Laura was looking forward to her first day of work, and the care she took while dressing belied that fact. She described herself as "pretty", and knew that she was far from beautiful. However, because she was going to be interacting with clients, she dressed to accentuate the accents that she had.
Her navy blue, lacy bra encased her firm 34B breasts snugly, although she far from needed it to hold them against gravity. Her matching thong would preclude panty lines beneath the form-fitting, above the knee skirt she had selected. Her makeup was tastefully and professional appearing, accentuating her large, lustrous eyes and kiss-me lips. Her blouse was white, with the top several buttons undone-not enough to appear unprofessional, but hinting at where her scant cleavage was. The blazer that matched the skirt would help keep her appearance professional as well, and the medium-heeled spikes matched the skirt and blazer to complete the ensemble.
Giving a last critiquing glance in the mirror, Laura picked up her briefcase before driving in to work. She had just landed her editorial job after only a few years working for this book publisher. However, while some had criticized her for going outside her lane, the notes that she had left on manuscripts had garnered her the attention of the supervising editors, and ultimately led to her promotion-her dream job. Now she would have the major editing role, and a staff to support her.
Laura had thrown herself into her work. Her parents had cut her off from them for pursuing this career instead of working in healthcare-a job they had described as "economically safe". She had no siblings left alive, her grandparents had all died years ago, and her only aunt lived on the other side of the country. Because of this, she had learned self-reliance, but at the expense of friendships. She was all alone in this city, but she relished the experience.
Arriving at the skyscraper that housed her publishing company employers, she walked through the expansive and expensive lobby to the elevators, pushing the button for a floor several above what she had previously done. Arriving to her suite of offices, she greeted her staff pleasantly and cheerfully as she moved to her own office. Closing the door, she leaned back against it and gave a muffled squeal of giddy joy.
The rest of the day was spent arranging her office as she needed supplies or materials while maneuvering through her workload. The next several weeks were spent similarly, slowly arranging her office to suit her while being productive as well. Her time off was spent mostly arranging for decorations for her office, and work that she wasn't able to accomplish accompanied her home.
As time went on, however, she became aware that she was missing out on relationships. Her staff would get together every now and again, or she would overhear them talking about time spent with friends or family. Laura began to make up her mind to be more open to relationships.
The following Monday, Laura's secretary knocked at her door and announced that her next appointment was waiting in the conference room with his manuscript, and the entire board of editors was going to be in this meeting. These initial meetings were all the same-somebody famous or noteworthy had written something (usually with the help of multiple ghost writers or a co-writer), and it was being pitched to the company as a business offer.
Laura's attire this day was the same as other days-professional, yet flirty. It had a tendency of making women jealous of her, and men desire her-both of which she used to her advantage, thereby taking advantage for her employers. Today, she was dressed even more simply however. Black, patent leather, knee-high, spike-heeled boots, and a sweater dress with just the right amount of cleavage and clinginess.
Walking in to the conference room, she appraised her potential client even as he sized her up. She knew that he was a thought-provoker with his writing, which was well known. However, his bio pictures-always designed to show the writer to their best advantage-had done him a disservice. He was extremely well dressed, and even more handsome than she had anticipated. She felt arousal for the first time since college.
She noticed that the attraction was mutual, but fortunately (unfortunately?) the rest of the editors were arriving and making their greetings. The writer-Stephen-was pitched by his agent appropriately. The rest of the editors allowed her to be the primary in the appraisals and negotiations. She was working on developing her reputation, and she knew it. She made her statements as fair yet discretionary as possible, and by the end of the meeting knew that she had acquitted herself well.
However, despite the talks, she felt the undercurrent between her and Stephen. If he weren't a client, she was certain that she would have followed up on the situation, but she had a job to do. And she would do it well.
As the meeting concluded, handshakes were given all around. The senior editor winked at her and squeezed her shoulder as he walked by Laura, and several of Laura's superiors also gave her discrete congratulations as they made their way from the room. Stephen's agent, Tim, was also appreciative, and made statements about looking forward to possibly working more with her in the future. Stephen, however, lingered.
"I hope you don't feel I was too hard on your work," Laura decided to emphasize. "You're obviously well accomplished, but there's just a lot that needs to be done in order to keep your reputation," she explained.
Stephen laughed. "I've been through the process a few times," he quipped. "Truth to tell, I just come up with the ideas and dictate them, then others actually write them out so they make sense. I'm a terrible writer on my own," he winked at her. Again, there was that undercurrent in the room, and Laura felt herself becoming sucked into Stephen's fuck-me eyes.
