Laptop Performance

Chapter One

Taming an inscrutable woman with an excruciating attitude

Part 1 The Setting

Another anonymous hotel in another town. It was the start of a new assignment. My client was Chief Technical Officer of a large, newly merged business. We'd worked together very effectively in the past and got on well. So he over-rode his fellow directors in asking me to bid to manage the implementation of an enterprise system and the associated business processes. The problem was that I had little knowledge of HR processes. They were a critical requirement of the new company. I was put under a time pressure, to find a partner with expertise in HR. He had given me two weeks to propose someone who would impress his colleagues. One had instantly sprung to mind, but she came with problems, which presented many reasons not to suggest her.

Frankly, she was a prize bitch. Sullen when she didn't get her own way and with an attitude of entitlement, she tended to annoy people. Her sharp tongue and put-downs of men tended to keep them at bay. Which was a shame because she was exceptionally attractive.

Emily had been born with the proverbial silver spoon in her mouth. Her family had been imbued with 'old' money. Her father and uncle had made a pact that her brother would receive one inheritance and she the other. But for that, she would have to wait. Her inheritance would for the foreseeable future remain at the whim of her distant childless uncle.

She had everything she needed from birth. Whilst that had not made her a snob, she was somewhat insensitive to the feelings of others. She had deliberately chosen not to rely on family money or connections. She had preferred to plot her own career path, which had taken her in to HR. She had knowledge and expertise which dovetailed in so neatly with my broader experience that we made a good fit. But, she always made me feel inadequate.

She had married well in class terms, but less well in terms of marital trust and reliance. Orson was a shit. He gambled, flirted outrageously, and had almost certainly slept around. Although Emily had turned a blind eye for the sake of appearances, the marriage inevitably ended in an acrimonious divorce. I was the proverbial shoulder on which she chose to unburden herself on several occasions. Hers was a tale she did not want her female friends to witness.

OK, I bring it on myself. On the surface, I'm a good listener, but I'm not always mentally so tolerant. So whilst my confider might feel better, I might be seething inside with insensitivity and impatience. I didn't think that hypocritical, since they always seemed to feel better for talking. I felt even less sympathetic than usual to Emily though, because she had all the benefits in life: family money, good breaks, and good connections, which I had lacked. So it surprised me to learn that Orson had frittered away most of their marital resources.. Her social image had been a false façade for so long. Now, single and resentful, she needed to earn money to support her lifestyle. Luckily she had a career to fall back on.

We had frequently found ourselves thrown together through circumstances. I'm single and often need a partner for business-related social events. Emily is always keen to socialise. Emily is a gorgeous looking woman. My friends say that she's outside my league. I have to admit that. But they don't know what lies beneath each of our superficial veneers; what we get from our liaison. One thing I never got was my 'leg over'. My only solace was, rarely did anyone else.

My friends see a tall, leggy brunette, with a trim but hourglass figure, and a deceptively fulsome bust. I Know, I've seen her in bikinis, and she always looked sensational. One could never guess from her everyday wear that her breasts were so fantastic. She also dressed well, and could manage glamour with ease. It always interested me to see socialites and celebrities dress for semi-formal occasions. Unlike most women, they tended more to under-dress, to show more flesh. Emily was no exception in that respect. I had seen lots of different exposed parts of her body, though never all at the same time. I had built up a mental picture of her seismically attractive body. But I had never been granted the privilege of undressing her.

But it was her face that caused me the most discomfort. Emily was classically beautiful with beguiling eyes, a cute turned up nose, large mouth, and sumptuous lips. When she wasn't frowning but showing real interest, her eyes could seduce all by themselves.

We had worked together many times and on two major projects in the past, as independent consultants. We had kept ourselves to ourselves in those days and met only at work. Our careers had progressed on parallel lines. Then her marital problems emerged, and with it her need to confide in a reliable confidante. I was her chosen ear, and a poor choice. Because although I could listen, and I never tired of staring at her lovely face and enticing body, I was unutterably bored by what came out of her mouth.

But now, I had to quell my doubts and persuade her to combine forces with me as joint consultants.

"Oh, hi, is Emily there?"

