As he settled into the cramped, hard cot in the small laundry room, he thought, "What am I doing here? How did I get into this mess?"
He heard the loud, passionate groans of lust coming from the master bedroom, his former place of rest. He laid his head, with a sigh, on the worn, old pillow.
Trying hard to set aside the noises from upstairs, he attempted to settle into sleep. A familiar, intoxicating aroma filled his sense of smell. As he finished the laundry and before heading into the bedroom she handed him a well-used pair of her panties. The look on his face told the story.
She smiled as he thanked her, knowing how even the simplest gesture on her part was accepted as a great honor.
He stored the treasure underneath his pillow before finishing his chores. Now, he brought the blessed fabric to his nose and inhaled deeply.
"Oh yes, I remember."
It started a few months ago. He was at work. As the general manager of a small company he supervised around one-hundred and fifty employees. Success was his, in a limited way, but he wasn't totally satisfied.
There was something was missing in his life—an emptiness, an incompleteness. It was almost like there was a hole in his soul that he needed to fill before he could become complete.
As he wallowed in this search work became less satisfying and he daydreamed a lot about sexy, beautiful women. Thinking about their legs, the way they moved, their underwear, he filled the days imaging all kinds of various scenarios, usually involving spending long hours worshipping their bodies.
A man of a variety of needs, he had a plethora of different fantasies and as soon as one developed he jumped to another.
Although somewhat embarrassed about the obsession with his somewhat perverted desires he sluffed the guilt off by justifying the dreams because of a failed marriage to a woman who never understood his needs.
As he was between relationships, he hadn't had sex in a while, other than his nightly visits with his hand. And the worst thing about it was that he wasn't sure what kind of sex he wanted.
The situation, along with his life, changed suddenly and dramatically one day.
Business was flourishing and he discovered he needed a temp for extra clerical work. He had his secretary call a local employment agency and they quickly sent over a number of prospects. The first two, middle-aged ladies were both plump and matronly and he had a hard time even paying attention to waht they were saying.
The third girl immediately caught his eye. She was pretty, in that full-bodied, clear-eyed Salma Hayak way, with straight brown hair that reached just beyond her shoulders. She stood about five foot two and was a tad plump, almost like she still had a small layer of baby fat. But it looked good on her in an earthy way.
She was not overweight by any means; she was just sort of soft and full in the way the 50's actresses were, not skin and bones like so many women of today. She was gifted with luscious legs, a round ass and nice, pert breasts. Her skin was smooth and creamy. Her face was very attractive and just barely shy of out and out beautiful.
Belying her youth was a knowing, very perceptive smile and she had an ever-present, mischievous twinkle in her eye. Her smile, her eyes immediately seemed to pierce into his soul as if understanding some part of him completely.
"Now, Jennifer," he said tearing his eyes from her face, shuffling papers and pretending to review her resume. "What particular qualifications do you feel you have that would make you capable of handling this job?"
He tried to maintain his usual composure but he had a hard time keeping his eyes from drifting to her legs. Sitting directly in front of his desk, she was just far enough away so he could see her completely. Because she was young and probably not wealthy, her attire was less than business-like, wearing a short, plain sun dress, made of thin and cheap cloth. It gave her an appearance of being almost unprofessional, looking more like Sophie Loren in some Italian peasant movie.
His eyes kept flitting back and forth from the paperwork to those legs. The dress rode halfway up her bare thighs. He was struck by the careless manner in which she came to an interview with a noticeable lack of nylons, almost like she was defying conventional wisdom and daring him to hire her despite her lack of professionalism.
As he watched, she spread her legs ever so slightly, in an innocent, yet provocative way. She didnt even sit the way women are taught!
The luscious gams rested on the chair and he could see how soft, creamy and delicious they were. Unconsciously his tongue left his mouth and licked his upper lip. Hearing a soft chuckle he glanced at her face. The all-knowing smile and mischievous twinkle in her eyes made him blush in embarrassment.
Those legs, he whispered to himself, how I would love to feel them, caress them, even lick them. He reddened a little as he saw she was watching him carefully.
