tagFetishWorking for Alex

Working for Alex


It was during my research with my latest project that I realized I needed additional assistance. While interviewing candidates, I first met Alex. The process of interviewing people is hard for me. My social skills are not the greatest because I'm basically very shy.

To make it easier, after reading all the resumes, I narrowed the applications down to three prospects.

Although my job is highly technical, the work I needed done was fairly menial. Basically, it consisted of typing and copying documents, filing, and some research. Since I am single and working out of my home, there was a certain amount of personal chores included in the job description—grocery shopping, dry cleaning retrieval, making meals, house cleaning, that kind of thing. Because I required personal chores I felt I had to offer a higher salary than minimum wage but that wasn't a problem, in fact, money wasn't a problem for me at all. With the amount I had inherited I could afford three or four people for years and not feel the pinch.

I hated mundane chores and avoided them whenever possible. Since it was my money, adding personal chores became part of the job.

Because some of the work required a basic knowledge of computers most of the candidates were young people, mainly kids just out of college. My expectations for quality people were not high. It definitely was not something one could do for a career.

The day I set aside for interviewing was a sunny one. After a couple of cups of coffee, I mentally prepared for the arduous ordeal. The first applicant came promptly at ten o'clock, a good sign as I'm a stickler for being on time. He was an awkward fellow from back East. According to his transcripts, he graduated somewhere in the middle of his class. A pleasant enough of a bloke, he unfortunately, showed absolutely no signs of any creativity. Ordinarily, I could overlook a handicap like that but he also seemed to lack any kind of motivation. After asking him about himself it seemed he had no higher goal in life than to play video games, so I bid him a fond farewell and scratched him off the list.

The second candidate was a handsome, charming young man. His school records indicated that it took him five years to get through college instead of the customary four. The explanation, he informed me, with a wide and charming grin, was that he minored in parties. "Almost my major," he said with a wink. His supreme confidence bothered me and I rejected him. Not because of his qualifications, those were fine, but because of the risk he posed.

The risk was mine.

Allow me to explain. A couple of years prior, I hired a young man, Todd, for help with another project. At first, he worked out just fine, in fact we became friends, or so I thought. After a few weeks, I felt so comfortable around him that I invited him to join me to a movie. We hit it off so well that soon we were going out to dinner every night, my treat of course.

Next thing I knew, he suggested bar-hopping and we were socializing around town, hitting the bars and nightclubs into the wee hours in the morning. In fact, because of the lateness, he often spent the night at my house, which was no problem because it is a rather large home with many bedrooms.

The overnight stays became fairly regular. I didn't think anything about it at first, but, as they say, familiarity breeds contempt. Eventually the time we spent together turned out to be a nightmare. What I didn't know about the guy was that Todd was a particularly domineering type fellow. Initially, this trait suited me fine because I'm the opposite, rather laid back to the point of going along with anything.

Before he even finished the day's chores, Todd started making plans for the evening. At first it was nothing more that choosing which movie we would see without consulting me. Then, he started making dinner reservations, always at the most expensive places. If I wanted to leave the bars early, go home and rest, he wouldn't let me, persuading me to stay until closing.

Eventually, the work suffered. Todd set his own pace, not living up to my timetables, dragging out the project much longer than it should have taken.

At the end of his term, Todd dropped a bombshell. Besides the dominant nature, it turns out he had a rather devious streak. On his last day of work, he threatened to reveal our homosexual liaisons. What he said amounted to blackmail.

What he wanted was a great deal of money.

The fact that there had been no occurrence of homosexuality didn't prevent him from the threat. With receipts in hand of every place we had ever been, it looked very much like I was paying him to stay with me. He insisted he could convince the people who backed my projects of my improprieties.

After considering all aspects, I decided that the adverse publicity might significantly harm my career so I caved in to his demands. He walked away with over one hundred thousand dollars. Part of me still cringes when I recall the way he intimidated me during the conversation.

