Who Is in Control?

I met Christine on a Thursday. It was near the end of a long day of interviewing people for a job in “premium sales” at my firm. I had already interviewed five candidates from the country’s top universities. Christine was my last interview. HR told me she was very aggressive, which I surmised had got her this far against very stiff competition. Her resume was ok, but just didn’t match up against the others.

She was aggressive alright. I actually noticed her walking in to interview with Mary at around 3pm. She was a brunette with flowing hair and a purposeful, long stride. She gave Mary’s assistant a little smirk as she walked by. Mary was the junior person on the team. After Mary, she was going to interview with me and then my boss. I’d only been working there two years myself, but as his right-hand man, I had his confidence. I would decide who got the job.

A little before 4pm, my assistant rang to say Christine was waiting. I let her wait before going out to greet her. First thing, I noticed she had deep blue eyes. She was probably 5’11” in heels. She had an elegant and professional look, with a long skirt and jacket. I thanked my assistant; Christine ignored her. We entered the office and I closed the door behind us.

That’s where the aggressive Christine came out. First, she pulled her chair up to my desk and seemed to claim half for herself by spreading her notebook across it. I mean, she actually moved my phone to make room for her stuff! I started with a few softball questions. She turned every question into a pitch for why we should hire her, almost ignoring the question I had asked in the first place. Soon she was cutting me off before I could finish my questions. The more she steered the conversation, the more she leaned in, and the more she talked like she already had the job.

This quickly grew annoying so I asked a few tougher questions about her lack of experience, bad grades, etc. Suddenly she was on the defensive. Her eyes began searching the walls for answers. I admitted to myself that it felt good, just a little, to zing her like that. While she fumbled around one particularly tough question, my assistant rang in. While she told me the news, I watched Christine gather herself to make her case again.

“Well, Christine.” I told her. “It turns out my boss has to leave early today so if you can come back tomorrow he’ll see you then. And we’re at the end of our time as well…”

I’d had enough of her.

“Oh, uh…”

“Thanks for coming in...” I said, knowing there was no way she was getting this job. Could she tell? I wondered.

“Bob, would you have a moment to give me some feedback…” Feedback as in ‘do I get the job?’ Who was she kidding?

“Christine, first you should finish your interviews and then we’ll be in touch…”

“Yes, but…” she stammered a little

“You’ll be meeting my boss tomorrow. He’s the big decision-maker, really…” Ok, that wasn’t true but I was just trying to get rid of her.

“Bob, I need…”

“Christine! I have a lot to do before I leave…”

“Yes, but…” her look turned suggestive, “I can meet you after work…” Was she suggesting what I thought she was suggesting?

“What for, Christine?” I had to make sure.

She paused and then “We could talk in private.” Again with that tone!

No wonder she got this far in the interviews, I thought to myself. My rational side said to avoid this person at all costs. But I guess something else took over…

“Ok, Christine, meet me at D’Augustine restaurant, two blocks down, at 6pm.”

Christine was already at D’Augustine’s when I arrived a little past 6pm. She was still in her blue interview suit. As I walked up, I realized she was in heated discussion with the hostess. She stopped when she saw me approaching. Our frustrated-looking hostess walked us to our booth, dropped menus on our table and walked away without a word. It was a booth in the back. A nice isolated spot in a dark ambiance restaurant. I noticed those long legs again. And as she sat, I noticed a little hint of her ass push out from under her jacket.

Our waitress brought us water and we ordered drinks. Christine jumped right to the topic: her employment. She began by offering new answers to the questions she had flubbed back in the office.

“Christine, the interview is over. Why…”

“Bob, I just want to clarify…”

“Look Christine, you’re going to meet my boss tomorrow, so I can offer some advice but that’s it.”

She looked frustrated for a moment.

“Bob, Mary told me that you’re the real decision-maker! I need to know that you are going to recommend me.”

She caught me by surprise with that. I reminded myself I needed to teach Mary to be less forthcoming with such things.

“Christine, five other highly qualified candidates want the same assurance.”

“But I need to know that you’re going to recommend me. What can I do to…”

Her voice began to rise. I didn’t like that.

“Christine, I think I’m going to go. This is useless…” and I began to gather my things.