"Well, Mr. Sullivan," she said with a twinkle in her eye and a knowing smile, "I catch on very quickly. I see the situation and immediately know how to handle it."
He studied her face, checking for any hidden meanings in her words. She returned the stare, her deep brown eyes totally captivating, almost entrancing. They lured him into their depths but didn't reveal anything.
He wasn't quite sure what her answer meant. Confused, he knew there was something about her manner, her presence, and her earthy essence that seemed to give her an advantage over him. It was almost as though she was some ancient goddess, a high priestess of some ancient kingdom, worthy of worship.
Reviewing her resume, he was aware she had very limited experience and not much education but in spite of her youth he somehow felt intimidated by her, an unusual yet exciting feeling for him. He sensed she knew a lot more than he did, especially about the ways between men and women.
Not wanting the interview to end, he stumbled for a few more minutes in a very unprofessional, clumsy way. His normally confident manner deserted him and he had difficulty asking intelligent questions. He could not focus on the process; all he could do was peek occasionally and surreptitiously at her luscious legs, wondering if she wore plain cotton panties.
Finally he made a rash and hasty decision, one based on primal needs separate and apart from her work experience or what they needed for this job.
"You seem qualified for the position. When can you start? We need someone right away. Actually, we would like you to begin tomorrow," he said rushing his words and annoyed at himself with his inability to remain calm.
"I can't start tomorrow I need a few days to settle some things." She seemed to be in the drivers seat here. "How's Friday?"
He was shocked. Usually, prospective employees do whatever it takes to get the job. The way she responded felt like she was in control of the interview.
Nodding a silent agreement, he watched as she smiled sweetly. There was a knowing look in her eyes as she surveyed him one last time. Rising from her chair, she gave him one last little grin, turned and left.
He studied her casual, sensual sway as she walked from the room. Her bare legs, her round, full rear filled his senses with a desire he had seldom known. His heart, as well as his groin, ached for her with a conviction he had never felt.
Turning at the door as if knowing he would be watching her, she caught his eyes studying her gorgeous ass. Reddening, he tore his eyes from her posterior to her face. Her grin let him know that she knew where he was looking and what he was looking at.
The week while he waited was intolerable. Frustrated, he buried himself in work, impatient for Friday to arrive.
On Friday morning he arrived hours early but was unable to concentrate on anything and found himself quite annoyed with everyone. Angrily, he told himself to forget about her and focus on work, but he kept checking the clock and waiting for the moment she arrived. He was acting like an awestruck teenager mooning over some unattainable movie star.
During the day, he tried his best to stay away from her, not wanting to succumb to the need he felt to see her again. It would be easy to avoid her as her workstation placed her on the floor beneath his, in a room he normally didn't visit.
But she remained in his thoughts as he tried to finish a project. Just as he immersed himself in the final details, she entered his office. Without a knock, she walked right in.
"I've got your mail," she said with a cat-like grin.
Caught off-guard, he stared mouth agape, captivated by her, wondering if she knew he was just then thinking of her.
He found himself in an unusual position. He was totally dumbstruck and couldn't think of a thing to say to her.
"Where do you want it?" she asked, gliding over to his desk and simply dropping the pile on one side of it.
Standing to the side of him, she leaned over the desk, resting her elbows on the top, examining the papers he had in front of him. From the corner of his eye he glimpsed the outline of her perfect, pert breasts. They were hidden behind her simple white blouse, inches from his face and he desperately wanted to lean over and fill his mouth with them, kissing and licking avidly. He noticed that the globes were not exceptionally large but they were firm and ripe and seemed perfectly suited to her earthy figure.
"Whatcha doing? Something important?" she asked as she chewed gum in his ear like a teenager. She studied his reaction as his eyes moved slowly up from her breasts to meet hers. He reddened as if caught doing something he shouldn't.
Feeling the heat of her nearness, he breathed in the subtle scent of the soap she used this morning. He stared blankly into her eyes as if hypnotized by some magic spell she cast. Smiling at his embarrassed face for a moment, in total control of the situation, she turned and walked out.