"I regret that she is otherwise engaged. Whom shall I say is calling?"

She employed a maid/housekeeper who proved a very effective chaperone.

"It's Simon, Simon Cairns. When will she be available?"

There was a sound of the phone receiver being manhandled. Then a breathy voice came on the line.

"Hallo, who's there?"

No trace of haughtiness that day, which presaged well.

"Simon. Emily?"

"Yes it is. Could you not tell? How are you Simon?"

"Good, thank you. Are you well; keeping busy?.

"I assume you mean work-wise. I'm doing something I absolutely detest but I need the money. Why, do you have something more interesting to offer?

"Strange that you should ask that. Why would I need an ulterior motive to call a friend or colleague?"

"Don't give me that guff. You've been approached by Brian Godber, and you need an associate."

"How did you work that out?"

"Because he also called me. He knows your limitations, and what I can offer. I'm happy to collaborate on this project, as an equal partner."

Damn, the consultancy world can be incestuous at times.

Part 2 The Interview

Our prospective sponsor, Brian, had reported to the Board his proposal to use our tentatively formed Partnership for the project. But they insisted on a beauty parade of shortlisted consultancies. The day of our interview, I had palpitations. I was well prepared, but I did not know which particular Emily was going to turn up. I was relieved in the event to see from her top layers that she had dressed conservatively in a grey suit combination of pencil skirt and matching jacket with a white silk blouse. Her corporate look suited the occasion. The skirt was below the knee but gave the impression of being layered, with the top layer overhanging the lower half. Her body was nicely tanned, so she had decided to dispense with tights or stockings. But her legs, or what little could be seen of them, looked fetching.

The Board had convened in the large boardroom, which overlooked the Thames from the South, with stunning views of the river, the Houses of Parliament and the London Eye. They sat all on one side of the boardroom table to one side of the room. That left a large floor space for elite gatherings and entertaining. On that day, the presenters had access to AV equipment , two chairs and a coffee table between them, and a large screen as backdrop. There was nowhere to hide behind a table; our body language would be on full view.

After introductions, I led our presentation. The Board was composed of ten Directors of whom five were female. We both stood whilst I spoke, frequently referring to Emily to chip in with comments or observations. She stood rather stiffly, looking unusually uncomfortable in her feminine business suit. Her bust looked primed to burst out from within the lapels of the buttoned up jacket, making her appear top heavy. Normally she dressed to make her body looked more balanced.

After our joint presentation came the questions, for which we sat and tried to look comfortable and at ease. Engagement with the Board would be critical if we were to win the commission. But Emily must have guessed how the questions would go. I suspected that she had even primed the HR Director, predictably a woman, to ask a probing question. I felt that I had carried the presentation so far, even though Emily gave competent answers as necessary. I had done my best to exude confidence, whilst Emily had appeared somewhat wooden and uncomfortable.

Samantha Wellbeloved, the HR Director, posed a question.

"My question is to Emily. I know we ladies don't always feel able to be assertive in a male-dominated environment. How do you deal with a repressive working environment?"

My stomach churned. That sounded like a loaded question that could alienate half of her Board colleagues. Had I somehow offended that lady with my demeanour? Emily had not appeared sure of herself, and I had filled in with supplementary answers to several of hers.

But now Emily smiled and appeared to relax.

"Thank you for that question Samantha. As you infer from your own experience, we sometimes operate in a male-dominated environment - with no offence to the gentlemen present. This Board does gratifyingly have equal gender representation. But gender imbalance is in many areas the nature of big business. I find it essential always to have a backup strategy to influence the operating environment, to make it more conducive to my plans.

"For example, I find wearing a suit as befits a boardroom, can be constricting. It is a feminine concession to a distinctly male uniform code. It is appropriate to many business environments, but perhaps sometimes men and women would rather it be more informal. So I come prepared."

She stood up and unbuttoned her jacket. She slipped it off and placed it on the back of her chair. Watching that caused my stomach to lurch. I sat upright, rigid with shock, which must have been evident to our audience. For a tightly choreographed presentation, this felt like she was going off piste. As she removed her jacket, her impressive bust bounced beneath her silk, sleeveless top. The imprint of her prominent nipples showed through the shiny material. I hoped that she and the HR director, Samantha, had discussed this development. Samantha would know the attitudes and sensibilities of individual Board Members.

