Working in an office can be a lot of fun, I've learned from previous experiences. But the office that I'm a secretary for--for almost a year now--has to be the greatest, and most fulfilling one there is. The escapades I've been involved in have opened my sexual delights to heights beyond measure.
Here is my first such sensual act; it happened on the first day I got the job, and I still masturbate to it to this very day.
My name is Trisha, and I just finished my first day of work at the offices of Devin and Devine, a small law firm that caters to the porn industry. The bosses are Devin--a thirty-four-year-old stunning blonde that loves to flaunt her long, curvaceous legs, and her best friend from their old days of starring in movies together, Devine. Devine is a fair-skinned, gray-eyed woman two years' Devin's junior. Her coal-black hair is always worn in large, spiral curls that always seem to be perfection itself.
I, myself, am a very sexually-enlightened mature gal of thirty-six. My looks never seemed to fade, as I was adamant about taking care of myself at an early age. They are both taller than me by about two inches (I am a tiny woman), and my slender body always ached to be touched and handled. Breasts that are firm and perky--and of adequate size--are mounted high on my chest. My eyes are small pools of emerald, and my hair is thin and red, spilling down my back like the lava from an extremely hot volcano.
Anyway, now that the introductions are over, I'll tell you about my first day.
After hearing about this firm from a friend, and needing a new secretary job (I have been a professional one since I was eighteen), I decided to check it out. I was dressed to make mouths drool, and organs leak cream. I had my hair done up in that classy look, and my make-up was soft, but at the same time, alluring. The business jacket and skirt I donned were of a deep blue shade, with very thin vertical stripes. Under my jacket I wore a black, button-down shirt, and the collars folded over the collars of the blazer. The skirt came to right above my knee--about four inches--and I had on a pair of silk nylon thigh-highs. Strappy high-heels adorned my delicate feet. I was ready.
I strolled in with my briefcase in hand around eight-thirty in the morning. The office was air-conditioned (thank God!), and had the usual smells I was used to: ink, paper, metal, and that wonderful potpourri of many womanly scents combined.
I noticed the young girl sitting at the reception desk. She was no older than, say, nineteen or twenty, and she was beautiful. Her smile beamed at me as I approached.
"Hi, my name is Trisha Valun, and I'm supposed to start today. Can you help me find my way around?"
I returned her smile, and checked out her legs as she stood from her desk.
She reached out a hand, and said in a friendly voice: "Hi. My name's Carrie, and I would love to. We're still a small firm, yet, so it won't take long. Follow me."
No problem there, I thought, as I leered at her two cheeks swaying in her loose, plaid skirt. She had on a button-down shirt, also, but hers was tighter than mine; I could see her white bra-strap across her back. Her stockings had those lines going up from the ankle, splitting her shapely legs in half. Her heels were of the "fuck-me" variety, and made her calves more sinewy.
We walked down the aisle toward the rear, right-side of the office. She pointed to a comfy little cubicle just outside the windowless office of the bosses. It had all the basic components of a secretarial cubicle, so I won't bore with the details. She pulled the chair out for me--which I thought was overly nice, but sweet. I sat, and asked her when I should expect instructions from one of the bosses.
She grinned down at me; it seemed like she was chewing on me with her blue eyes, and I felt my pussy getting heated. She leaned forward, placing the palms of her hands on the desk--giving me a view of her mounds of cleavage--and said, "Don't worry, Ms. Valun. They'll be out for you shortly. I think you're gonna love working here; I know I do." She winked at me, twirled so her skirt rode high, revealing the stocking-tops and straps that connected them to her garter belt, and walked off.
What in the world is goin' on here? I wondered.
But, she was right: I was thinking that I could like this place....
I took this time to look around, scanning the office to see all the other people that worked here. Being a lover of pornography, I recognized some of the women and men as former stars. This was incredible! I knew this was the place for me. Quite a few of them I had actually fingered myself to, watching as they chugged cock, ate pussy, or just plain fucked in both the asshole and cunt.
I felt the sudden urge to go to the bathroom for a quick masturbation session, when the door to the bosses' office opened up. Out walked Devin, platinum hair glimmering, with a full-lipped, red-painted smile. She beckoned me in with a French-manicured finger gesture.
Rising, I grabbed my briefcase off the desk, and followed her into their office.
She was dressed in a white business skirt and blazer like me--except for the color. She was also wearing stockings or pantyhose that were as white as winter snow. Covering her feet, all the way up to her knees, were cotton-shaded leather, spike-heeled boots. Her ass looked glorious as I shut the door behind me.
Their office was very spacious. A large, rectangle table was set in the center. At the left and right sides were their desks, facing each other. Couches lined the other walls. The most interesting objects in the room, though, were hanging on the walls. Almost every single sexual toy and device that existed were displayed on them.
I was really taken aback by all this, when Devin sat down on the table in front of me next to Devine, crossing her legs slowly, said, "Do you like what you see of our business so far?"
I stole a glance at the two sets of lengthy legs before me, and responded: "You bet I do, Ms. Devin. You have a very interesting office here."
"Just Devin, please, Trisha. Now, do you know why we hired you?"
"Of course. I am to be your secretary. And yours, as well," I nodded to Devine, who looked scrumptious in her very tight-fitting and extremely short spandex shorts. Her legs were glistening with sweat, like she just got through running or something. Her sports-bra was stretched taught across her huge tits; her nipples were trying to pierce the thin fabric. Her feet were covered with athletic sneakers.
