The Art of Seduction

I was sitting in the waiting room with about twelve other applicants. The agency said there would be competition, but I never expected this much. I had arrived just after lunch and I was the next to be called in for my interview.

When the receptionist nodded to me and said, "Becky, your next," I stood as she opened the door to the office. He stood and motioned to a chair at the side of his desk. I sat down and demurely crossed my legs. I had deliberately dressed down. I mean more appropriately for a business interview than I normally would dress, more casually.

For a moment he went over my resume and while he read, I had an opportunity to do my own evaluation. Perhaps thirty. Not much more I would guess. Good looking. Maybe too good looking. Tall, handsome, athletic, with a quiet sort of masculinity that most men lack.

I wanted the job desperately and as he began to ask about my experience, I realized exactly how weak I was in some areas and had to admit it. He smiled and just seemed to skim over my shortcomings. He was actually making me feel very at ease.

All the other interviews I had been on were conducted by men or women I felt very uncomfortable with, but he was different. Not exactly fatherly, but sort of understanding, almost as if he were deciding if I were worth hiring with out having the best resume possible.

Another thing about him. He was exciting me. I don't know why, maybe the way he moved, or his aftershave lotion, sort of like when you see some good looking guy in a movie and can't get him out of your mind. I really don't know what it was, but I was actually responding sexually to being near him.

At the end of the interview I expected the usual, "don't call us, we'll call you" dismissal, but no. He got up and walked around the desk and taking my arm led me to the door. I was terrified. Turning he smiled and sort of whispered to me. You're coming back tomorrow. I have more to interview, but you're definitely in contention.

I was floating. I took my cell phone off vibrate, and called Marcy, my best friend and roommate to tell her about the interview. At that point all I could really tell was that the guy who interviewed me was so damn sexy that I thought I'd die if I didn't get the job.

Then it dawned on me. What if the administrative assistant job was for someone else? Like a nasty old guy or woman. I needed a job yeah, and one that paid well but for a person I could feel comfortable with.

That night, my fantasy was him. And lying in my bed with my eyes closed, I almost set a record for cumming. Six times. Actually I think I could have gone on and on but I had no spare batteries and my hand got tired.

I should explain, my clitoris is very sensitive and except for four or five days a month, I can't wear panties. The friction would drive me insane. So anyway I masturbated again and again and dreamed up names for him. Actually he had never introduced himself to me; I only knew he was Mr.Tarker.

The next morning at ten I was in the office again. The lady sitting at the desk across the room was reading something. I was edgy so I started a conversation.

"Er. Miss, is the gentleman interviewing us one of the officers here?"

"Mr. Tarker? He's the president and owner. His first name is Brad. But I wouldn't use it unless he sort of tells you that you can. I think he's interviewing for an administrative assistant. Someone to take the load off his shoulders, so to speak."

There was a long pause and I started again.

"Is he...you know, difficult to work with?"

She smiled and looked a sympathetic. Then she answered.

"Honey, he's every girls dream but ever since his wife died seven months ago he's been sort of aloof. Ya know. Every woman in the typing pool and all the others, even the visitors who come in on business, have been throwing themselves at him"......... She paused and continued.

"Even me and I'm married. He was devastated when she died. For almost two months all he did was come in and sign what ever papers he absolutely had to, then leave. He didn't want all the predators hounding him. Or maybe he just isn't interested."

"Was he married long?" I asked.

"No actually only about eight months. His wife was pregnant when it happened, the airplane crash, I mean. But even before he got married he had a stable of women clamoring over him. He's just that kind of guy, ya know, cool and laid back, sort of shy in a boyish way. Not very aggressive, though I've heard he used to be something special in the love making department if you know what I mean."

I sat quietly, not wanting to push it too much. Something on her desk beeped and she stood up.

"He's ready for you, Miss Radner."

"Go right in. And good luck."

This time she just nodded to the door. She didn't get up or open it. But she did turn and whisper. "Good Luck Becky. I hope it's you."

