tagExhibitionist & VoyeurThe Wilson Files

The Wilson Files


My concentration was on the computer screen when I heard the unmistakable sound of a pile of file folders as they hit my desk. I looked up. "Ah shit, Ellen, I just whittled that pile down from this morning."

Ellen shrugged her shoulders. "Sorry Lily. Count your blessings 'cause you should see the stack that I dropped off at Hank's office.

Ellen was right. With the economy in the toilet, I'm lucky to have this job. I popped my head over the top of my monitor and surveyed the office and a dozen empty desks that sat before me. Desks that once had people with real lives working at them. I guess I'm one of the lucky ones.

I knew what the folders consisted of. They were old clients. My job, this week at least, was to go through the files and remove all the companies that were out of business or were bought out by a larger company. That way, the sales people didn't waste their time cold calling a defunct company. It wasn't hard work, just tedious.

Time went by quickly as I worked through the stack. Before I knew it, lunchtime and come.

No expensive Bristol grilled Cajun turkey for me; nope, just a cold cut sandwich and small baggie of potato chips from home. Why does lunch always seem to fly by? Soon, I was back at my desk sorting through yet another list of phone numbers.

Finally, another folder for the 'done' pile. From a distance, I heard the distinct sound of Lisa's Parah heels strike the floor. I looked up and saw her coming my way. Lisa was a goof. Girls that I worked with were laid off, yet Mr. Hudson kept her on the payroll. While no one could prove it one way or the other, the rumor was that Lisa was banging Mr. Hudson to keep her job. It sure wasn't her computer skills.

She walked up to my desk. "Hi, Lily. Ah, Mr. Hudson would like to talk to you. Oh, he wants the files on the Wilson sales, too."

"Wilson files? Aren't those a bit out of date?" I asked.

Lisa shrugged her shoulders. "That's what he said."

"When does he want them?" I asked as I turned around in my chair looking for the folder in my second file cabinet.

"Right now. That's all he said to me."

Lisa walked back to her office wiggling her tight ass back and forth like she always did in a pencil skirt so tight it looked like a second skin. Trouble was, there were hardly any men left in the office to notice her tight skirt and long legs. I gathered up the file, put the computer to sleep and walked toward the corporate offices.

Mr. Hudson is kind of like Santa Claus. You know he exists, and you see him once a year at the company Christmas party to slip some watered down eggnog.

You need to go through three secretaries to get into Mr. Hudson's office, which just seemed to enhance the mystery behind the man. The first two secretaries waved me by, a smile on the their faces, till I came to the last secretary. I didn't know any of their names, as most office staff aren't permitted in the corporate offices.

I couldn't quite make out the nametag on the desk, as it was turned to one side. I cleared my throat. "Lily Richards to see Mr. Hudson."

"Miss Richards. Yes, Mr. Hudson is expecting you. You did bring the Wilson files didn't you?"

I nodded and then held the file folder out in my hand. "Good," the lady said, "give the folder to Mr. Hudson. Let me buzz you in."

I walked up to two large cherry red mahogany doors with highly polished brass ornate door handles. A thick brass plate with the name 'Matthew Hudson' carved deep into the brass was mounted on one of the doors. I stood and suddenly the door buzzed and with all my might I pulled a door open.

I really didn't know what to expect. I held the folder up against my breasts and took a few steps in the room. I felt my heels bury themselves in the thick teal blue-green carpet. The same teal blue-green color the waves on lake Michigan make when they strike the rocks on a hot summer afternoon. I looked around. Floor to ceiling bookshelves on one side of the office were made of the same cherry red mahogany as the doors.

A quick glance to my left revealed a leather sofa, and a pair of leather chairs turned just so they pointed to the front of this massive dark walnut desk. A small desk light with a green glass shade cast a warm glow against the almost black wood.

The office was more like a suite, massive in size and luxury. It seemed as though time itself bypassed Mr. Hudson office. The room gave me the impression of an old English gentlemen's club. I was sure Sherlock Holmes and his friend Doctor Watson would emerge any second from one of the dark recesses of the room. A mystery a foot—ready to be solved. I could almost smell the apple blend pipe tobacco smoldering in his pipe.

I could see two massive darkly stained doors on what appeared to be the south end of the office. A large mirror with ornate edging was on one section of a wall. That mirror seemed so out of place in this room. It was as though the mirror was part of the wall. For some reason, that mirror gave me an unsettling feeling.

