The 18th Floor Ch. 01

People often accused him of having some sort of stratagem in mind when he selected the office across from the front desk as his own. It was true: he had an excellent view of what did and didn't go on at the receptionist's area. He had watched girls come and go: hair shellacked and nails perfect, their towering heels clacking menacingly across the linoleum floor and their smiles pristine and white. He had often been tempted to take them under his wing, as it were, congratulating them on their inflated sense of selves, but informing them that the only single man on this side of the building was Bobby Hammel in marketing who, at thirty-four, was still living with his mother and apt to make any girl naïve enough to marry him an absolute wreck. Still, they amused him and provided small, brief distractions throughout the day.

But this one really was a specimen.

She had practically materialised in the office. He had yet to determine who had hired her and no one kept secrets from Hal Steadman around here. She looked more like a school teacher than the secretary she was, with ever-rumpled hair and the dark glasses on her nose. Her skirts were just this side of too short, her necklines an inch away from too deep, but these things occurred almost without her knowledge. A curvy little thing, she was sharp of tongue and quick of wit, but she managed to keep this behind a veil of feigned idiocy that only he seemed to see through. She was clever, and--even better--clever enough to hide it. It was not long before he took more than a casual interest in her.

For her part, Beverly seemed to notice his attention in a way the other girls had not. She preened at her desk on rare occasions, painting on new lipstick with a compact mirror at the perfect angle. Throughout the day her legs crossed and uncrossed, tantalizing him with peeks of soft, pale thigh when her skirt rode up. More often than not, her shoes sided toward sensible and this pleased him somehow. She never faltered in her step. The clicking of her heels was poised, determined, unwavering. Sometimes--not often--he would catch her watching him from the corner of his eye. She would stare off at the wide couch he had planted in his office for those nights he had spent there, a small smile creeping toward the corners of her mouth, then see those wide, green eyes flick toward him. He pretended not to notice, for he knew it was a game. And when the time came for him to wander to her desk for some job-related request, she averted her eyes from his searching look and smiled softly as he stared.

If ever he were to try her out, now would be the time.

He lounged at his desk most of the morning, a slight smile on his face and making no effort to conceal his spying. She was poised at her typewriter most of the day, her hair up and back, exposing every inch of her lovely neck and face. Today was not uncommon in that he could hear his mother tisking in the back of his mind whenever she stood, her thin dress coming barely to the middle of her thighs. But it did appear to him that the journey of her right leg over her left seemed to pause a moment too long somewhere in the middle. And when she got up to check the coffee pot or take a file to Ed down the hall, the summer sun peeking through the window suggested certain articles had been lost on her trip downtown this morning. His gaze followed her as she rose from her seat yet again, beginning to pass by his open office door.

'Ms. Pine?' She stopped and turned around, peeking in his door, her smile radiant. 'When you have a moment.'

'Certainly, Mr. Steadman.' She continued her trek down the hall and his smile grew when he heard her returning. She stepped inside his office.

'Close the door.' She did so. He gestured to the chair across from his and felt a certain tightness as she smoothed the back of her skirt to sit down. She crossed her legs. He took a breath and studied her over the rim of his glasses.

'Ms. Pine.'

'Yes, sir?'

'You're looking well.'

'Thank you, sir.'

'Getting along here alright?'

'Oh, yes. It's very nice.'

'I'm glad to hear it. You've been here for, what? A month now?'

'Three weeks, sir.'

'Time certainly does fly.'

'Was there something you needed, sir?'

He often found himself thinking that Ed and Harry had it wrong when they said the girls were out of the loop on things, that they didn't pay attention or know what the men were thinking. This was one of those moments. And what he had assumed for some time now was definitely true: there was nothing dumb about this girl.

'I've been meaning to discuss something with you, Ms. Pine.' She leaned forward attentively, the collar of her dress lowering as if on command. Not dumb at all. 'You've made quite an impression on many of us here.'

'I hope that's a good thing, Mr. Steadman.'

'You won't hear me complain, nor anyone else so far as I know. However, there have been some concerns from particularly the other girls about your attire. I wonder if it is...shall we say, regulation?'

'I have tried to focus on dressing professionally. Would you like me to change, sir?'