This time when I went in, he wasn't behind the desk. He had his back to the door and was looking down at something in the park across the street.

I moved to his side and looked down. He was watching some children playing on the swing sets across the way. I couldn't read his mind but suddenly I felt very close to him and sort of sorry.

Turning he asked me to sit down. Then he took his seat and swiveled towards me.

"Becky, this job isn't terribly difficult but it does require a fair amount of intuitive decision making. You know sensing what has to be done and reading what a client wants without them knowing themselves. You seem to be able to...well look at a situation and understand what needs to be done. Last night I reread all of the resumes and I made my choice. If you still want the job it's yours."

Oh my god... I fought the urge to jump up and throw my arms around him. Staying as calm as I could, I managed the expected, "Thank you, and you won't be sorry", crap and satl back down in my seat.

I was in the clouds and really only got bits and pieces of what he was saying from that point on. Something about being back at nine in the morning, and about him explaining something. Not a hell of a lot more.

On my way out the lady at the desk, gave me the thumbs up and welcomed me aboard. The next day I learned that her name was Rita and that she was forty five years old and married.

It was crazy. I had the job but I was more elated by the fact that I would be with him. Brad.

Again I called my best friend, Marcy at her job and told her the good news. That night we celebrated. Well sort of... We went to our local watering hole and got a bit stewed.

Marcy kept pumping me about Mr. Tarker. Was he single? Did I like him? Was he sexy? (Translation: would I like to go to bed with him), and what was I going to do in my new job.

The, "was he sexy", thing surprised even me. I confessed that I hoped something would happen, but it was so unlike me. Anyway after having too much to drink we went home. That night I had a name for my fantasy lover,"BRAD." As numb as I was, I managed a record breaking, seven.... I had stocked up on fresh batteries.

The next morning I was at work early. I was surprised to learn that my office was a private one adjoining his with a private door between our offices. I was shown my desk and given a copy of my job description. Things that I was expected to do.

On the second paragraph was the phrase, "Accompany the president on travel when necessary and attend social functions as directed." I felt giddy. And for the next hour I rearranged the office to suit me.

The office was almost as large as Mr. Tarker's. I had a separate computer desk at one end and my regular desk towards the center of the other end. Though not nearly as large as his massive black walnut desk, mine was sufficiently large enough for most executive's purposes. And I had a long black leather sofa thing with a sort of coffee table in front of it to lounge in when time permitted.

Even before Mr. Tarker came in, several of the girls from the pool arrived to look me over, presumably to introduce themselves. In reality I was their boss and they probably wanted to see if I was going to give them any trouble.

I must confess, there was a lot of competition in front of me. They could all have been models for some mans magazine and if they had designs on Brad and had failed, I'd have to come up with something really different if I wanted him.

Over the next two weeks things went smoothly and I learned a bit more about my boss. We got close enough to be on first a first name basis. I would relay his directives to the girls and they would take care of things. But on those occasions when it was necessary for one of the girls to have a one on one meeting with Brad, I began to notice a pattern.

It began one day when Angie Phelps was called in to go over some invoices. Brad spent about fifteen minutes with her, hovering over her, pointing out discrepancies and her nodding her head. When she left not more than a minute passed before Brad asked me to find her and give her some invoices she had left behind.

I went out and looked for her but her desk was empty. I laid the invoices down and asking the others where she was, they simply nodded their head towards the ladies room. Entering I found her standing in the corner of the lounge with her skirt up around her waist, her left leg up on the bench, while she was pumping a rather large dildo in and out of her pussy.

Seeing me, I expected her to stop, but she didn't. She waved me off and gasped, "Let me finish. I'm almost there."

I watched her masturbate, unashamed in front of me, for a full three minutes more. I was at a loss for words.

As she came she tossed her head back and let out a long low moan, then pulled her dildo out, pulled her skirt down, and went to the sink and washed and dried her little toy. After she put it in her purse she turned to me and as if nothing had happened asked, "Do you need me for something?"