But I had to admit that Emily looked instantly bodily more balanced, and definitely more alluring.

She placed her hands on her hips and surveyed her interviewers one by one, with a slowly sweeping gaze along their line of faces. The atmosphere in the boardroom was utterly silent. I felt them waiting for her next move. I did, too, holding my breath. I wanted to cross my legs to hide my erection. Those breasts were taking on a life of their own. This was suddenly pure theatre.

"One has to be sympathetic to the environment, but equally flexible to respond to the needs of the moment; to be ready for action. For example, I have felt constrained by this constricting business uniform. So, in a flash, I change that."

She leant down and reached into the overlaying flap to her skirt at the side. The edge of the lower layer came away neatly. She deftly pulled it adrift and unwound the lower layer all the way around her legs, to reveal a well above the knee skirt with two slits which gave freedom of movement at the hips. Her body was transformed. She revealed her long smooth-skinned legs with a tantalising suggestion of equally delightful thighs.

"Now, I have freedom to move, and to control my environment. I feel better, more confident, and on top of my game. When I feel relaxed, I can inspire others to loosen up as well and give of their best."

She had walked casually up and down the presentation area, angling her body to face individual Board members, and in doing so shown off the enticing line of her hips and bottom. She sat down to much stirring and hurried discussions behind the board room table.

Samantha was first to respond, to set the tone. "Is that the behaviour we should expect to see in the workplace?"

Emily chuckled, a pleasant, engaging sound. Her voice tone had changed, softening perceptibly.

"Not at all. I would dress in the workplace not to impress or distract, but to feel comfortable and to appear in control."

The Chairman, a crusty elder gentleman, spoke up. "So why, young lady, have you chosen to put on this circus act in this interview?"

I studied Emily, my appreciation of her had been soaring up to that point. It teetered on a precipice now.

"I came prepared, but did not necessarily intend to execute my contingency plan. But I felt that the occasion merited light relief without destroying the serious intent of this meeting. My demonstration is a metaphor of how I would make myself comfortable in a tense situation. If I'm relaxed, that ease of mood coveys itself to my audience. Do you all not feel more relaxed now?"

I stared at her uncomprehendingly. I had never seen Emily look so poised at work. Although she was a stunning brunette, she put me in mind of the blonde Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct. She gave me a quick glance, as if she had read my mind. She uncrossed her legs and re-crossed them the other way. I could not see what her audience might have glimpsed between her legs.

Another, younger man, piped up in a playful voice. "So if you felt more comfortable naked, would you undress?"

Emily looked straight at him and smiled again. "I would not act inappropriately. If you were to propose office nude days, I would need due notice of that."

I held my breath. The atmosphere in that room had changed. It felt tense, overcharged. Emily continued, unphased by the change in direction of the discussion.

"We all put on an act at work. I wouldn't typify it as a circus, but we must play many roles, each appropriate to the moment, subject to decency and office proprieties. I felt the potentially tense situation of this meeting merited a dramatic statement of my adaptability to my environment."

I was not the only one thinking that experiencing Emily's willing adaptability in some discreet corner would be arousing.

Another Director piped up. "Most resourceful, uplifting and entertaining. Thank you young lady."

The Chairman glanced either way at his colleagues, then smiled. "Yes indeed, most illuminating."

He wrapped up the meeting and thanked us for attending. We later heard that we had won the commission.

My gratitude towards Emily had grown. Also, my personal interest in Samantha had been awakened.

~*~*~

Part 3

That dress could turn a thousand heads

So here we were, Emily and I occupying separate rooms in the same hotel, about to start work the following day together.

The room phone rang. It was Emily.

"What are you doing about dinner?" It demonstrated our enduring, arms' length relationship that we had not discussed our evening plans.

"I thought I'd dine in the restaurant. I'm disinclined to hit the streets this evening. You?"

"Ditto. Let's share a table. Say, 7:30? I'm going to dress up. I suggest you do the same."