Mr. Hudson was watching a monitor; the light from it gave him an eerie ghost like glow. He was quite and I walked up and stood between the two chairs. I cleared my throat. "I have the Wilson files you wanted sir. I mean Mr. Hudson, sir." I felt like a kid talking to the school's principal at junior high. Christ, the guy scared me.

The muscles at the hinge of his jaw twitched a bit underneath his skin. "Thank you. Just place them on the right side of the desk."

I took several steps and leaned in to place the folder where he said. I caught his eye as he tried to cop a peek of my boobs between a gap in my shirt. I reversed my steps and stood in silence waiting on whatever else he wanted.

For seconds silence reigned.

"Is that all?" I asked.

Without looking up. "That's all Miss Richards."

I turned and made a few steps back to the door when I heard his chair move. "Miss Richards?"

"Yes, sir?" I said as I turned around.

"How long have you been with my company?"

"Almost five years, sir."

I could hear his fingers tap on a keyboard. "You're twenty-seven and single?"

"That's right. I have a boyfriend. As soon as things get back to normal, we plan on marrying."

"Ah, damn economy. You know what Miss Richards?"

"No sir?"

"Washington needs to get their heads out of their ass and get some jobs going in the country. That's what we need."

"I agree." I wasn't about to get into an argument about economics with him, and since you can't argue with someone who agrees with you, I moved my head up-and-down. "My boyfriend worked for Chrysler and poof, his job was gone, so everything came to a grinding stop. His unemployment had run out a month ago. I'm the bread winner now."

"We need jobs." Mr. Hudson said.

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Nothing else."

Somehow that brief conversation made me realize that Mr. Hudson really didn't like to lay his people off. I took a few more steps toward the door.

"Miss Richards."

I stopped and turned around. "Yes sir?"

This time Mr. Hudson moved from behind his desk. My eyes followed him as he stood in front of this desk then he sat on its edge. I guess Mr. Hudson was approaching sixty. He was in good shape for a man of his years. Clearly he didn't let just his money run his life. His Gray-white hair barely covered his ears and his dark brown eyes had a serious almost controlling look to them.

"Lily, you don't mind if I call you Lily do you?"

I returned half a grin. "No...no, sir that's fine."

"Good. Lily you're an attractive young woman."

My face blushed. "Come again?"

"We're both legal age and I'm not one to beat around the bush. You have a fine figure and quite frankly I'd like to more of it. As a matter of fact, I'd like to see all of it."

I damn near shit myself when he said that. My face must have turned bright beet red as I felt it turn white-hot. Yet I wasn't embarrassed, kind of flattered actually, but none-the-less my boss shouldn't be saying that to a female employee. "That's not really what we should be talking about," I said, "There're guidelines posted in the lunch room about sexual harassment." I tried to read his expression on his face. Right or wrong, I knew I was standing on thin ice and I could hear it cracking under my heels

Mr. Hudson moved his hands about in front of his body. His big hands were well manicured, well kept, and sported an expensive looking gold wedding band. "I'm not harassing you. I'm offering you a proposal. Call if an indecent proposal if you will."

Shaking my head, I looked at him in his expensive slacks and dark designer suit that seemed to blend into the room perfectly. My thoughts turned to Lisa. "I won't sleep with you."

There I said it. Boss or no boss. Job or no job. I could almost feel the icy water tickle my toes when the chunk of ice I was standing on gave way. I wasn't going to crawl into bed with a guy that was old enough to be my grandfather.

Mr. Hudson seemed a bit tense. Perhaps he wasn't use to being turned down. We both stared at each other when Mr. Hudson spoke.

"I'm not asking you to sleep with me. I'm not asking for sex."

Now he looked fragile as though his ego was badly bruised from my sharpness. "Go on," I said half interested, "If you're not wanting sex, what then..." I ran out of words and looked at Mr. Hudson.

"My wife Barbara and I have been married for over forty years. I want to stay married to her. I have two daughters, one will be graduating this spring from college, and I'm not going to throw all that away for a quick fuck on the sofa."

I covered my chest with my arms. "What do you want?" I have to admit my interest was piqued.

"When Barb went through midlife crisis, well let's just say the well dried up. We'll have sex now and then, but for her, it's just part of her wifely duties. She'd just as soon mow the grass than have sex. Now, don't get me wrong we both love each other deeply. I'm just not quite ready to toss in the towel just yet."

