It's Friday morning - "Casual Friday" at the office. I'm walking along with a friend when I see her coming toward me in the hall. As usual, I'm curious to see how she will react to me, and as we approach one another, I can tell this will include the usual awkwardness. I'm slightly behind Gina, my friend, who speaks first, a pleasant, "Hi, Deborah!" that draws a smile and a "Hi" in return. But then she notices me, and the reaction is clear. Not as blatantly obvious as it used to be, but still noticeable. Deborah's face flushes and she looks away slightly, then adds a quiet, "Hi, Milene."
Gina waits until we are well past, then nudges me and gives me a questioning look. "What was that all about?" she asks. "You do something to piss her off?"
I assure her that I didn't, that for whatever reason, Deborah just seems uncomfortable with me at times. "It's odd," I add innocently, "because I work with her on a fairly regular basis." But I know the truth. She is uncomfortable in these situations, but it's because of the dirty little secret we share - a secret I know we'll be sharing again in the near future.
Sure enough, soon after I return to my desk, a late afternoon appointment pops up on my calendar: "Deborah and Milene - Special Project". I smile to myself. Of course it never specifies what the "special project" is, but I know. It's Deborah herself, and my assignment is to lick and suck her until she is thoroughly satisfied - usually through several shivering orgasms. It's by far the best assignment I've had at this job.
Deborah Taylor is the Director of my section, the woman that my supervisor, Angie, reports to. She's much older than I - in her early forties, I think - though she looks awfully good for her age. She's a tall woman - statuesque is the right term - and rather buxom, though not in the "big beautiful woman" sense. No, Deborah is tall, but very height-weight proportional. It's true, her hips are fairly wide, showing the slight expansion that always seems to come with age, but not too wide, just full and womanly - and sexy. Looking at her, it's obvious that she was an athlete in her younger days, perhaps in basketball, or (my guess) volleyball. Her sumptuous breasts and long, shapely legs just command your attention and set a girl to thinking naughty thoughts - at least, that is, a girl like me.
The irony is that it was Angie, my supervisor, whom I was really drawn to when I first started about four months ago. Angie is just adorable - a cute, petite blonde with a quick smile and a girlish laugh. Like Deborah, she's older than I am, but not so much - about fifteen years older, in her late thirties. And while Deborah has the self-confidence and command of a person in charge, Angie has a natural warmth and friendliness that just wins people over immediately. From the start, she treated me as a valuable member of her team, despite the fact that I was an inexperienced temp. I was in love with her by the end of the first day.
But alas, Angie is very happily married, and all indications are that she is hopelessly straight. Of course, the same could be said about Deborah, though there are some indicators to give a girl hope. Deborah has been divorced for quite a while, at least ten years, and from what I hear, no one has ever seen her with a man. Of course, that may just be because she has no time for men. She's pretty much a workaholic, arriving at the office before everyone else and seldom leaving before 6:00 PM. So there is really no indication that Deborah is interested in girls. On the other hand, we all have needs, don't we?
It was my own needs I was thinking of as I sat in Angie's office one Friday morning for our weekly meeting. My mind was wandering, as it often did in these one-on-one sessions. It's not that Angie wasn't interesting. In fact, it was just the opposite - she was far TOO interesting. Invariably I found myself swerving off into fantasyland, thinking of how sweet it would be to be with her in another, more private setting. And such was the case that day. Just as I was thinking how adorable she looked, fighting the urge to lean forward and kiss her on those darling lips, I came back to reality to hear, "... so Deborah wants you to work on this special project for her. She'll set up a time to talk about it."
"Oh... okay," I stammered, trying to regain my focus. "Gee, working with the director - I wonder why she would choose me?"
"Probably because I told her how wonderful you are," Angie said with a smile and a wink. "I know you won't let me down." She reached over and touched my arm for emphasis, sending a little jolt of excitement up my spine.
God, I do love this woman, I thought. I returned her smile and assured her I'd live up to her expectations. Then I listened attentively as she explained more about the project - something to do with employee bonus plans for the coming year.
The meeting with Deborah was actually later that day. Her secretary told me she was running late - from her look, that seemed to be a common occurrence - and that I could just wait in Deborah's office until she got back. I took a seat in one of the "guest" chairs, in front of her desk, and filled my time by looking around the room. It was a nice office, not overly large, but roomy enough and nicely furnished. Her desk chair looked very comfortable - padded leather with a nice high back - and on the one side of the room was a sofa. I wondered if that was ever used or was just for show. She also had some personal effects, including business awards and what appeared to be souvenirs of personal trips. And of course, the usual family things - pictures of her and her two kids, who, from the pictures, were both in their teens.
I had no idea what to expect from Deborah, and I got my first surprise when she rushed into the room, apologizing for being late. It was, of course, "Casual Friday", and Deborah took advantage of it like everyone else. The surprise was not that she was wearing jeans. It was the way her designer jeans fit - tight and completely form-fitting, like a thick coat of paint, highlighting every curve of her long, athletic legs. And when she sat down - oh my god, they were even tighter, clinging everywhere, including a snug fit in the perfect vee between her legs. I had to stop myself before she caught me staring.
Apparently Deborah had practically run from her previous meeting to try to be on time for ours. She fanned herself to cool down, smiling cutely and laughing at her own expense as she brushed her light brown, chin-length hair away from her face. But then she quickly got down to business, laying out the project and the role she expected me to play. I listened intently, but I was constantly distracted by her body. I couldn't help but sneak an occasional peek at her denim-wrapped thighs and that luscious spot between them, imagining how much fun I could have down there.