I'll never forget the evil, sadistic smirk as he left.

The lesson I learned was to stay far away from charming, suave, manipulative guys. My inability to resist their powers of persuasion made hiring this guy too risky. These days I am very wary of the smooth types and this guy was definitely smooth. So he was out.

The final candidate was Alex. Before the meeting I reviewed the resume. The school records indicated that he was a good student, in the top quarter of his class. Activities and interests led me to believe that he was the type who would work out fine for the six months I needed him.

The doorbell rang and I answered the door. Standing in front of me was a very pretty young woman.

To my great shock I realized that I assumed Alex was a boy's name and not a girl's. In this case Alex must be short for Alexandra or something.

Alex was a girl!

As I stood there like an idiot thinking of something to say, she walked inside. Directing her to my office, she glanced around, giving the place the once over. The house is quite a display even if I say so myself. It should be; it cost enough. A small smile of satisfaction came over me as I witnessed the admiration she showed of the place, as she examined the leather furniture, the costly paintings, the antiques, the expensive grandfather clock and the various exotic knick-knacks.

Alex sat in the chair in front of the desk and I sat behind. Once we were comfortable, I took the liberty of checking her out. At first glance, it was obvious that she was very good-looking, beautiful in fact. She was about my size, five foot seven or so. Long, sandy-brown hair flowed straight down, with not a hint of curl, and settled an inch or so beyond her shoulders.

Even clad in a sort of loose-fitting summer dress I could tell that her figure was very nice, in the earth-goddess type, a sort of Beyonce body. There was a glow about her that exuded sensuality in a seductive way. Being somewhat of a leg connoisseur, my eyes checked out her lovely gams. To my surprise I noticed she wasn't wearing nylons, unusual for an interview I thought, but her tanned legs looked exceptional under her dress. The hem rode high, exposing thighs that were well formed, athletic and curvy.

My mouth watered and I had to make a conscious effort to close my mouth.

To keep from gawking at those lovely limbs I kept glancing down at the paper in front of me. I had to do something to keep my eyes from bulging out of the sockets. Between up and down glimpses, I checked out her breasts. Nice and full, not too large but not small either, they looked to be more than a handful but less than purchased. Her hips were just wide enough to be inviting and her rear end, checked out when she entered, was more than lovely—it was close to heavenly.

The first thing that ran through my mind, right after admitting that Alex was quite a beauty, was that she was definitely out of my league.

"Well, Alex," I said, attempting to sound cool and collected, "I see that you're qualified for the position, probably over-qualified." From practice I always paused at this point as though forming some critical determination. "What makes you think I should give the position to you as opposed to someone else?" The question was lame, but in my defense, my brain was overcome by its animalistic nature and wasn't functioning as a rational entity too well. The impact of her turning out to be a girl, and a stunning girl at that, had thrown me off my game.

There was something very extraordinary about her, more than just her incredible looks. She had a presence that filled the room. With a nonchalance that was beyond cool, she commanded the scene, possessed it like it was her own.

"I want the job," she replied, as if the simple explanation was all it took to get the position. Watching her carefully, I perceived a calm, quiet confidence, almost as if nothing could ever bother her, like she was a princess in some other life and accustomed to everything going her way.

There seemed no doubt in her mind that she was going to get the job.

"I see," I said, uncertain what to do at this point. "Well, I'll let you know tomorrow. I have other candidates to interview then I'll have to make the decision based on everyone's qualifications."

"No, that won't do," she said.


"That won't do," she replied, her eyes never leaving mine. The hypnotic aura cast by her lovely eyes put me off a bit. "I need to know now," she reiterated. "If I'm not going to get the job I need to make other plans."

