Her name was Diane White. In a company and field where the glass ceiling had rarely been broken she was the highest ranking female executive. Her title was Director of Sales and Marketing. She changed my life forever.
But, I am getting ahead of myself.
My name is Samuel Hendricks Allen and everyone calls me Sam. Well, my mother calls me Samuel and sometimes even Samuel Hendricks Allen, when I'm in trouble. Even now she will shake her head and say, "Samuel Hendricks Allen, what am I to do with you?"
My story starts in the second semester of my senior year in college. Barring catastrophe, in a few short months I would graduate with a degree in Business with a Minor in Marketing and a Concentration in Business Psychology. All well and good as things go but since I was graduating from a small Liberal Arts college in the Northeast many potential employers considered my degree only marginally better than an English or History degree. This fact was attested to by the multitude of rejection letters I had stuck to the wall of my dorm room. Maybe the fact that I wasn't Dean's List during my tenure had something to do with those rejections. I had decent GPA around 3.0, but in my major my grades were good enough I would have been Cum Laude, a fact I tried to emphasize whenever possible.
That a company of the size and reputation of Amalgamated Manufacturing, LLC would even come to our campus to conduct interviews was unfathomable. Typically they hired MBAs from Dartmouth, Chicago and MIT. Apparently, AM was looking for a new approach and so someone had the bright idea of recruiting from smaller schools. AM was so highly thought of as an employer that out of my class of 685 students, 312 applied for an interview. 300 were shot down. For no reason known to me I was one of the twelve. From that dozen, three were flown to Atlanta, the corporate headquarters, for a day of interviews.
If Amalgamated was 'interested' you were invited to dinner with some first year employees and a few executives. I didn't see the other two from my school among the eight invited to dinner that night. Three days later I found a letter in my campus mailbox offering me a job, contingent upon my graduation. I accepted.
Following graduation I basically fucked around for the summer. I hit the beach, went to bars, picked up girls and generally relaxed. At the end of August I flew to Omaha to move into an apartment the company had arranged for me. The Tuesday after Labor Day I began the one year training program. There were 32 of us in the class. They told us flat out that only 20 would remain with the company at the end of a year. Of the group it was pretty well split between MBAs (17) and Bachelor's Degrees (15). The class was diverse and about 50/50 men and women.
A month into the program I was questioning whether I wanted to be the first drop out from the group. Boring, tedious, dull do not begin to describe the experience. Seven hours a day in a classroom with dull instructors covering mundane and even arcane subjects like filling out HR forms, proper telephone conduct and dress code. I mean, the safety instructions before an airplane takes off are more exciting. Plus Omaha wasn't exactly New York or LA. I mean a very nice town, people exceptionally pleasant but not exactly excitement central.
The only thing that was making it the least bit bearable was that there were a lot of no strings attached or friends with benefits liaisons happening among the group. I had already slept with four of the women and had repeat performances with three of them. They were bored out of their skulls as well. In the fifth week of the program a storm whipped into that boring classroom and fired a lightening bolt through the room.
That storm was Diane White. She was our guest speaker for the day and would be having lunch with the class. There was a palpable rise in the energy level of the room the moment she walked in. She was not announced beforehand, she wasn't on the schedule or the syllabus but most everyone of us knew who she was the moment she walked, no, she strode, in that morning.
My guess is that she was about 5' 5", but in the platform spike heels she wore her legs looked about four feet long. Her legs weren't the first thing you noticed. She had a figure like a bikini model. Her tailored suit, a jacket and a pencil skirt, fit her like a glove without being cheap or lewd. Those long stems rose to a perfect set of hips, flared enough to be feminine but in no way wide. Her thighs and ass could only be described as sculpted. They were firm and the muscles flexed noticeably with each step. The button of her suit jacket left no doubt her stomach was flat and allowed her breasts to swell above nicely. Not massive, her chest was noticeable without being distracting. Her auburn hair fell in long waves to between her shoulder blades. It was thick, shiny and soft. She appeared to wear very little makeup, perhaps some eyeshadow and light lipstick. Her brown eyes were sharp, serious and alive reflecting the intelligence in her head and the energy throughout.
"I can take it from here, Henry," were her first words, delivered with a smile as one of the course leaders was stepping forward, about to introduce her. He sat down. Turning to the class she introduced herself.
"My name is Diane White and I am the Director of Marketing and Sales for Amalgamated Manufacturing. Today I'm going to spend some time telling you a little about our company, about what we do and about how you might fit into the future of this enterprise." Everyone was sitting straight up and alert in their seats. For the next two hours, with out notes or aids of any kind she held us captivated. At lunch people almost physically hurt one another to get a seat at her table. I didn't even try. I let the toadies scamper in her wake on the way to the lunchroom, taking my time leaving the classroom. By the time I had grabbed my food the near melee to sit with her was over and I easily found an open seat at one of the other tables.
"Hey Jennifer, you want to take a study break for some stress relief (the euphemism for hooking up) tonight?" I asked leaning over to the petite brunette to my left. We had already had two very enjoyable 'study breaks' together.
"I'd like that. Haven't had any good stress relief since our last study break."
We made our plans for the night, ate, and then headed back to the classroom. Diane was leaving after lunch and so she stood at the door of the lunchroom and shook hands with each one of us as we filtered out.
Extending my hand I introduced myself, "Sam Allen. A pleasure to meet you Ms. White."
"The pleasure is all mine, Samuel," she replied, looking me in the eye and clasping my hand in both of hers. Perhaps because of her power or perhaps because she was even more attractive up close I felt a tingle in my loins as she lay her left hand over our joined right hands. She looked me straight in the eye but I caught a flicker of a downward glance allowing her to take in the whole of me. Her long nails, perfectly manicured with a light red polish, drew across the back of my hand as we separated and I moved on.
I didn't see her again for three months. That night, after an initial frenzied coupling, as Jennifer and I were relaxing before a longer, more gentle second helping we talked.
"What did you think of Diane White?" she asked her tone and inflection indicating just how impressive she thought Ms. White was.
"Quite the force of nature, wouldn't you say? Plus, pardon my cave man thinking, hot as hell," I laughed.
"Definitely hot. I'd fuck her and I'm not even into women." She laughed as she said it.