Over the next few months, Stephen's agent and Laura were in touch frequently. The manuscript was in the final phases after what seemed to be interminable rounds of meetings, but Laura knew that the time and effort would be well worth it to both her employers and Stephen. However, she had made little progress in her search for friends. She had allowed her social skills to lapse too far in focusing on her education and career, and found herself unable to interact on anything other than a professional level.
Finally, the finalizing touches were being placed on Stephen's book. This necessitated more and frequent conversations, and of necessity she found herself contacting Stephen directly. Several times they met at restaurants or cafes for these discussions, and Laura found herself flirting more and more earnestly with the man. To her credit, Stephen flirted back, frequently touching her hand, thigh, or shoulder.
Eventually, the manuscript was published. Once the completion of the run was announced, Stephen called Laura to invite her over to celebrate. She expected him to be in business casual, as he always was, but she decided she wanted to impress. She did her makeup more formally and more flirtatiously, making her eyes smoky, and with a deeper shade of lipstick than she usually used.
She also had allowed herself the luxury of buying some new dresses. Not entirely sure what Stephen had planned, she decided on a daring, red cocktail dress. It had a plunging neckline, as well as an open back-either precluding a bra. The skirt ended mid-thigh, but she decided on dark, thigh-high stockings with an elastic lace band around her leg to hold them up. She also decided on black stilettos, and placed her necessities in a clutch that matched her dress. Taking an Uber instead of trusting herself to drive after the night ended, she met Stephen at his home.
As expected, he was dressed neatly in a button down shirt opened at the collar, nice slacks, with comfortable loafers on his feet. He opened the door to his house, looking her up and down appreciatively, then laughed and pulled her in for a hug. As had become their custom, they kissed each others' cheek, but then laughed and hugged again. She was proud to notice a bulge arousing against her stomach as the hug went on, but they were in a celebratory mood and loathe to pull away.
Finally however, they did, and Stephen welcomed her into his sprawling home. He gave her a tour, starting with the bathroom ("Since all women seem to need them frequently, he winked at her), then to his home office, then the living room and den, then finally to the formal dining room and the kitchen. Stephen shrugged wryly that even though it was humongous and well stocked, he couldn't cook to keep himself alive. Instead, they were having delivery from one of the upscale restaurants from downtown.
The meal was slowly consumed as they laughed together. Barely any of the wine was consumed, and yet Laura was becoming more consumed with thoughts that were highly unprofessional. She pictured herself helping Stephen clean up, and as she placed her dishes in the sink, him pinning her to the counter and exploring under her skirt. His mouth would nuzzle her neck as he did so, murmuring to her how sexy she was. His free hand would turn her face to his, and his mouth would capture hers-sweetly and tenderly.
Suddenly, she realized that she hadn't responded to a comment he had made, and blushed furiously. His gaze at her was amused, and she tried to cover up her faux pas. Stephen was gracious enough to allow her to do so, but his look became more intense. Laura excused herself to use the restroom, anticipating his teasing. However, as she passed, his hand caught hers. Looking down at it, she was acutely aware of how aroused she had become. Her nipples were tenting her dress, and her panties were soaked.
Stephen's eyes were focused on her chest, and his hand held hers as his free hand came up to stroke her breast through her dress, briefly, then pulled it aside and exposed her breast. The backs of his fingers brushed lightly over her exposed and firm nipple, then as she gasped slid over and exposed the other. This time, however, the fingers latched firmly on her sensitive nub and used it to pull her to himself.
Stephen's chair scraped against the floor as he stood, his head fully above hers, and he let go of her hand to latch onto her remaining peak. Laura couldn't help the gasp of pleasure as he squeezed, and she felt her knees go weak. Laura's eyelids fluttered in anticipation.
Stephen's words, however, were jarring. Instead of tender, they were mocking. "Quite the easy slut, aren't you?"
Shocked, Laura's eyes went immediately to Stephen's. His were calculating, and his words would normally have infuriated her. "A little work, dinner, and you're ready to drop your panties, aren't you?" For some reason though, tonight they captivated her. The fingers on her nipples tugged insistently, and she moaned involuntarily. Stephen immediately let go, using the motion to push the sides of her dress off her shoulders, which caused the dress to pool at her feet.
Stephen looked down her body, the backs of the fingers of one hand sliding down her bare side, then around the waistband of her thong before hooking inside. "I'm surprised these are still on-even more surprised than I am that you wore them at all," he said to her. She was both angered and excited by his words and tone, but there was more.
"Take them off."