Stunned by the abrupt reply, I sat in a daze. Breaking the trance of her penetrating orbs, I peeked down at her exquisite form. The first thing I noticed was that she wasn't one of those women who used her legs to influence a man. Instead of crossing one over the other and swinging it to draw attention, luring the eyes to the blessed gams, she sat rather manly in the chair. Her feet were not together in that lady-like manner; they were flat-footed and spread apart, just a little. Once again I noticed that she wasn't wearing nylons. Her tanned legs looked deliciously gorgeous, the kind you would like to lick all the way to the top. The fact that she was without proper stockings suddenly seemed rather exciting for some peculiar reason. The image of an earth goddess returned. She seemed so natural, so unmade-up, and so authentic. She quite bewitched me.

"I see. What, if I may ask, is your rush?"

"I need a place to live. I moved out of my boyfriend's place last night. Since I don't have any transportation I want to live someplace close to where I work." Although her frankness was unusual, I found her honesty to be very compelling.

"I see." My comment, neither glib nor astute, was nonetheless all I could manage to get out of a throat choked beyond speech and a brain benumbed beyond reasoning. It seemed that the ability to articulate anything worthy of intelligence was simply beyond my current capabilities. With the articulateness of a mime, I assumed the awkward position of the village idiot. Frankly, I felt out of place as if I were visiting a strange country. No one has ever turned me so inside out before, with the possible exception of Todd.

"I'll tell you what," I struggled to say. "Normally, I don't decide so quickly, so impulsively, but you seem exceptionally qualified." Her eyes cast her spell further. "So I'll offer the position to you now. That is, if you'll accept." My acceptance of her request fell just short of begging her to work for me.

Nodding slightly, she didn't seem overly grateful; the casual movement with her lips wasn't exactly a smile. It was as if she was taking my humble proposal as her due.

"Good," she proclaimed. "Now, I have to look for a place." The announcement was uttered as she rose. The bottom part of the causal sun-dress parted as she stood, exposing a lovely and generous view of an exquisite thigh. The skin was firm, tanned, taut and sensual. Obviously, she worked out a lot. She caught me staring and I reddened in response.

"Where do you suppose you'll look? I mean for a place," I asked too quickly, wanting to divert the attention from my lecherous eyes.

"I don't know," she responded. "Do you know any places around that will take me on credit?"

"Oh. You don't have any money then?"

"Not until my first paycheck."

"Well, I suppose I could advance you a month's salary," I muttered quickly, too eager to help. I was so embarrassed. "I don't usually do this," I mumbled as I got my checkbook out.

"A check's no good. I won't have time to deposit it. Do you have enough cash to cover it?"

I looked up. Her manner wasn't flirtatious or the giggly sort that a lot of young women toss about. Her confidence and straightforwardness was unique for one of her age. It was an honesty born of unpretentiousness.

"I guess I could advance it in cash." Ignoring a cautioning conscience, I walked to my hidden safe, on the far side of the office, behind a picture on the wall. As I opened it, it dawned on me how exposed I was. Without thought or consideration to the risk, I had revealed the location of the safe, opened it before her and showed everything within it. Because I work out of my home I carry much more money than I should. At any given time I might have thousands of dollars, perhaps as much as a couple of hundred thousand.

"Listen," I said, the beginning of an inspiration forming in my bewildered brain. As I gave her more than two thousand dollars I continued, "If you want, and don't take this the wrong way, you can stay here for the night." Flustered, the words poured out. "I have plenty of rooms, too many, in fact, and they never get used so it would be no trouble whatsoever. That way we could get an early start in the morning and then you could look for some place tomorrow." As I listened to my own sales pitch, I was aware of how pathetic I sounded. I was almost pleading with her.

She considered the proposition for a moment before assenting. "Why don't you show me where I can stay?"

Like an overly-eager puppy, I led her to a room down the hall from mine. Normally, I reserve the room for my agent, as it is the second nicest one in the house. Besides my agent, the only other person who ever stayed there was Todd. He started out in one of the smaller rooms but within a week, without asking, he took the better one as his own. At the time I didn't say anything, thinking I should consider myself fortunate that he didn't want my room.

"I need a bath," Alex announced almost as soon as we entered the room. "Would you be a gentleman and fetch my bags from the foyer?"