His dry mouth gaping, he stared at her round, soft buttocks as they gracefully strutted out, whispering secret wishes to himself about needing to become familiar with that object.
She didn't look back this time, as if she was sure that he was watching and didn't need to confirm it. He kept staring at the empty doorframe long after she disappeared like a dog would wait all day at the door for his master to come home.
Needless to say, he was useless the balance of the afternoon. Her seemingly innocent interruption had destroyed all pretense of normality for him. Acknowledging the hold she had over him, he felt himself charged with a strange and erotic tension as he sat daydreaming at his desk.
More than once he wanted to relieve his aching turgid member, with a need he had never felt before. He sat frustrated, yet entranced, and completely under her spell.
There was no doubt the young beauty intoxicated him. She awakened some buried urge he had deep within him. It was as though she was some primitive goddess he had to submit to, obey and worship. He couldn't explain the reason why she held this power over him; he didn't even want to understand it.
He just wanted her, in any way she required.
On Monday, after a restless and frustrating weekend, he made an excuse to go down to the sample room where she worked.
He didn't need a reason; he told himself, after all, he was the boss. He could check up on any employee whenever he wanted, that was his right. For some reason he felt he had to justify this decision to himself.
She was alone in the room, sitting on a stool eating a donut. Her short skirt rose to midway up her thigh. The softness of those smooth, luscious thighs spread against the lip of the seat. His eyes riveted on them and lust filled his senses. Her legs were parted provocatively, just an inch or so. They were just far enough open to be exciting yet not quite far apart to seem indecent.
There was something especially alluring about her earthy body, her lack of nylons, and her casual, revealing dress. She was sexy in an Italian peasant sort of way. Nylons would never be needed on her exquisite legs. They would enhance them but her legs were enough by themselves. The smooth softness, the hidden treasures that lay above and between, all added an arousing picture of sensuality.
"Oh, you caught me," she giggled. He said something about it not being a problem and moved closer to chat. Her feet rested on the rung of the stool, which caused her short dress to ride up almost to her crotch. He stood in front of her trying hard not to stare down at her luscious gams.
There was a definite hardening in his pants and the friction of his member brushed against the rough fabric. He lowered the paperwork he was carrying to cover the small tent so she could not witness his obvious arousal.
"I have such a sweet tooth. I made my last boss buy me candy all the time. Do you know any good candy stores around here?" She looked at him like a cobra eyes a mouse. Her arm accidentally brushed against some papers and they spilled to the floor. Without thinking, he quickly knelt down to recover them.
Realizing his position, he found himself inches from her legs. Her shoe was directly in front of his face. It appeared inexpensive and well worn, not the fancy, expensive kind in his dreams, yet somehow it's casualness added to her bearing.
He inhaled silently but deeply, attempting to memorize the sweet scent of her odor. His face flushed as the aroma drifted in and he had trouble breathing.
He hardly moved, the papers long forgotten. He was aware that he could touch her leg with his mouth just by leaning forward. He felt his face being drawn forward, perhaps toward a fate that would bind him forever to her. He wanted this future. Her foot silently beckoned him. Time seemed suspended as he awaited his destiny.
"Well, you're finally where you belong. That didn't take long. I thought you would be easy but I didnt think it would be so simple." Her words temporarily broke the spell. He looked up at her, pausing momentarily to glance at her crotch, spotting the white fabric hidden there.
Something glowed deep inside him and he felt being here on the floor beneath her and beside her magnetic legs was the most appropriate place for him. He peeked at her face. It was blank with no apparent hidden meaning behind the words she spoke so calmly. Or so it seemed.
He wanted desperately to remain kneeling at her feet, where he was, and lean forward that final inch towards her foot, and complete the journey. He wanted to place his lips against her toe, lick the shoe, and savor the softness of her skin.
He loved the feeling of being on his knees before her—this feeling of absolute submission. She sat there like a queen and observed him like he was some kind of laboratory experiment.