Mr. Hudson moved his head side-to-side. "I know things don't work like they use to on me either." He smiled. "I'm getting old, too."

I pressed my weight onto one foot. "But, you didn't say what you want."

"It's simple. I want to watch you undress."

"Here?" I asked almost falling over from the shock of his answer. Actually, I almost laughed at him.

"Yes, right here in my office."

I shook my head, and then shifted my weight onto my other foot. "I don't know. Undress as in everything?"

"Correct. I want to watch you undress and then dress. I appreciate the female form."

Moving my head side-to-side. "That's all?"

"There's a bit more than just that," he said.

"Oh, there're strings. There's always strings aren't there?" I said with a bit of sarcasm in my voice

"Just a few," he replied, "I'll touch you in certain places, I'm sure you'll know where, and you'll touch me."

Oh, Christ I thought. Mr. Hudson has some issues. On second thought, he's fucked in the head. I stammered my reply back.

"Mr. Hudson, I-I-I can't-can't. Why-why don't you just go to the Holiday Inn by the airport and let a lady of the evening take care of your needs?"

"Discretion. I need absolute discretion, Lily. If word got out or if I'm seen with a lady of shall we say less than honorable intentions, well let's just say that's not an avenue I want to drive down."

Between the chitchat and the proposal offered, I've been standing in Mr. Hudson's office for about ten minutes. We both could see that something had to give. Mr. Hudson looked at the clock on his desk, the second hand clicking down time. "Ask me any questions you have. When you're done asking, you'll have thirty seconds to decide. If you don't want to partake of my offer, then this conversation never happened and you can go back to work without worry of repercussions from me—"

"But?" I broke in. "You'll fire me if I don't agree."

"You've been here long enough to know I'm a man of my word. If you choose to pass on my offer, then you pass. Several of your co-workers have agreed and they all seemed pleased with the arrangement."


"Discretion, Lily, is paramount. I won't tell you who, they won't tell you either. And if you agree, nothing that happens in this office leaves this office. You are never to tell a soul. Is that understood?"

"Yeah, but—"

"Ask anything you wish, but after the time is up, and you are still standing here, then that will tell me you have agreed to my terms."

I felt my stomach turn and it seemed that the once cool room had suddenly become stuffy and hot. Perhaps it was my own body betraying me. I felt a tingle between my legs. The thought of stripping out of my business attire in front of Mr. Hudson clearly was tempting, and I just couldn't put my finger on it as to why I thought so.

I cleared my throat. "No kissing," I said.


I shook my head a few times. "No sex—just touching—that's all."

His answer seemed to come slowly as though he was thinking about what I said. "Agreed."

"Does everything come off?" I felt my face turn red on that one. The heat from my body seemed to increase.

"Yes, everything comes off and you will undress in the order in which I desire. You will stand nude before me as I look upon you. Agreed?"

I nodded back ever so slightly as I tried to think of more questions, but for the life of me my mind seemed to come up blank. Then it hit me.

"What's in it for me?" I asked as I shifted my weight back to my other leg.

"I will compensate you quite handsomely."

"How handsomely?" I asked. My words came out sharp and clipped.

"I like that. Right to point. I knew you had a good head on your shoulders. You're a job class eight. Would one week's salary be a good starting point?'

My ears couldn't believe what they just heard. Half my salary would be nearly five hundred bucks. "Yes, it would be a good place to start," I said.

Mr. Hudson smiled. "Any more questions?"

Try as I could I couldn't come up with any.

He pulled the clock over so we both could see the second hand tick. We watched it till the hand hit twelve. "You have thirty seconds to decide."

I was frozen. My feet wanted to dash out the door, but somehow the idea was intriguing not to say the least was the money. Fifteen seconds left. My throat seemed to tighten cutting off my breath. I watched Mr. Hudson, his demeanor signaled nothing except that of confidence. My eyes followed the second hand as it counted down. Four, three, two, one. I was still standing in front of Mr. Hudson. I could have run then, but I knew I'd have to keep running right down to the unemployment office as Mr. Hudson was not a person to be told one thing then have it change.

"We have an agreement then?" he asked.

"Yes, we do." My words came out hollow and so weak and they seem to simply fall from of my lips and onto the carpet in a whimper.