'It is not so much what you have on now, Ms. Pine, though I'm certain that is causing a bit of a scandal at the water cooler. I don't mind it in the least. No, what *I* have noticed to be of particular distraction is more what you perhaps *don't* have on.' She ducked her head so he wouldn't see her grinning and tucked her hair behind her ear. He watched her fingers as they ran down her neck. 'Pardon my inquisitiveness, Ms. Pine, but we do furnish you with enough salary that you may purchase undergarments, do we not?'

'My salary is quite adequate, Mr. Steadman.'

'Ah.' He leaned back, caught her gaze with a studying eye. 'Would it be presumptuous, I wonder, to think that this oversight on your part might be intentional to some degree?'

'I'm sure there's a healthy argument in that, sir.'

'And would it be further presumptuous to wonder that, due to the proximity of your desk to mine and the general flight plan of most of your activities within these stately walls, the individual you are hoping to benefit might, in fact, be me?'

'Logic would dictate that such things are quite possible, sir.'

'I see. Close the blinds, would you? There's a dear.' He took a moment to lean back and enjoy the impossible rise of her skirt as she stretched to complete this task. 'You may have noticed,' he continued, his tone conversational as he stood and removed his suit jacket, 'that I have a sofa in this office. I often find that I can better complete my work if I take a few moments in the middle of the day to relax and remove myself from whatever projects might be going on. I learned the trick while studying in Barcelona in '56. They call it a "siesta" over there.'

'I can see the benefits of such a habit, sir.' She turned back to him. She eased toward him in the diminished light and he drank her in as he removed his cufflinks. 'And when do you usually take this siesta?'

'That's what made me think of it, my dear: right about now.' Her arms wrapped around his neck and she kissed him deeply, standing up on her tiptoes to reach his mouth. He held her around her slender waist, rubbed his arms up her sides to feel her delicate ribs and teased along her breasts just a moment before pulling her into him, pinning her at the small of her back. She could feel his heat even through the wool of his trousers and she rubbed against it in her flimsy dress. Then she pulled away from the kiss, slid her spectacles up onto her head, smiling as she did so.

'I'm getting the impression that you wouldn't mind having company for this particular nap.'

'I'm disappointed, Ms. Pine. You ought to be getting the impression that I don't intend to nap at all.'

Her mouth returned to his and he reached up to tug off her glasses and set them on his desk, never leaving the warm pink lips and searching tongue. He led them toward the wall, scooping her up and laying her down on the wide leather couch. He climbed on top of her then, felt her body arch toward him, begging to be nearer--always nearer--to him. He broke from her lips to pull off his own glasses and instantly felt the scramble of her hands on his vest. He laughed just a little and tilted her chin up toward his face, kissing her again, harder this time. His hand slid again down her side and up under her skirt, fingers searching and finding her bare: wet and puffy from earlier exposure.

'Oh, my...' he crooned. 'I don't believe you've been concentrating on your work today, Ms. Pine.' She laughed, low and sultry, moaning as his hand continued to caress, hips pushing closer when his fingers teased swollen lips. 'Not on your work, at least.' His fingers slid into her, her muscles tensing around and binding him at the second knuckle as she gasped. 'But that is *very* nice. Very nice indeed.'

Her tongue darted out, quenching dried lips. 'Mr. Steadman,' she whispered, and he thrilled at the panting at the edge of her voice. 'I believe you have done this before.'

'Done what, my dear? Molested my secretaries?' He had shifted and was teasing the soft, secret flesh of her inner thigh with his tongue. He paused to look her in the eyes. 'That may be true, Ms. Pine. But I assure you--' And then he ducked down again, lavishing in her taste and heat, his cock straining at the volume of her cry and the inevitable respect it would bring him from his co-workers. 'I have never enjoyed it quite this much.'

'Don't stop.' All semblance of the game was gone from her voice: only lust and need remained and he could not help but to follow her request. He took his time with her, studying the contours of her flesh with his tongue as he would a work of art. Here, the pink skin tapered into a darker rose. The salty-sweet, almost peppery taste of her arousal danced across his tongue and down his throat. He soaked in the strain at the edge of her murmured pleasure as she held back the urge to shriek and scream and beg. Later, he knew, his thoughts would turn to this moment and he had every intention of recalling it with the kind of minutia that would flood his every sense. He slid his hands under her ass and pulled her closer, causing a small shriek to fall from the girl. He growled and buried his face between her legs. Her laugh was throaty and she teased her fingers over the crest of his ear. 'Mr. Steadman,' she cooed, 'You seem to be enjoying yourself quite a bit.'