I fumbled a few words telling her that Brad wanted to return some papers and that I had put them on her desk. I turned to leave.

She caught up with me just outside the door and walked with me to her desk.

"After you've been here a while you'll understand. We all do it. It's something about being with him. Soon you'll be in there too, you know, relieving the tension." I left, shaking my head.

Over the next few weeks I saw the same thing with the others and then it suddenly dawned on me. I'd been doing the same thing after a meeting with him.

I would go back to my office, lock the doors and use my fingers to get off. We were all addicted to him. But maybe more so because he was my lover before I went to sleep each night too.

It wasn't more than two weeks later that Angie came in to my office early one morning. Closing my door she leaned up against it and handed me a CD. "Put it in your computer and watch this."

She watched me walk to my computer and I insert it.

There on the monitor was a cam recording of my office. I had apparently forgotten to turn it off or one of the girls had turned it on without my knowing. About a minute into the recording it showed me coming out of Brad's office and locking my door.

Then I walked to my couch and sat on the edge and, hiking up my skirt, I began playing with my pussy until I came.

I was more than just a little upset but what was just a little more upsetting was in the long gift wrapped box she handed me. Inside was a dildo of some sort of flexible material with a handle on the end.

She smiled when she saw my face. "You're going to wear your pretty little hand out using your fingers and I figured this would work better. And oh, I'm the only one who reviewed the CD, so don't worry about the word getting around."

That was the morning that Angie had me sit on the armrest of my couch, hike up my skirt and she performed cunnulingus on me. I came in a flash and when I finished, she hiked up her skirt and standing, put her foot on my chair and began fucking herself with her fingers.

I totally lost it. I was so horny watching her, that I went to her. I've had girl, girl, affairs in college, and Marcy and I, quite often get together and tribble and have scissor sex. Or make out together whenever we get bored, so I have no problem with it, but here I was supposed to be miss prim and proper, her boss.

That was the morning I promised that in exchange for her confidentiality I would be her partner at work whenever she really needed help. But since it was Brad that seemed to trigger her, I made a mental note to keep her as far away from him as possible. In return she promised that she would do the same if I needed her help. I do her, and she'd do me if I wanted.

For the next five days I steered her away from Brad. Although she was damn good at eating pussy, I was more into my own fantasies about Brad thant having one of my girls substitute for him. I had put her gift in the bottom drawer of my desk along with a bottle of lube And I used it a lot.

The first time I was out with Brad was at a luncheon at his country club. He told me a day in advance about it, so I was a bit more casual in my dress. A midi skirt that had a small slit down the side and a blouse that was a bit snug and outlined my perky nipples.

We had a great time and though he carried on the conversation, for the most part, with his male associates, I really felt that I was an asset. Some of the others there had brought their wives or girl friends so we had casual conversations off by ourselves.

They all had questions about my relationship with Brad, and all seemed interested in how I had managed to become so close to him. I was sure that any one of them would have been more than willing to have an affair with him if they had the opportunity, married or not.

About this time I had gotten into the habit of getting off at least once at work each day, mostly around eleven just after our morning meetings. I was hooked. A day without Brad was a day wasted. And I got so damn wet when I was around him that It sometimes became uncomfortably sticky.

The dresses I wore were always rather blousy. I couldn't stand to have anything snug across my hips and thighs and it was easier to hike that sort of skirt up when I got back in my office than more chic formfitting things.

That's when I finally got around to asking if there was a dress code for the company employees. He said there wasn't but that something discreet was generally best.

I asked about what I had been wearing and he smiled before telling me that he thought I was dressing down a little too much and that he wouldn't mind if I choose more,...Then he paused and said, "Revealing things."

That's when I switched to minis and snugger blouses and pullovers. The girls in the pool picked up on that and they too began wearing more suggestive things. I may have just screwed things up for myself. Some of the girls began doing their hair in more stylish fashions and wearing some rather revealing blouses.

