering office wear and pant suits. There was nothing at all attractive in a pant suit. Sure, she was a woman in the business world, but she'd proven she could hold her own. He grinned as he remembered the pictures he had in a manila envelope in his desk.
"Victoria, care for some coffee?" he asked as he stood and crossed his office to the little coffee table and filled a large mug to the brim from the pot Victoria kept diligently full. When she didn't immediately answer he glanced at her with his award winning smile. Victoria shook her head and dropped her gaze, hugging the pile of documents she carried to her chest. She'd been staring at his backside. He smirked. That was alright.
"Do you know why I called you in here?" Jameson asked as he leaned back against the edge of his desk. Again Victoria shook her head. Golden curls fell from the tight bun she kept at the back of her head. Another smirk appeared on Jameson's lips. He liked long-haired women. "I have something of yours." He reached across the desk and opened the top drawer, removing the envelope. Victoria looked curious and confused.
"Mine, Sir?"
Sir. He liked that.
"Oh yes. I think you left them in my private copy room." Jameson carefully opened the envelope and pulled out four copies.
Victoria's eyes widened. No. No. Nono. NO!! There was no way, no possible way. She'd cleared the copy cache. It was a joke! She was playing around! Janette, another secretary, dared her to do it! She fumbled and dropped the stack of documents as her face reddened. She wanted to run away, but Jameson's gaze held her still. He grinned like the Cheshire cat as he turned the photos over to show her the photocopied details of her rounded bare ass and pussy, pressed shamelessly against the copier glass. She remembered the pleasurable flash of heat that curled against her nethers as the copier did its job. She bit her bottom lip. She was fired. She knew it.
Victoria was speechless.
"I must say, I've often wondered what was under those drab office clothes of yours... Now I know." Jameson laughed at the dumbstruck look on the woman's face across the room from him. "You cleared the cache at the copier. But not the cache on my personal computer. It's networked. I admire your determination to do your job.
Sneaking in to my office... I've been meaning to replace the copier in the staff room. It's a pain in the ass." He laid the photo copies on his desk and looked straight in to Victoria's eyes. She was scared spitless.
"Am I fired, Sir?" she licked her lips to wet them, her breath coming in short bursts. How would she explain this on another job application? I was fired due to a sexual harassment case where I photocopied my bare ass on my boss's private copier. Victoria could see it now. She wouldn't be able to work as a secretary ever again. Or pursue any of her dreams beyond that.
Jameson watched the girl as her mind scrambled behind sea blue eyes. "Fired? No," he said in a low tone, "on one condition."
Victoria perked at the possibility that her professional dreams weren't dashed entirely. "Yes Sir?"
"You change your dress code."
Victoria blinked and looked down. Were her clothes really that bad? She smoothed down the wrinkles in the pencil skirt she wore, wincing at the black smudges she'd left there.
She left her boss's office in a daze. She looked down at the credit card in her hand. Jameson's name was emblazoned in gold. He'd given her the name of a store and a shop associate and told her she'd be in good hands. The whole idea of a man telling her how to dress to please him had turned her on in so many different ways she didn't know what to do with herself. Her nipples were hard, chafing against her bra. Her panties were soaked through with her own juices.
Forgetting the copy job she'd planned, Victoria picked up her purse from the storage box under her desk. Her knees were weak and it took her a moment to right herself. The walk to the elevator was torture as she had to pass Jameson's office again. Although she avoided looking, she could feel his eyes searing through her during her entire walk down the hall up until the elevator doors closed.
---
The next day Victoria had followed orders to the T. She wore a classy flirty skirt. No stockings. Jameson was very strict about that. The neckline of her blouse plunged far lower than any standards she'd ever set for herself, offering the barest glimpse of the bra beneath it. She wore matching panties beneath the skirt, and heels that made her feet hurt, but made her ass perky and her legs go on for miles. Her blonde hair was no longer in her trademark bun, but fell down her back in loose curls and waves. She felt like a supermodel. Victoria's Secret. She smirked at the idea.
The instant Victoria turned on her computer station, her phone buzzed to usher her in to Jameson's office. She quickly crossed the hallway and entered the office. Jameson was in the middle of a phone call and motioned for her to close the blinds. Victoria did so, her senses heightened as cool air flicked areas of flesh she had never bared before now. She noted the air conditioner was on as her nipples tightened beneath the most exquisite lingerie she'd ever worn. She reached in to the cup of the bra and pulled out Jameson's credit card, sliding it over the polished mahogany surface toward him.
