The moment she walked into my office I knew that she was going to be an issue. Not the kind of issue you may initially picture, one of a challenging and insanity inducing battle. No. This would be the kind of issue that I could imagine but not quite place. The kind of issue that would dig under my skin and take root until I figured it out. If ever I figured it out.
She was silent, regardless of the fact she was walking into my office for an interview. No greeting, no nervous look, she simply stayed quiet and waited, expectantly, for my move. Like a lamb for the slaughter. It was delicious, and my pussy was already beginning to twitch with the images.
"Hello," I began. "I'm Catalina. Are you here to interview for the secretary opportunity?"
She only nodded, looking at me with those wide baby blue eyes. I wanted her badly to speak, and while I already knew her name, I wanted it to come from her lips. Lips that were luscious and resting softly against the other, a defined Cupid's bow just begging to be kissed. Her thick dark hair fell in waves over her tan shoulders and stopped just below her breasts. Those breasts were the perfect size, just big enough for my palms, and I could only imagine what her nipples looked like.
God, she was fucking beautiful, all five feet of her slim, feminine body. She had to taste like wine.
"What's your name?" I asked her.
"Tara," she trailed off, clearing her throat with the slightest of sounds. "Tara Henley."
I whispered her name once, committing it to memory.
"I'm glad to meet you, Miss Henley. Come, sit."
She moved slowly but decisively, stopping just a few feet away from me to take her seat across my desk. I studied her profile from up close, and every inch of her was hardwired to make my pussy drool with need, but I wondered what she thought of me. I knew I was more than attractive, but did a tall curvy blonde fit within her type? Was she even into women at all? She could be like me. Happily attracted to both...
We would soon find out. That much I was certain.
"Tell me about yourself, what brings you here and what you want to accomplish."
My question finally snapped her attention, and she dragged her teeth gently over her bottom lip as she brought up the courage to speak more than a few syllables.
"I-I'm a graduate student majoring in English literature," Ah, an innocent intellectual with enough imagination to let her mind fly. "I want to be a novelist one day, and I love working with anything related to books. But, um, apart from that I enjoy working with anything involving organization and paperwork. Overlooking procedures and maximizing your day however I can."
I imagined her efficiently down on her knees maximizing the use of her mouth against my pussy.
"What kind of novels do you want to publish?" I asked.
"Oh, well. Not very conventional, if I'm honest," but her eyes lit up when she spoke and I knew I needed her to continue, that way my chances of having her look up at me like that when I made her cum were tenfold.
"Tell me anyway." I dragged my pen over my lip, and I saw her eyes dip down for a fraction of a second.
"Romance novels," she said softly.
The corners of my mouth spread into a slight smile.
"There's nothing strange about romance," I told her, watching with pleasure the way her mouth softened. "Unless..."
I had her there, I could tell, because she leaned forward in her seat as she waited for me to elaborate.
"Unless?" She asked.
I kept my expression casual. "Unless you write different kinds of romances. Non-conventional and raw. My kind of romance."
Could she tell I was coming onto her?
"Different kinds," she repeated, brows furrowing.
"Yes, you know what I mean. Don't you?" I questioned, looking directly into those blue eyes.
She reddened ever so slightly. "Maybe."
She couldn't be as innocent as she appeared then. Good. I could shoot my shot.