Christine panicked.

“Wait, Bob..” her voice moderated, “just let me explain…” After a moment of consideration, I stopped gathering my things and settled back in.

Right about then, our waitress stopped by with our drinks and to get our order. Christine snapped at her to go away until she called her! I gave our waitress a look as if to say “don’t react, just come back later and everything will be fine.” The waitress acknowledged my message and walked away shaking her head in disgust.

“Bob, why don’t we talk about this…” she said, suggestively.

I felt her foot brush up against my leg. I grabbed my things again.

“Christine, you just made a big mistake…” I was turning to get out of the booth. She really panicked this time.

“Wait, Bob, please…”

I paused.

“Bob, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. It’s just…” and then she went on to tell me how she wasn’t finding a job, and how she was desperate for this job, her dream job.

“Well, Christine, you have a lot of learning to do before you’re ready for a job like this…”

I meant it to end the conversation, but she really was desperate.

“Please, Bob, tell me what I can do to learn, I’ll do anything…” and then she emphasized again “anything!”

While she talked, I settled back into the booth, and I remembered the feeling of her foot brushing my leg, and that tight little ass that had teased me earlier. She looked athletic. I imagined she must work out several times per week. I visualized her jogging or in an aerobics class dripping with sweat… I imagined myself running my hands over her dripping body... I snapped back to attention...

“Christine, your problem is interpersonal skills. You antagonize everyone. Do you know that?”

“No, what do you mean?” As if she didn’t know…

“Christine, I don’t have time to play games…”

Again I reached for my things.

“Wait, Bob… ok, yes, I do.”

“Well, that disqualifies you for this job Christine…”

“But I can get better, really I can. Just give me a chance!”

My mind raced with ideas of what to say next. Her sweet voice was turning me on.

“You need to be willing to fix things when they go wrong, Christine.”

She paused. “What do you mean?”

“Christine, do you think you treated the hostess with courtesy earlier?”

Again, she paused.

“No, I didn’t.” She looked down for a moment and then back up.

“Let’s fix that. I think you should go apologize to her, Christine.”

“What??? You want me to go apologize to her???”

I loved her reaction, and I loved being in control!

“Christine, in three seconds one of us is getting up from our seats. If it’s me, I’m out the door. Apologize to her NOW! One…”

Her mouth dropped open. She started say something, but the count had started…

“two…”

A look of exasperation came over her and she jumped up from the booth. I turned to watch her walk to the hostess. Beautiful long legs, a little wiggle of her ass just under her jacket as she hurried over.

The hostess was not happy to see her again! I watched her say something to the hostess, who then looked at me. I gave a little nod, and then the hostess turned back to Christine and said something. Christine continued talking to her. Christine’s hands waved around apologetically. The hostess finally nodded and said something, and then Christine turned to walk back.

I quickly turned back in my booth seat as though I’d seen nothing. As she walked back, I could see every step she took in my mind. I felt a rush of excitement. I realized at that moment that I really loved being in control of sexy Christine.

She sat back down. Her face was flush red and she could not look at me. I told her to take her jacket off and relax. She did so with her mind still on her encounter with the hostess. She was wearing a light white blouse. I could see her breasts were tight. I imagined myself jumping across the table and ripping open her blouse and bra…

I asked her how it had gone with the hostess. She didn’t answer. I could see how humiliated she felt. I asked again. She answered softly “fine.”

We sat in silence for minutes. Our waitress started in our direction, but Christine shot her a look and the waitress turned back. Christine did not think I noticed.

“Christine, you just don’t get it!” I said in frustration.

She knew she was in trouble.

“Wait, I’m sorry…”

“Christine, now we need to fix your relationship with our waitress.”

She pouted with frustration.

“Ok, OK! I’ll go apologize!!” and she turned to get up again.

“Wait! You’ll apologize, Christine. But first you need to pay a penalty for what you just did. Maybe that’ll get through to you!”

“What do you mean pay a penalty?” She looked worried.

I paused, again brainstorming. I was out of control with desire for her inside, but outside I looked unfazed.

“Christine, you have lost the privilege of wearing panties…”

I pushed forward an empty appetizer plate.

“Let’s see them!”

What had got into me???

