Being a corporate lawyer isn't an easy life. One must work very long hours, not to mention operate at an extremely high performance level consistently regardless of one's personal issues, such as lack of sleep, marital problems, and so on. It can strain even the strongest of relationships. Which is why I usually stay away from them. Oh, I get laid. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a robot. But in my line of work, I'd prefer to avoid unnecessary complications.
It's after working hours and I am the only person left in the building. My office has one wall that is floor to ceiling glass that overlooks the metropolitan area downtown. I can see the city from my office as if you were looking through a panoramic view finder. It is dusk and a faint pink light is still visible in the distance. But the city has come alive with thousands of lights lighting the sky like fireflies do on a hot summer night. The only light on in my office is from the desk lamp at the edge of the mahogany desk I have come to call home. I spend more hours here than at my flat a few blocks away.
I sit in the burgundy leather wing back chair and feel the cool leather against the backs of my thighs. I am wearing what I like to think of as my "lawyer's uniform". White button up silk blouse, black pencil skirt that stops right above my knees and black heels that make the muscles in my calves look like a ballet dancer on point. My skirt is a little shorter than I like and rides up when I sit or bend over. I'm fairly certain that at some point I have given my assistant Regina quite a show as my hot pink garters peeked from the hem of my skirt as I bent to sign for a package. She never said anything but I could tell by the way her eyes scanned me from the floor to my slightly messy locks, she had seen my secret ammunition.
There was something about the way she looked at me at times that made my temperature rise. Not out of embarrassment, but the way you feel when a really hot guy checks you out. The crazy thing is I have never thought about a woman that way. I would say I love dick too much to have lesbian tendencies but there was something about Regina's soft, full lips and beautiful gray eyes that stirred something deep inside me. It didn't hurt that she had a body to die for. The perfect rounded ass, flat stomach, long legs, and breasts that most women dream of. Ok, I'm not quite sure where that came from, but I really did admire the way she moved and how her curves were accentuated in the tight dresses she wore. She was beautiful but in an unassuming way. She didn't realize how men looked at her, or if she did she didn't acknowledge it. But I think she was well aware of how my eyes lingered on her cleavage or the way I bit my bottom lip when she licked hers.
I don't understand this sudden fascination with her but I slowly lean back in my chair. I lay my head back and close my eyes, imagining her there with me. I picture her hands caressing my body, softly running her fingertips along my sensitive skin. I'm imagining what I would say or do if the opportunity ever presented itself to be seduced by such a magnificent creature. I am so deep in thought that I don't notice the footsteps in the hallway. Over my shoulder, as if from nowhere I hear someone clear their throat. Oh, God! I thought I was alone. All of a sudden I am utterly relieved that I had not acted on the urge to masturbate. I was mortified at the thought of being caught with my hand in my pink satin G-string. Then I hear a very familiar voice break the silence.
"I thought you had left for the night?"
It was Regina. I can only assume she was doing a little extra preparation in one of the other research rooms down the hall. She stood there silently, her eyes giving me a full inspection. I hesitate only for a moment, trying to compose myself and my thoughts.
