"Damn, girl, you've got a sexy pair of boobs!" Kim Hopkins said to her co-worker, Kenna Scott for, like, the 1,000 time.
Kenna flushed, glanced down at her well-filled blouse and just started to answer when a customer came in, interrupting Kenna and Kimmy's almost daily mutual admiration society meeting. The two women both worked for the Tammy Rogers Real Estate Brokerage.
"Good morning!" Kenna said, brightly, eyes gleaming at what she was looking at, standing before her. "Welcome to Rogers Real Estate. How may we help you?"
The customer was a well-contoured lady of about forty, and her smile at viewing young Kenna, were a very quick indication of at least one kind of help the woman would clearly not turn down. Wearing very snug pants and a showy, very tight, bright-colored blouse, several flashing rings on her fingers, a certain air of confidence and well-being the woman exuded, gave Kim Hopkins, used to sizing up potential clients, important revealing clues . . .
'A rich widow,' she bet herself, 'either buying or selling. Who cares which?' Kim also took full notice of the gleam in the woman's deep brown eyes as she took in the jutting upthrust of Jodi's youthful front. That same glorious sight that greeted every visitor/potential client to Rogers! A wonderful first impression, along with Kenna's dazzling smile, for anyone, male or female alike, who happened to wander through the door.
All males coming into the real estate office, mesmerized by her dazzling smile, her stand-out body, always well-displayed and her winning personality, all adding up to the total viewing pleasure that was Tammy Rogers Real Estate's receptionist, would have been disappointed to know they had no chance, none, with the gorgeous receptionist. Which, of course, they had no way of knowing, at first, and certainly didn't stop them from trying, even once they did.
Only 19, this was saucy-looking Kenna's first job and her boss, the multi-talented Tammy Rogers, had seduced her skilfully, and expertly took her cherry with a bang, on the plush couch in Tammy's office, not very long into Kenna's initial interview. So intense had been the pleasures experienced, for the first time, by Kenna Scott, as her new boss worked her over on the couch, the fumblings of her high-school boy-friends had faded from her mind, rejected outright, and, with shivery glee she'd embraced the lifestyle represented by her new boss and new role-model, the gorgeous Tammy Rogers. Kenna'd never felt as comfortable, when with a boy; as content as she felt in her new boss' warm embraces. Her enjoyment of which became almost daily occurences. Quite a perk to her job!
(And quite a perk for the woman paying her salary, who already reaped a substantial dividend just by having Kenna greeting potential clients!)
So complete was young Kenna's acceptance of the lifestyle her new boss had indoctrinated her into, male customers of Rogers were a no-no for the sexy receptionist. Conversely, though, sexy-looking female clients, like the stacked beauty before her now, were right on Kenna's radar and with a wink of an eye, a snap of her fingers or a lick of her luscious lips, Kenna would have dropped the laundry for the older stunner, right then and there.
But not today. Only because Kim Hopkins happened to be standing right there.
"I'll take it from here, Kenna," Kim Hopkins murmured.
As the receptionist, Kenna did not get involved in actual selling or securing of clients. A lush, sensual redhead, just nineteen years old, she was delightful office decoration. Keeping visitors to the office pleasantly occupied while they waited for the availability of Tammy herself, or delectable Kim Hopkins, sales-manager, or any of the other hand-picked, hand-bedded, all-female staff of sales-women. That was her main job. And she knew computers. Bonus!
Kenna was not resentful. She understood her function and importance in Tammy's set-up and locked-door visits in Tammy's office rewarded her for that every day. Her sultry good looks and amazing chest were also getting her bedded by more than her share of hot women customers, who'd make dates with her for when she was off work, now that Tammy had clued her in to her true nature. Besides, she and Kimmy and Tammy were all quite willing to share. If one scored, often, they all did. Sometimes together!
"I'm Kim Hopkins, madam!" Kenna's co-worker gushed. "Sales manager. Very pleased to make your acquaintance. How may I be of help?"
The svelte newcomer looked her slowly, deliberately, up and down and Tammy Rogers' top saleswoman felt a sweet tingle in the clit. An experienced Kimmy could easily see by the looks she and Kenna were receiving, that this woman obviously knew her way around a pussy! She was statuesque, with the bearing of an experienced model or showgirl. Her dark hair was beautifully coiffed and her mouth had a certain pout which Kim liked a lot! Oooohhh! Kimmy was already shivering, hoping that she'd be allowed to taste the glittering lip-gloss with which this beautiful woman had decorated her full, lush lips.
'By the panty-warming looks I'm getting, she's definitely interested,' Kim thought. 'Which means I'm half-way to a sale already.' Kim had a definite talent for translating bedroom interest from women into bottom-line dollars and cents. 'And I'll bet my bottom dollar that she's damn good in the sack! I've turned a trick or two to make a good sale, and this pussy will be a real pleasure in bed, I'm sure.'
"Oh, I'm sure you can, honey," the woman murmured, giving Kim a high-wattage look and a dazzling smile. "Help me, that is. I have a rather large property to sell. Now, may we talk in your office?" She gave Kenna another once over, her eyes gleaming. "This reception area is nice and comfy but some of the decorations are just a little distracting."
Kim Hopkins chuckled, knowing full-well to which office decoration she was referring.
"Oh, of course," she said, smoothly, leading the newcomer through a door that had stenciled on the glass - KIMBERLEY HOPKINS. And underneath in fancy script, only slightly smaller, Sales Manager.
The woman entered behind Kim, admiring the swing of her sweet ass, sat her own well-shaped bottom in a customer chair in front of Kim's desk, crossed her long, shapely legs and leaned back comfortably.
"I'm Renita Eadie," she murmured.
Kim felt another hot jolt, this one connected to money. She'd thought she'd recognized this woman from the papers. This was money, all right. Big money!
It had been in the financial sections of the local dailies, Trevor Eadie, retired oilman, had died the previous month, leaving his widow very well-heeled indeed.
"Mrs. Eadie, I'm very flattered that you have come to our agency," Kim said with the very right, proper enunciation. "Naturally, we were sorry to hear of your husband's death."