Activity in the girls lounge picked up and the office traffic along with it. My god, I caught all of the girl's jilling in the lounge at least once during the next week. And they were like a family without any secrets. Not even attempting to stop when they were caught or showing any signs of being shy about it. I even found Angie and another girl, Tina doing each other.

Marcy and I were sitting on my bed one evening trying to figure out ways I might be able to break Brad and seduce him. Blackmail was out. He could just fire me and coming on to him wouldn't work either. Every girl in the office including old Rita had tried that.

I did have the edge over the others. I was now his confidant. We actually confided in each other about things such as what sort of foods we liked and what interests we had when away from work. It had gotten almost to the brother sister sort of closeness.

Then on Wednesday he told me we had to go on a trip together. A client wanted our company to purchase a yacht for him and his wife. We had to meet and go over the details and I was to read into what they really wanted. I was to dress up. You know, sheath, high heels, the works. He gave me off Thursday afternoon to have my hair done and we met at the office at six.

It was cold out and I was wearing a shawl that matched my gown. The drive was about fifty miles and we reached the restaurant at seven or so. The client and his wife arrived about fifteen minutes later.

He was interested in me. His wife was after Brad, and I was furious. I actually caught her with her hand on Brads cock and although it was obvious, her husband didn't do a damn thing about it but did try several times to slide his hand up my leg. A difficult thing to do when your contending with a form fitting sheath. Finally dinner came and she had to sit up straight and behave like a lady.

Brad acted as if nothing had happened. Anyway the deal was sealed, and the two reluctantly left. We stayed and had another drink before leaving too.

When we came out it was snowing. I wore only a shoal over my bare shoulders and in this sheath and high heels it was difficult to walk. Brad had to support me all the way to his car.

About thirty five mile from town, it got so bad we were sliding all over the road and at eleven in the evening, with all the snow coming down you couldn't see ten feet in front of you.

The motel sign showed dimly on our right and he pulled in. The parking lot was packed, mostly with trucks and Brad ran in. Ten minutes later he returned. "We got the last room. But Becky it's only a single. Just a queen sized bed and not much more. We'll just have to rough it and make do. Are you up to it?

My god if he only knew how my heart was pounding. I went into my "shy mode." "Well if that's all there is I suppose we can share." Then I remembered. I had no bra on because the sheath I was wearing was topless, and I never wear panties. Oh god I thought. I can't sleep in my dress and......

Panic turned to elation. Maybe, just maybe tonight would be the night.

It was far too late in the evening to get a cup of coffee or something warm to drink so he helped me thru the snow to the room. It was nice but sort of isolated at the far end of a long row of rooms on the first floor.

Entering, there was only the bed and a couple of straight back chairs and a dressing table with a TV on it. We would be forced to share the bed if either of us even hoped to get any sleep.

But I was now so excited and feeling so giddy that I was anxious to see how he would react.

We had no luggage so we just stood inside the door and considered options.

He began. "Becky, I'm really sorry for this but it was the last room. How do you think we should handle this? I could move the two chairs together and probably doze off. It's only eight or nine hours until morning and then we can see what the roads look like.

My heart sank.

"Look Brad, I'm no prude so I could make a more practical suggestion. We share. You take one side, and I'll take the other. That way we both get some rest."

He looked at me then up and down. "You can't possibly get any sleep in that gown thing. And I'm in a suit. No, that won't work."

I made the next suggestion. "Well, the room is rather dark and the shades are down maybe if we turn off the lights it'll be dark and we can get out of these clothes and into bed without really embarrassing one another."

He went to the wall and turned off the light, then turned it back on.

"Your right. It sure is dark. I can sleep in my shorts, if that's all right with you," he suggested.

My heart was going like a trip hammer by now. Keeping up my demur act, I nodded yes and acted shy as I went to the bed and sat down.

He turned off the lights and I heard him fumble as he undressed on the far side of the bed. Finally the bed moved again as he slid between the sheets. Now on my side of the bed, I slipped out of my sheath. My shoes had been kicked off when we came in so now I was totally nude.