Christine was in shock. “You want me to take my panties off and put them on that plate???” Her voice began to shake.

I nodded. In my mind, all kinds of scenarios played out. What would I do if she said no? If she agreed? If she screamed?

“I’m not going to do that, Bob!”

I had thought through this scenario.

“Ok, Christine. Nice to meet you!” And I reached for my things again.

Her eyes began to well up. “Please, no…wait, please!”

I felt the rush of control coming back to me.

“Christine, you have to the count of ten… One… two… “

At “three!” her hands dove below the table. While she wiggled around down there, her eyes scanned the room desperate for no one to see her undressing. Her breathing accelerated so much that little grunts escaped her mouth.

At “eight” she finished wiggling and held her panties below the table. At “nine” she looked down at the plate and then rushed her panties into position. At “ten!” she pulled her hands away.

Her eyes furiously scanned the room with fear that someone might see the show.

A rush came over me as we sat there, in a public restaurant with Christine’s white panties sitting on a plate between us. I imagined how Christine felt at that moment. A rush of cool air kissing her pussy. The desperate fear that someone would see her in this position. I stared at her panties with muted delight.

That’s when something amazing happened. An aroma. The aroma of her panties was drifting up and filling the booth. It was an amazing smell. A scent that recounted her torturous day: a long commute into the city, perspiration from a long and stressful day of interviews, and, best of all, the unmistakable aroma of an excited pussy!

It reached us both simultaneously. Still scanning the room, her eyes turned back to mine as she realized what was happening, and then they shot down to her panties. She was mortified! She could not form words at that moment. I breathed it in slowly. My mind raced with what I wanted to do to her pussy. I imagined experiencing the same smell as I spread her legs open and rammed my cock into her cunt. I had to gather myself…

“I think you’re starting to learn, Christine! I think this may work out! Let’s see if you are learning. I’m going to call over the waitress now. You have two choices: I can put these panties away for you and you will apologize, or you can explain to her why your panties are on the table. Which do you choose, Christine?”

Before she could answer, I motioned to the waitress.

“Ten seconds, Christine!”

“I’ll apologize! I’ll apologize!” She yelped.

I smiled. When our waitress was three tables away, I reached out and took the panties. I was still putting them away in my briefcase when our waitress walked up. Christine regained her composure while I turned to our waitress.

“Hi again…”

She was a cute girl in her own right. She introduced herself as Jane.

“Jane, this is Christine. She has something to say to you before we order. Christine?”

Christine was still regaining her composure. After a moment, she fell all over herself apologizing to Jane. Our waitress wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Myself, I was out of control at this point. I was feeling a rush unlike anything I’d felt before.

I looked at our waitress. “Jane, I can tell you’re not satisfied. Are you?”

Jane looked at me and understood she should say no.

“Not really. This person was really rude to me.”

Christine watched this exchange with growing nervousness.

“Let’s see what else Christine can do to fix this. Christine, let’s see your purse!” Christine reluctantly handed it to me. I opened it up.

“Ten dollars? That’s all you have, Christine?”

I’d forgotten she must be on a tight budget since she was still in school.

“Ten isn’t enough, is it Jane?”

Jane went along. “No, well, it’s a start I guess.”

Jane seemed to be enjoying this more than I would have expected. Again I brainstormed.

“I have an idea.” I suggested. “You two are about the same size. How about a fancy bra as a token of apology from Christine?”

Christine whispered “what..?”

Jane turned and looked condescendingly at Christine. “Yes, I’d like that.”

Christine looked at me beggingly, but I gave her a warning look.

“Great! Ok, Christine. Let’s see your bra!”

Christine searched for a way out of this, calculating whether to walk away and give up on her dream job. She realized she could not. I knew this by now. Christine’s face flushed as she began to fidget around to get the bra removed. Jane and I looked on in amusement. Christine tried to shield her breasts from view as she removed her white bra and handed it to Jane. Jane held onto Christine’s hand an extra second as the hand off occurred. Jane seemed turned on by this! She took over.

“Such a nice bra. Where did you get it, Christine?” Jane asked her.

Christine’s voice was low, and she looked away. “Victoria’s Secret”

I pressed on. “Jane, I wonder if Christine is wearing matching panties. Do you?”