Finally, mustering some reluctant pride he picked up the papers, set them on the table, looked longingly at her and left.
At home that night, he furiously relieved his pent up emotions in the shower, spewing his seed against the wall as he pictured her towering over him as he looked up at her legs from his lowly position on the floor. He didn't understand why this image was so strong and so erotic. He didn't care.
He tossed and turned all night as he tried to make sense out of the situation but couldn't. His dreams were filled with visions of her legs, her feet, and her wicked smile. He woke with a fullness in his groins and an ache in his soul that he had never felt before.
He avoided her the next day, staying behind his closed door, afraid of this passion, terrified of her power. The following day, he succumbed to his overwhelming urges and sought her out.
He waited until he knew she was alone and snuck down to see her.
Once again she was sitting on the stool with her voluptuous legs on display. He hesitated as he watched her. He felt something in himself surrendering to her beauty, acknowledging some basic superiority she had over him.
He thought she knew he was in the doorway but she went about her work as if she didn't. He took the time to worship her with his eyes. He was filled with desire. Somehow he knew he would do anything for her, to be with her. And with that knowledge, he also sensed that he would be tested again and again on that vow.
Never before had he wanted to capitulate to a woman, become her servant, a slave to her every desire. He did now. He wanted to throw himself at her feet and beg for the privilege of touching her, to be allowed to clean her shoe with his tongue—to give her everything.
"What are you hiding behind your back?" she asked coyly without even glancing up. Quickly he went to her and handed her a box of expensive candy.
She jumped up and squealed as she took the box. Her hand accidentally brushed against his arm. He became so aroused by that simple gesture that he had to leave before coming in his pants. He heard her chuckle softly as he scurried out of the room.
He shut the door of his office and battled with himself for control. He was losing himself to this simple beauty, he was surrendering his pride, his manhood, his very self to her and he wasn't even sure if she knew of his infatuation. Or cared.
The fight with his conscience waged on as he debated all of the reasons why he should just leave her alone. She was too young. She may not even like him. What he was considering sacrificing for her was too much.
On the other side he relived the feel of her touch. He saw her gorgeous thighs and wondered what delicious warmth lay between them. He wondered what she would taste like, her legs, what lay between.
His unanswered questions still haunted him and he did not come to any conclusions when he returned to see her an hour later.
This time she was bent over the table as he entered. He gasped at the sumptuous, voluptuousness of her sensual ass and he felt a flash of carnal lust. He froze as he stared; the only movement of his body was in his pants.
Her perfectly rounded curves jutted out towards him and he felt a masochistic streak of need soar through him. His tongue caressed his upper lip, as he was lost in the vision. If only he could lavish this sensuous ass with soft kisses.
She must of known he was there yet she kept bent there in that perfect pose. The questions of before, whether he should yield to her sexuality or forget her were answered in that moment, with that vision seared in his mind.
He knew beyond doubt that he would do anything for her.
Another employee, an older woman, entered and interrupted his reverie. He jumped back like a guilty child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The older woman frowned in obvious disapproval, as she took in the situation. Jennifer glanced up without moving and smiled at his embarrassment.
He brought her candy every day. She granted him only a few minutes conversation when he handed the gifts over and then sent him on his way.
One day while he handed her a box of candy, she groaned in annoyance.
"Are you all right? What's the matter? Aren't you feeling well?" he asked very concerned.
"It's my feet. Standing on them all day makes them hurt." She watched him carefully. "Do you give massages?" Her eyes twinkled.
"Not usually. But I guess I could," he answered rather cautiously.
"Oh, goody. Go ahead." She kicked one foot out and rotated it slowly. The movement mesmerized his eyes. This was a big step. They both knew it.
He eased to his knees on the floor and gently removed her shoe. Like everyday, she didn't wear nylons and the feel of her soft skin was exquisitely arousing. His nostrils were filled with her delicious scent. She commented about the smell but he couldn't concentrate enough on her words to understand what she was saying. The aroma drifted through his brain like a potent aphrodisiac, numbing all common sense and turning him into a willing slave.