Mr. Hudson smiled. "Good choice." Then he walked back behind his desk and turned the light down. "Please, stand between the two chairs."

Christ, I thought, that was quick. I somehow managed to move closer to this desk and took a few steps back. I turned around. My heart was pounding. My hands wet with perspiration. I stood before him with my hands down by my sides. The hem of my tan skirt just touched my knees. I wore a white shirt, and underneath I had on a pastel yellow bra. My fingers barely touched my thighs and the cheap drug store suntan pantyhose that covered them. How did I know this morning that I'd be standing in front of my boss ready to strip out of my clothes. I felt my head spinning. I stifled a laugh. I wished I had worn nicer undergarments.

He folded his hand together, his thumbs nervously tapping themselves together. He leaned out a bit. "Take your panties off."

I swear for a moment the irises darkened with something primitive. My heart stopped and I sucked in my last breath. I stood there frozen. My hands were unable to move.

"Miss Richards, we do have an agreement don't we?"

I squeaked out a faint "Yes." I felt like I just ate a butterfly sandwich. My stomach growled.

He restated his command. "Take your panties off and place them here on my desk."

Those words that came from out of Mr. Hudson's mouth shocked me at first. I paused, looked at him sitting behind his desk, then I shook off my left heel and using my toes I pushed the heel of my right shoe from my foot. I heard his chair groan and when I looked up, I could see the moue expression on his face.

"No. No. No. Not like that."

I stood quietly in my stocking feet. My toes wigged into the plush carpet.

"It's all right," he begun, "I forgot this is your first time. Put your shoes back on."

I reached down and slipped my toes back into my heels.

I don't know why, but I straightened my skirt, knowing damn well in a few minutes I wouldn't be wearing it.

"Skirt first." He directed.

Make that seconds. My fingers moved behind my back and as I was just about to scoot it around my waist he stopped me.

"No. From behind."

Christ, he's picky. I reached behind and my fingers worked on that damn little metal hook and when I felt it pop, I pulled the zipper down. I watched his face light up while the sound of a zipper releasing metal filled the room. I felt my skirt bag around my waist and I held it up not wanting to let it drop.

"Step out of it."

I raised one foot then the other and stepped out of my skirt. I presented him with his trophy. I was standing in front of my boss, my skirt in my hands. He gestured with his hand and pointed to one of the chairs. I draped my skirt over the back.

"Your heels, now, but don't kick them off, take them off by hand one at a time."

I raised my left foot up to my right knee and slipped my heel off. I wasn't wearing what you could call a 'high heel' as they were only a couple of inches tall. They were just a pair of black pumps. I placed it carefully down on the carpet then did the same for my other heel. I could see where this was leading. The old guy got off watching. I place my shoes by the chair.

"Your hose now," he said. His eyes were glowing. "Slowly," he said.

I hooked my fingers into the waistband of the cheap pantyhose I wore, then pulled them down my waist, down my hips—"

"Slowly," he commanded

I slowed my pace and as sensually as one can take pantyhose off, I pulled and nudged them down my thighs, to my knees. I figured I'd slip them off the same way as I did my heels and that seemed to work as I caught Mr. Hudson smiling when I pulled the hose free of my toes. I tossed them on top of my skirt.

In bare feet, a shirt and my panties, he looked at me and I knew he didn't need to tell me what came next. I slipped my fingers into he waistband of my white nylon boy shorts panties, sucked in a breath and pulled them down to my knees as slowly as I could, never breaking eye contact with him. The crotch popped out between my legs with a subdued snap. Oh God I wanted to die. As I pulled them down, a small pelt of brown fur about a wide as the palm of your hand was exposed.

I did it. I stood there with my pussy hairs showing, my panties to my knees.


I looked up and I felt like a small fish and this shark was going to chew me up then spit me out. He just stared at me with my panties at my knees. Then with a slight movement of his finger I knew he wanted them off.

"Place them on my desk." His voice seemed rather whispery. "Lay them out as though they were on your body."

There I was. Standing in front of my boss with my pussy showing, my small forest of brown pubic hairs seemed to have his undivided attention. My panties were soon on his desk, spread out for whoever happened to come in. Mr. Hudson sat back in his chair, a look of victory on his face. His eyes seem to be locked onto my bush. As stealthily as I could I slipped a hand in front of me.

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