He took another long, lavish journey along her with his tongue before looking up at her, licking his lips. 'Pardon the crudity, Ms. Pine, but I must say I adore fine dining.' She laughed loudly, dissolving into giggles and small snorts after her initial outburst. Her cheeks turned red. 'You're especially lovely when you blush.'

'I'm sorry, that was...crass. And embarrassing.'

'There's no need for embarrassment.' He locked her eyes with his and ran his tongue along her thigh. She shuddered. 'I think it's safe to assume that I don't mind your eccentricities.'

She grabbed him by his tie and pulled him up, her smile crooked and devilish. She kissed him, deep and sudden, tasting herself on his lips and tongue, a small, amorous noise disappearing into his mouth. She pulled away slowly, pushed him back onto the couch, and began to stand. 'Then let me show you some more.' She stepped out of her heels and began on the zipper at the back of her dress. He wondered if she would turn and feign modesty as all of the other girls had insisted on doing, but she only broke his gaze to pull her dress over her head and stood in her stockings, garter and bra for his perusal. He drank her in, leaning further into the couch. 'Your brassiere?' She grinned and took it off. 'Oh my.' Her smile increased as she lowered to her knees, running her hands along his thighs and bending to nuzzle the crook of his hip. Her hands fell to his fly and she unbuttoned it, pulling down his trousers and briefs. Her hand wrapped around him as her tongue teased his head. 'Oh *my*...'

'You keep saying that.'

'It expresses my feelings exquisitely.' She laughed again and enveloped him with her mouth. Her tongue pressed against his shaft as she slid down lower and lower until his head just grazed the back of her throat. He reached to run the tips of his fingers along her breasts and felt the undeniable push of her chest back into his hand. Then she began to pump him with her mouth, lips sucking in, cheeks hollowing. Her tongue caressed his tip, licking up the tiny droplets of pre-cum as they beaded from his pleasure. His head fell back against the musky leather of the couch. 'Beverly...' She moaned around him and bathed him with her tongue. 'Oh, Beverly... And Holloway said you were no good at dictation.' She laughed at this, too, but low and quiet, still concentrated on the task at hand. He sat up and watched her work. Her soft, pink lips encompassed him easily, as if this action was second nature. The warmth and moisture of her mouth launched his mind into fantasies of things soon to come and he grew inside her at the thought. She looked up at him from beneath her curled bangs, her eyes shimmering and pleased. He grinned back at her and this action was so wonderfully out of character, her heart swelled to see it. A small hand with practiced fingers crept to hold his balls, massaging them gently as her head tucked down further and she took more of him into her mouth and down her throat.

The phone rang, piercing their thoughts and both went rigid. Beverly began again, only to hear it ring a second time. She looked up at him and his eyes twinkled devilishly.

'Aren't you going to get that?' She pulled off of him and stared at him as the phone rang again. 'Ms. Pine?' He was enjoying this far too much. 'Answer the phone, Ms. Pine.' She rose and walked to his desk, bending over to reach the receiver. He leaned back on the couch, his face the very picture of contentment.

'Hal Steadman's office. How may I help you?' She listened a moment, unaware that her companion had risen from his post and was searching for a better vantage point. 'I'm sorry, Mr. Jones. Mr. Steadman is otherwise engaged at the moment.' He stifled a laugh. 'Would you like me to take a message? Certainly. Just a moment.' The legal pad on his desk was more than apparent but a pen was nowhere in sight. She rummaged about a moment, turning to ask him where they might be located. He was beside her, so close she could feel him breathing on her skin. He pulled a fountain pen out of his vest pocket and handled it to her, making no attempt to hide the hunger from his eyes as he took in her every detail. She could hardly breathe. A voice crackled on the other line of the phone. 'Yes! I'm terribly sorry about that. I'll take that message now.' She turned, scratching the memo on his legal pad. 'Uh-huh. Mm-hm.' His fingers smoothed her sides, exploring her hips, the curve of her ass, the secret skin of her inner thighs. 'Absolutely!' she replied, her voice too loud. She cleared her throat. 'Seven thirty? Certainly. I'll get that right to him. Uh-huh. Wonderful. Thank you so much for your call.' She closed the pen and set the receiver down. He spun her to him and took her mouth, frantic for her touch, exhilarated by her echo of a response. Together they ripped off the remainder of his clothes and he sent a silent apology to his cleaner for the creases and odd stains. He pushed her up onto his desk and paused to feel the heat from her – so close – against his cock.