"Look, Emily -- Emily?"

She'd hung up on me.

I eschewed my casual trousers and sweater, and wore a business suit instead, presenting myself at the Restaurant Manager's lectern promptly at 7:30 pm. "Name, sir," he asked imperiously.

I'm not easily cowed by petty officials, but I hadn't booked a table Maybe Emily had?

"Er, I'm dining with - Emily Porter?"

He scanned his table list. "Porter, Porter -- ah yes, table for Mr Porter, for two."

He led me seething -- not him, me -- to a well-positioned table by a window with a panoramic view. Ordinarily I wouldn't have batted an eyelid, but I knew Emily could play mind games over orders of precedence and dominance and subordination. I was after all, the lead consultant. The table was unoccupied. I sighed. Emily would no doubt want to make an entrance.

Fifteen minutes later, she appeared, escorted not only by the maître d', but also the wine waiter. He had previously served me with wine and I was on my second glass. They fawned over her. I glanced at her irritably, then did a double take. She had put up her brunette locks in a bun, which accentuated her graceful neck. Her body was adorned with a single garment, a tailored, black, lacy, mid-calf dress, with patterned flowers, most heavily concentrated at her nipples and crotch. The bare skin beneath showed as more than a suggestion. If the garment had ever had an under slip for decency purposes, Emily had discarded it. The embroidered material of the dress had sufficient give to mould itself to her body. And it did that so well that it emphasised just how perfectly shapely her figure was. The material was sheer enough between the floral patterns to show beyond doubt that she wore no underwear.

The attendance of the fawning wine waiter was explained when he laid on the table a laptop computer. She smiled at him, and allowed the Maître d' to pull out her chair and seat her.

My heart sank. She had reverted to type. The engaging woman in that board room interview had gone. The commission would be a struggle to complete with her domineering presence. We had rarely managed to work in harmony.

I stood up as she approached. She had entered with an unaccustomed swing of her hips which combined with the sheerness of much of the dress to present a very raunchy image. The avoidable but deliberate rolling of her hips caused the material of the dress to shift from side to side on her hips as she walked, displacing the modesty panel of embroidered flowers, first to one side then the other. I could not stop myself from staring. My attention was rewarded too, when I caught a glimpse of her pubic area behind the translucent part of the material. Despite the slightly opaque nature of the lace , it was clear that her pussy had been shaved. She had held a clutch bag in front of it as she walked, but lifted it to place it on the table.

"If you can tear your eyes from my alluring hips," she intoned with steely irony, "I would like to spend our time discussing the brief. I've brought my laptop down to refresh our memories, since you took the liberty of drastically extending the brief."

A waiter hovered behind her, with her laptop in his hands.

"Certainly, we can talk. But I did not extend the brief. I merely clarified it with details of what I assumed our client wished us to achieve. Brian was most appreciative. There is nothing worse than a vague brief which turns out to be unachievable."

The Maître d' stood impassively as she remained standing to add assertiveness to her expression of disdain. She finally deigned to sit, and did so with quite a bump of her delectable rear on the seat. That caused her breasts to bounce like a '70s American Oldsmobile, continuing to rebound persistently long after the jolt that caused it had died away. Those mammaries looked humungous behind the yielding top of her dress.

The waiter was poised to take our order, yet his relaxed but alert expression showed that he was content not to expedite proceedings. His eyes were like stalks as he surveyed her teasingly arrayed bust.

I glanced around at other nearby tables. Every male seemed to have zoomed in on her breasts, apart from those with a decent view of her non-pantied sides.

She gave me her order then turned on her laptop. Within minutes she had an incoming Skype call. "Oh, what a surprise," she cooed.

"Oh, hi Marlon. I'm just having dinner in the hotel. I'm away on assignment, if you recall. That's why I wanted to speak earlier."

She frowned as she attempted to adjust the volume. Marlon's initial words were being broadcast around the restaurant. I leapt to her assistance, which she gratefully accepted. I reduced the volume to a more intimate level. Emily was not a technophile. All the IT and systems work on the project would be down to me to oversee. I hovered at her side and stared down at her when I had finished. Her natural cleavage looked simply sublime from above.