If I'm Honest - Picture Perfect Ch. 02 Pt. 01

She stopped as she turned the page and reached a picture from Havana, the last trip I'd taken back in 2019. An elderly Cuban man stood at the edge of the frame, smartly dressed in an old white suit and leaning against a vintage car, one of a row of the brightly painted vehicles the city is famous for. Most people would have paid attention to the cars, but I had deliberately gone with a shallow depth of field and pushed the contrast as far as I dared. The result was the focus being almost entirely on the man himself, starkly set against a near impressionistic blur of vibrant colour, all but the largest details lost in the bokeh. It was the sort of photograph I loved, taking my time to dare on something different or artistic when others would have passed up on for the easy shot.

"...this," she finished.

"It's one of my favourites, glad you like it," I said, relishing the approval.

"Like it? I love it," she flicked through several more pages of similar pictures, going from more stylised portraits to black and white landscapes and heavy contrast atmospheric pieces where the glare from the sun almost drowned out half the shot. "Riley, you're spectacular."

I'd let my attention wander to the portfolio, and it was only as I glanced up that I realised she was looking directly at me as she said the compliment. That time I definitely blushed.

I was half expecting her to kiss me then and I waited for the brush of her lips against my own, but instead she produced a sheet of paper and passed it to me. "These are the locations we've picked out to focus on in the next year. Do you think any of them would interest you?"

If you had given me a dream list of destinations, there wouldn't have been many that weren't on there already. Bolivia, Zanzibar, Kyrgyzstan, and Bhutan. Senegal, Angola and Indonesia. I looked at the sheet in front of me knowing you could give me a decade and I would never get tired of working my way through. In the moment, Lydia could have asked me to work for expenses alone and I would have jumped at the opportunity.

There were a million things I should have asked, about pay, expectations, visions and business models. But right then I didn't want questions on my lips, I wanted hers. Lydia was offering me my dream job, and I answered her with a kiss, finally giving in fully to the urges I'd been fighting since Toronto.

Lydia didn't need encouragement. Tender at first, pressed softly against me. Then hungry, as her tongue found my own and coaxed my mouth open. She cupped my face, and leant forward just enough that my hand reached for the table to brace myself, shoving several papers aside. The bracelet sang with satisfaction and I lost myself in her for several long seconds.

"This is insanely unprofessional of me," she purred eventually, forehead leaning against mine as we broke from the kiss.

"I don't care," I replied.

"You can walk out right now if you want to, the job's yours either way..."

My answer was another kiss, not able to get enough of her, of the taste and touch. And she obliged again, feeding the hunger the bracelet had left me with. Slowly, firmly, and assertively. Lydia eventually pushed me back with a palm eased almost apologetically against my chest, allowing her to head to the door, and quietly turn the lock closed.

Returning to me, she bent down enough to scoop hands under my ass, lifting me from my chair and setting me down upon the desk. She fixed me with a look, practically pinning me in place with it, her eyes not leaving my own as she unclasped my belt. I reached to try and remove her blazer, but was met with her hands pulling mine away.

"Miss Levesque, if I want your assistance I'll ask for it." Her voice lilted playfully, accompanied by a provocative smirk that left me in zero doubt about how much she expected to be in charge. Sparks caught at the submissive streak within me, sending flames running through my libido. Lydia hooked fingers into the top of the plain, functional panties I'd worn that morning and slowly slid both underwear and jeans halfway down my legs in a single seductive motion.

"...yes Ma'am."

She stepped back, and rewarded my compliance by giving me what I'd wanted. The blazer fell from her shoulders, temptingly met by the slow peel away of her top. Lydia drew out the removal of the lacey black bra that waited beneath, before letting that too drop. Her chest was modest, lightly tanned and perfectly shaped. It was the silver barbell that pierced her right nipple, however, that really made the breath catch hard in my throat before tripping out as a gratified exclamation.

"Oh fuck..."

I was just barely too loud, and Lydia placed a hand across my mouth. Even with the door locked it was still possible to draw too much notice to ourselves. I squirmed, rubbing my thighs together, turned on by how commanding the gesture was.

"I assume you like what you see," Lydia asked, and I gave a small, wide eyed nod, mouth still covered. I've never been able to exactly pinpoint what it is about seeing nipple piercings on another woman that short circuits my sense quite so hard. Probably something about how unashamedly sexual the aesthetic is, even if I'd only been with a tiny number of girls that satisfied that particular itch. We all have our kinks, and this was one of mine Lydia played up to hard.

As I regarded her, the fingers of her other hand found the slick, accommodating heat of my entrance, giving a single rub before two glided inside me. I whimpered into her palm, gripping at the edge of the table as I pushed back against her.

"I'm going to move my hand," she said, easing the grip across my mouth. "Do you think you can keep quiet for me?"