'Ms. Pine?' he whispered, suckling on her small brown nipple. Her head fell back as she moaned.

'Yes, sir?'

'May I make another inquiry concerning your disregard for our dress code?'

Her fingers massaged his scalp. 'I really don't think I'm to blame for my current attire.'

'At the moment you are in *complete* compliance so far as I'm concerned. No, this is about earlier.' He ran his tongue up her breast and along the ridge of her delicious collar. Her hips strained to meet his and he resisted the urge to plunge into her. 'I couldn't help but notice the, uh, the strategic placement of your chair at your desk. And it made me wonder if you might be aware of the fact that, where you were sitting, I might be the only witness to your private state of undress.' He sucked a moment on her neck. Her sounds thrilled him; his teasing was becoming unbearable to him. 'Would that be the case, Ms. Pine?'

She swallowed and licked her lips, blinking hard to clear her mind. 'I must admit that I was very aware you were in the line of vision. You didn't seem to mind.' She ducked her head and teased his ear with her tongue. 'But, Mr. Steadman,' she whispered, hot breath tickling, 'After two weeks of watching you in your office and seeing that couch, I had to keep going home at lunch to change. I kept soaking through my panties.'

It was his turn to clear his throat. 'Is that so?' She nodded, nibbling his ear. He looked into her eyes and indicated with his head. 'That couch over there?' She nodded again, her eyes not leaving his. 'And is there something in particular you would care to do on that couch?' She nodded once more. 'Don't be shy now, my dear. Tell me.'

She kissed him softly. 'Hal,' she whispered and couldn't help but smile. She wasn't sure she could tell him how much she'd wanted to feel that word caress her lips, how long she'd been waiting. 'Hal,' she repeated, 'I want you to fuck me on that couch.'

His gaze never wavered, but a tiny smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. 'Is that so?'

'Yes.' She cocked an eyebrow. 'I want you to fuck me on that couch.'

He scooped her up then and carried her across the room. He laid her on the couch once more, but with reverence and tenderness she had not expected. But as he climbed on top of her, the happy deviance was again dancing in his eyes and he reached to part her legs. His hand strayed up her leg and entered her a moment as if to test the sensation. 'I think this could be arranged,' he murmured. He removed his hand and sucked his moist finger. Her hips rose in ardor. 'Yes, I think this could be an amicable arrangement.' He drew her hips closer, teasing her clitoris with the tip of his cock, tracing her lips and the entrance of her cunt. 'And would now be an acceptable moment to accomplish this?'

'Yes, Hal!' Her hips urged him on, but he held back.

'Now, Beverly?' It was almost painful to wait a moment longer but he could resist just to hear her say it.

'Now, Hal! Fuck me now!'

He slid inside of her, delighting in the dichotomy of the easy glide with the intense tightening of her muscles. She seemed to drag him in further and further, begging to feel his full length buried within her. Her legs wrapped around him instantly, arms circling to do the same, and she rocked with his rhythm expertly. His hands danced along her body, grasping at thighs and sides and back, caressing collar and neck, tugging gently at her hair. His imagination bloomed at her overwhelming heat, her unimaginable wetness, the sudden realization that her white dress might be stained from their earlier exploits. It would be the only talk at the water cooler tomorrow. He moaned at the thought and the mild pain of her garter clips pinching his skin, so different from the silk stockings wrapped around his abdomen, both delicious nonetheless. His eyes were heavy when he looked into hers. She took his face and latched onto his mouth with her own. His hands strayed beneath her pelvis and pulled up her hips. He pressed further inside her, catching her moan with his tongue and her scratching nails with his back.

'Hal--!' Her voice thrilled him: too loud, too high. He could almost see their coworkers pausing at his door to listen. He sighed a moan at the thought and bent to tug at her peaked nipple with his lips. Beverly writhed and pleaded below him, murmured her pleasure incomprehensively. He buried his face in her chest and allowed her wet warmth, her arms and legs, the soft smell of her perfume and caress of her stockings to overwhelm him, drag him away.