Christine shot me a look of desperation and anger.

“Are you wearing matching panties, Christine?” Jane asked.

Christine sat silent. I asked again. Christine’s lips quivered and she looked away as she finally answered. “No.”

“Wait. What kind of panties are you wearing, Christine?” I pressed on.

She seemed to resign herself to her situation.

Her eyes teared up again despite her best effort to avoid it. “I’m not wearing any!”

Even Jane had to steady herself after that. I waited a couple of seconds and then proceeded.

“Jane, I don’t believe that, and I can tell you don’t believe that. Only a slut would come to this restaurant without panties. Christine, are you sure you’re not wearing panties?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Christine looked at me as if to say ‘there, are you happy?’ I wasn’t.

“Christine, stand up and let Jane see for herself that you’re telling the truth.”

Christine stood back up, probably expecting a quick pat-down. But Jane looked like she wanted to jump Christine on the spot. She reached down and took hold of the lower edge of Christine’s skirt. Christine flinched uncomfortably. When Jane had exposed Christine’s legs all the way up to the bottom of her ass, Jane began to run her hands up the back of Christine’s legs, under the skirt and over her ass. Christine looked around desperate for no one to notice as Jane exacted revenge. Slowly, she then moved around to her pussy. It was an unforgettable moment. I watched in amazement as Christine’s body reacted to being touched by another woman.

Jane finished with a little pat on Christine’s ass. I told her we would skip dinner and were ready for our check. Christine sat back down, stunned at how she’d found herself in such a predicament. I told Christine it was time to go back to the office. Christine seemed to snap out of her state with those words. There was a light at the end of the tunnel!

As we went up the elevator to the 29th floor, I finalized my plan for the office. The casual observer could not tell she not wearing panties or a bra. I imagined while walking back to the office she must have felt the cool evening air in places she wasn’t accustomed to. It was quite late in the evening by then. Christine and I walked into an empty office building.

“Congratulations, Christine. You’re almost there! One last test to pass!”

Christine readied herself for what was ahead.

“Here are the rules. Christine, I’m going to ask you questions as we walk to my office. For each question you get wrong, you’ll have to remove an article of clothing. If you make it to the office with some form of clothing still on you, the job is yours.”

“But…”

“Do you want this job, Christine?”

“Yes, Bob!”

“Christine, do you really want this job???”

“Yes, please, Bob I do!!!”

“Then we start!” I began a slow walk.

I asked her an impossibly difficult question to start. She got it wrong. She followed directions and removed her jacket.

I asked another tough question. Another wrong answer followed. I told her to remove her shoes, hose included. We were one-fifth of the way there and Chistine was wearing only a blouse and skirt! She looked discouraged.

I stopped walking at that point. I looked her up and down. Barefoot, tight ass exposed without a jacket to cover up, breasts pushing against her blouse, she was irresistible. I wanted us to fuck right there on the floor!

I told her to gather herself and not give up. She seemed to gain strength from the realization that I might be on her side after all.

I asked two easy questions and she grew confident again. We were five offices away. I stopped and asked the next question.

She concentrated a few seconds and then offered her answer:

“Profit margin?”

I paused.

“Correct!”

Three in a row! Four offices away, I asked another question. She looked less certain this time.

“Market segmentation?”

I broke the news with a single word:

“Wrong!”

It was time for her blouse to come off. I was dizzy with anticipation! She offered one last bit of defiance by hesitating before I raised an eyebrow. Her hands began shaking as she went to work on unbuttoning the blouse. The top button. The one below. She had beautiful skin. And then her blouse opened in the front. She turned slightly as she removed her blouse and then held it up in front of her to hide her breasts.

I told her to hand it to me. She crossed her arms for a moment trying to hide her breasts. She had a tight stomach. Looking at her crossed arms, I told her not to play games. Her arms unlocked and fell to her sides. Her beautiful breasts were tighter than I’d expected. She seemed to accept her vulnerability at that moment. She had no choice but to follow.

As we walked, I watched her breasts bounce slightly with each step. I wanted to jump her right there at that moment. But we were still three offices away. I asked another question.

“Balanced scorecard?” she answered. Her eyes pleaded for it to be a correct answer.