I gave my head a small shake. It wasn't just that I've always been a needy, vocal thing in bed, although that was definitely true. I also simply didn't want her hand to be moved away, enjoying the feeling of her control over me just a little bit too much. The hand moved regardless, although the fact that it was instantly replaced by Lydia's lips went a long way to placating me. Her fingers kept working at my crotch, strumming my core, and I closed my eyes while her tongue fought back my moans.

"Well, you're going to have to find a way," Lydia continued, releasing me. "Because I have other things in mind I need it for."

The checks of my shirt rode up, along with my bra, as she unceremoniously pulled them free of my petite tits without disrobing me. My own nipples met the air, already stiff and wanting. Her weight forced me backwards, and I helplessly sprawled my tall frame out across the conference table, half dressed and fraying under Lydia's efforts. I brought my own finger to my mouth, forced to bite into to keep my cries from spilling out as she toyed with my body.

Her fingers filled me, and I left them soaked as they pumped against my core. A thumb joined them, firmly pressed snug against the wanting bud of my clit, and I trailed hot streaks of my arousal across her.

The hand she had freed from my mouth tormented my nipples, rolling them, pinching, tugging and twisting. I clenched against her the rougher she got with the tightness of my cunt twitching out my appreciation. She paid attention, building gradually the roughness she inflicted on me until I balled up my eyes and couldn't take any more. And her lips, plush and skilled, traced up and down across my eager flesh, trailing licks and kisses across my skin, showering me with affection even as she lurched me towards my limit.

My desire was already pulled taut by the day's madness, and it was quick to snap, tension giving way to a first wonderful orgasm that grew through me. Everything I had bundled up and tried to deny rushed up at once. My back bent, body strained and pleasure crashed through the whole of me, right down towards my toes.

Lydia wasn't happy to let me be satisfied with one however and she knelt beside the table, spreading my legs. I felt raw, hot and exposed and desperate, and the feeling of her tongue against my slit was more than I could bear. I arched my back and it took everything I had not to squeal or curse or cry, fighting the pressure in my chest to not simply raise my voice and give us away. The anxiety of getting caught mortified me along with the thought of the judgement it would bring. But the sick little feeling of the thought of anyone on the other side of the door noticing us turned perverse in the pit of my stomach. It drove me harder and left me begging Lydia to finish me faster.

Somehow I kept my voice to myself as I shivered, spent, through a second climax. I'd come hard before, and definitely harder since, but this one didn't seem to end, drawn from me like a long wordlessly exhaled prayer.

The feeling of Lydia's body against me lifted, and by the time I had recovered enough to open my eyes I saw that she had moved to a chair. Clothing now also removed from her lower half she sat with her own legs splayed apart, inviting me towards the neat tuft of blonde hair and the glistening pink lips below.

It was impossible to resist stealing another kiss from her, tasting myself tinged across her lips. Likewise I couldn't stop myself from lingering at her chest, attention caught again by the silver of her piercing. But she was impatient for her own satisfaction, and soon pressed me to my knees, supplicant before her.

I normally take a small amount of pride in how well I go down on other women, but I know this wasn't my best. I was exhausted with spent tension, addled and worn. I felt like I fumbled my way through, earnest and eager but long past any sense of practised endeavour. Lydia didn't seem to care however, and her hips rocked against my face. She gripped my hair and pushed me deeper, holding me firmly enough that my efforts came out snatched and wild.

I was surprised by just how fast and hard she came. A light smatter of her juices gushed across my tongue and I lapped them clean, savouring the taste of her bliss.

Neither of us moved for a long minute, my eyes closed, head resting against her thigh. A clock ticked on the wall, the only sound accompanying our heavy breaths, until Lydia finally found her voice and spoke.

"If I'm Honest Riley, I think both of us want you to have this job more than a relationship. I can be selfish, and if we were to keep doing this I would fire you as soon as we had our first argument. And we would argue."

There was an odd pang of feelings I wasn't able to place my finger on. The immediate sense of rejection stung, just as it had with Dani, but I knew in my heart she was right. Sitting alongside it was the excited gratification of knowing I'd gotten the job, and a strange sense of something I couldn't name at the notion I'd just fucked my way through an interview on my way to it. Not that I couldn't have walked out at any moment and still had it on merit.

Lydia shifted me away, starting to dress again, suddenly seeming to be aware that there was nothing but a flimsy door between us and her employees, and that we had already been in here longer than we should. Even so she forced a smile, managing to reassure me that she at least had no regrets.

"Chris can handle contracts for you. You should let him know which of the destinations you're most interested in handling," she said, re-clasping her bra. Her eyes panned to the table, and to where the list she had printed sat crumpled, apparently caught under my ass as we had fucked. "Just let me make sure we print you another of those before you leave."