"Hello. I'm Mr. Devereux to see Ms. Hill," I said to the receptionist. My voice was clear and authoritative, but not overly aggressive. I was standing in front of her desk, which had the usual assortment of secretarial accoutrements; a large phone, pens, paper, rolodex and computer, which she was busily typing away at.
"Do you have an appointment?" She asked in a clipped tone without looking up. She casually tucked a strand of auburn hair away from her face as she continued to type. Her hair was in a simple ponytail that had probably taken an hour to get just right.
I sighed. It was never easy. Glancing around the room, I saw three other men sitting on the chairs and couches spread around. They were reading or typing and all of them were obviously waiting for Ms. Hill. "No, I do not have an appointment. But Ms. Hill expressed her eagerness in meeting with me," I told her, irritation starting to rise in my gut. "She told me that I would have no problem speaking with her at any time today."
"Well, obviously that is not the case," she responded, her voice rising in irritation.
"If you would just ask her, I'm sure this is just a simple misunderstanding." I ran my hand through my hair, a sign of frustration.
She tsked in annoyance and began backspacing on the keyboard. Finally she looked up at me. If she was impressed by my ridiculously expensive suit or striking blue eyes she gave no sign of it. "I have not been told anything about a
Mr. Devereux
," she spoke my name as if she doubted it was really mine, "and if she was expecting you, she would have told me. Now, take a seat," she commanded as she stood up, "and if she is interested in speaking with you, she will let me know."
Taking a piece of paper from her desk, she walked to the filing cabinet against the wall near her desk and opened the top drawer. It gave me a good view of the person blocking me from my business. She was on the tallish side, probably 5'8" or 5'9" with the long, lean lines of a genetically gifted woman who has worked to maintain her looks. Her gray skirt stopped above the knee, and the smooth skin of her legs trailed down to patent leather stilettos that were just a shade under inappropriate. With her matching blazer wrapped around her chair, her tight cream blouse and pert breasts were on full display. I doubted they were real. This was L.A., after all.
Obviously the file she wanted wasn't in the top drawer, because she closed that one and moved to the middle. Bending over at the waist, she gave everyone in the room a view of her heart-shaped ass as her skirt tightened around it.
I couldn't believe this bitch. Even as the ice queen, she had no problem taunting men. I turned around, and saw all three men staring hungrily at her perky ass. I shook my head in disbelief.
Finally finding what she wanted, she took out the file and turned around. She frowned as she saw me still standing in front of her desk. Strutting back to her chair, she sat, crossing her legs in a way that somehow managed to show almost all of her thigh. She looked up at me, her green eyes flashing in anger. From my angle looking down at her, I could see down her blouse to the lacy bra beneath it. Her cleavage was flushed with anger.
"I told you to sit," She said sternly, pointing to the chairs behind me. "Obviously you have a problem following simple instructions, so I will speak slowly. Sit. Down."
Rage is a powerful emotion, so I took a deep breath. I didn't want to do anything in anger. I walked over to the nearest chair and sat, trying to calm down. How could someone that young be so stuck up? She couldn't have been more than twenty-three. I guess growing up that good looking had instilled a sense of entitlement, but you would think she could do her job without insulting and angering people.
After a minute, the anger hadn't gone away. It had sharpened, intensified to a knife's edge. She needed to learn a hard lesson, and I was the perfect one to give it to her.
Standing up, I walked back to her desk. She looked up and saw me approaching, and her eyes widened in fury.
"If you don't sit down this instant," she hissed, "I will call security and have you thrown out of the building!"
Bending down slightly so my hands rested on the top of her desk, I spoke softly so no one else would her. "
Touch yourself until you cum."
"How dare you! I will have you-," She began, but that was all the further her threat got as she suddenly looked down and saw her right hand furiously rubbing under her skirt.
"What did…how did...," she tried to ask, but confusion and the beginnings of desire disoriented her.
"You have a choice, miss, but not a very hard one," I told her quietly, still not wanting anyone to share this moment with us. Her eyes flickered between my face and her crotch. Anger still made my voice harsh. "You can stay in your seat, and have a mind blowing orgasm in front of me and all these other gentlemen; or you can quietly run over to the bathroom I saw in the hallway and finish in there. But you will cum, and soon." Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, but nothing came out.
Turning quickly, I returned to my seat. After a few moments I calmed down. Why was I letting her get to me? Sure, it's been a while since I haven't had people groveling at my feet, but you would have thought I would remember what it was like before I became Mr. Devereux. Remembering what I had become, I relaxed. Sure, this wasn't going as smoothly as I expected, but that is what happens when you meet new people.
Glancing over at the secretary, I saw her face flushed. Her hand was still working underneath the desk and small noises were coming out of her. She had completely given up on trying to work and she was looking around in desperation.
Finally the situation dawned on her. Quickly grabbing her purse with her left hand, she got up quickly and rushed out of the room, covering her crotch with the purse to hide the fact that her skirt was pushed up around her waist and her other hand was busy in her underwear. The other men looked around, confused.
I chuckled to myself. She might be hot, but she wasn't the smartest girl ever. I gave her another minute or two before getting up and slowly walking to the bathroom. I could hear sounds of pleasure faintly coming from inside. Slowly opening the door, I peeked in. Not seeing any other women, I slid in and quietly shut the door.
The bathroom was lavish, like the rest of Ms. Hill's floor. The tile was expensive and the faucets glittered and faux gold. They even had cloth towels, instead of a dryer or paper towels. I could hear grunts and moans coming from the last stall. She was close, but she was fighting it.
My shoes rang on the tile as I walked over to the stall she was in. I couldn't see her inside, because the stall had walls and a door all the way to the floor, but it was easy to guess which one she was in. She whined as she realized I was in the bathroom with her, but it was soon replaced again with groans of passion. I was about to order her to open the door when I realized in her haste she had never closed it. I smiled and slowly opened the door, locking it behind me.
She was sitting on the closed toilet, her legs spread with her expensive heals on the floor. Her skirt was hiked up and her right hand was in her black lacy panties, stroking furiously. Her left hand was in her blouse, kneading and massaging her breast.
She opened her eyes for a second and saw me standing over her, but before she could say anything she shut them again as she suddenly arched her back, throwing her pelvis forward and taking her ass cheeks off the toilet. Her mouth opened wide and she let out a wail that started low and finished high as the orgasm crashed over her. Squeezing her legs together, she humped her hand until her orgasm subsided. Then she relaxed and let her long legs fall open, an involuntary smile on her face.
After a few moments she realized where we she was, and more importantly, who was with her. Her eyes shot open and she quickly closed her legs, covering her panties with both her hands.
"Wha, what did you do to me?" she asked, nervously. Suddenly she started to get angry. "Get the fuck out of here before I have you thrown out of the building!" She yelled as she hiked her skirt back down.
"
Tell me your name,
