Amy was on vacation already, so when Mrs. Carole went home early for the day, leaving Wendy alone in the office with her Boss on a Friday afternoon, the result was all too predictable. He called her into his office as soon as Mrs. Carole's beat up station wagon pulled out of the parking lot, presumably to go over an important case file, and Wendy wound up clinging to the corner's of his oak desk, panting and gasping as he fucked her from behind doggie style. He had a big cock, and was a crude, uncaring lover. He enjoyed sticking a wet, gooey forefinger into her anus, and slapping her ass cheeks loudly when he came, shooting his wad on her bare white ass before making her clean his meat and hairy nuts with her tongue and ruby red lips.
Clean it, good, Wendy....mmmmhhhmmm.
Good, girl, he breathed contentedly, patting her atop her blonde hair like a puppy. You're the best para-legal ever, I think.
Wendy mumbled thanks as she tucked his now limp, glistening penis away and zipped him up carefully. She hated herself for liking what he made her do. She'd spent two years earning an Associates Degree, then six month's becoming accredited as a paralegal, just to turn into a well dressed bimbo tossed over a desk whenever her Boss got the 'urge'.
It didn't have to be this way, of course...
...When she graduated, jobs were harder to come by than she ever imagined. Dancy Family Law was the only practice to give her a call back, and the pay was enough to help her struggling parents after her father lost his job. Getting this job was a godsend, for them at least.
Amy, the office manager was in charge of screening new employees , and they hit it off right away. Wendy like Amy's cool demeanor and quiet professionalism. She dressed attractively without being provocative, and she spoke carefully, in a caring, motherly tone even though she was only a few years older than Wendy herself.
You have to dress professionally, be adaptable, and work long hours sometimes, she warned the young graduate. I won't tolerate any clerical mistakes. That could cost our clients money, or get us sued, as I'm sure you know.
Wendy nodded her head vigorously. In class, there were umpteen or more examples presented of small deadlines missed or misspelled words that cost firms and clients small fortunes.
We specialize in divorce and custody cases, obviously, Amy continued, but a typical case can involve business, real estate, pension and insurance documents and legal issues as well as custody, of course. Mr. Dancy is young, but he is the best attorney in the county. Would you like to meet him?
Of course, Wendy replied naturally. She'd heard about him already from her brother, who had just gone through a tough divorce and swore by him.
Best lawyer in town, by far, Hank told her. Of course, it's a shame what happened to Leslie. She asked what he meant by that, and Hank told her all about Leslie Brown, a pretty secretary he used to go to school with who worked for Dancy for three years before taking her own life. Sleeping pills I think, he told her.
On the way into her future boss's office Wendy noticed Leslie's picture by the door. She was indeed pretty, with brunette hair and alluring brown eyes. There was a plaque by the picture, inside a glass display case. In loving memory of: Leslie Brown, followed by her date of birth and passing. Sadly, it noted she left two children behind. Wendy suppressed a shudder, knowing suicide could happen to anyone. It didn't affect her desire for a job in any way, though, since she needed one so desperately.
Here's the paralegal applicant , Mr. Dancy, Amy said as she swung the office door open and ushered Wendy into the office. This is Wendy Page, she has an Associate's from State, a Certificate from Community, and a host of references and testimonials. Her resume is on your desk, sir.
Thank you, Amy. Dancy was yukking it up on the phone, feet propped up on his desk, coat casually tossed over the back of his recliner when they entered. Gotta go, Joe.
He hung up, stood and put his coat on as Amy nudged her forward and then disappeared, closing the door behind her as she went. She was alone with him now, taking a seat in front of his desk, and her first thought was lost in frazzle of utter amazement. Wendy had a hard time taking her eyes off him, he was so young and handsome.
Dark, sexy eyes, tanned face, wavy black hair, and a firm jaw, all with a dashing, disarming smile. He shrugged into his coat, the muscles in his thick shoulders and arms rippling under his dress shirt, and asked her if she needed anything before taking his seat.
Let's see...where is that resume...? His desk was a mess, but Wendy spotted her resume right away, under a pile of legal papers and post-it notes in the In tray on one corner of his desk, recognizing it by the pink paper clip she'd seen Amy use to attach the resume to her application earlier. She leaned over and plucked it free, then handed it to him.
Nice...wow, you are already making my life easier! Wendy beamed at the compliment. He flashed that winning smile again, and her heart melted. How could he be so young she wondered, and already a successful attorney? Sadly she noted he had a wedding band on, but that didn't mean she couldn't look and dream.
You can call me Mark, by the way. I like to keep things casual when no one is in the office.
She agreed, and then he peppered her with questions about her studies, her age, her computer skills and legal interests. Why did you become a paralegal? She had to lie about that one. Wendy wanted to tell him her father lost his job at the mill, and so she had to cut short her education, come home and take what she could get. That was the truth. Instead she claimed to be inspired watching old re-runs of Law and Order and CSI. Law and the legal profession fascinated her. He laughed out loud and his dark eyes twinkled. Wendy was sure he knew it was bullshit.
What did you really want to do, Wendy?
I wanted to be a Vet, she admitted. I love working with animals. I spent every summer volunteering at the County Animal Shelter in Avondale during high school. That admission led to a host of other questions, resulting in Wendy confessing the entire sad story of her aborted education. The interview was going really well, and Mark seemed really interested in her personally. He nodded and smiled, indulging her as she vented about her bad fortune, but making sure he knew she was determined to be a success at whatever profession life and the Good Lord put on her plate.
Okay, he finally said, rising to his feet. He checked his watch, I'm almost out of time here, but we are very interested in hiring you. Amy likes you, or you wouldn't be in my office, right now. We just lost one valuable secretary in a tragic incident a few months ago, and...he choked back a tear...you would be taking her place...we really need a good one.
I'll do my best, I promise...um, if you do hire me, that is, she added, not wanting to sound too sure of herself.
Great. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and guided her to the door, using his free hand to open it for her. Thank you, Wendy.
Thank you, sir.