Without a moments hesitation I scampered back down the hallway and out to the foyer. Hauling the suitcases to her room I knocked softly before entering. This room, like the master bedroom, had an adjoining bathroom. The water was running and the door was closed. For a moment I considered unpacking her bags, just to get a look at her clothes but recognized the gesture could be too easily misinterpreted.

After Alex bathed and changed her clothes she joined me in the expansive living room. As I impatiently waited, I opened and started drinking a glass of expensive wine. Sipping on the pleasant grape, I wondered what I had gotten myself into.

When Alex walked in I noticed the drastic change in apparel. Wearing a more formal outfit than the simple sun-dress, once again I was stunned by her appearance. A sleek, black dress hung down to just above the knee. Two, thin straps over her shoulders held it up. A rather spectacular display of a magnificent cleavage was easily seen. The fabric gripped her voluptuous body, as if molded to the curvaceous shape, accenting her gorgeous figure in a way that illustrated every part of her without seeming too tight. It was undoubtedly the most tantalizing sight I had ever been privileged enough to see.

"You're dressed. I mean you're dressed so nicely," I stammered. The effect of the striking attire was immediate and consuming. She seemed more like a Greek goddess who deserved homage than a lowly assistant.

"I thought you might like to take me out to dinner," she suggested.

"Certainly," I agreed, jumping at the wonderful opportunity, chastising myself for not thinking of the idea first.

Hastily phoning ahead, I managed to get reservations at the best restaurant in town. They knew me there and promised a table as soon as we arrived. Once there, I slipped the maitre'd a Benjamin to get the best table.

The dinner was excellent even though I stumbled through most of the conversation. For some inexplicable reason, I was unable to relax around her. She stayed in complete control of herself however, as nothing seemed to faze her.

Alex nibbled on a salad and drank sparingly. To mask my boorish behavior, I consumed enough alcohol for the both of us. My normal shyness and lack of sociability was not enhanced by the libation but it did loosen my inhibitions.

After inhaling the better part of two bottles of wine, Alex drove us home, thank goodness, and I struggled to bed.

The morning arrived much too early for my aching head. It had been some time since I had overslept. Parts of a vivid, erotic dream rolled around just outside the periphery of consciousness. My head throbbed as I made my way to the bathroom. A hot shower helped clear some cobwebs but what I really needed was a few aspirins and some scalding, strong coffee.

After the medicine and the coffee, I wandered back to my office. Peering around I say no sign of my new assistant. Settling at my desk, coffee in hand, the first thing I did was list the basic duties I expected of my new employee.

An hour later, Alex joined me. She sat down without so much of a hint of an apology for being late. With no words passed between us, I handed her the list. To her credit, she started right in.

While finishing up some trivial paperwork, I kept an eye on her. Nothing seemed too difficult and she spent the morning completing the tasks. Toward eleven, Alex informed me she was taking a break and with coffee in hand, left the office for the living room.

Through the doorway, I could just see her posed on the couch in front of the fireplace. At first, I was a bit surprised that she settled in the living room as it made her seem more like a guest than an employee. Being the polite person I am, I let the lapse in proper etiquette pass.

As I observed, Alex pulled a magazine out of her purse and casually leafed through it. After a minute, she placed her feet on an ottoman nearby and studied her hands. Reaching for her purse, she removed a file and began working on her fingernails. My work momentarily forgotten, I watched intently as she smoothed the rough edges away. When she was satisfied with the results of the scraping she brought out some nail polish. With elaborate concentration, fingers pointing out, she painted the nails. There was something about the deliberate focus on her face that enthralled me.

After the fingernails were finished and dried, she flipped her sandals off and examined her toenails. Displeased with the appearance, Alex bent over and busily applied a coat of polish.

My mouth suddenly went dry. As I observed her efforts, I couldn't help noticing that her dress, another soft-fabric sun-dress, rode high upon her thighs, almost to the edge of her panties as she performed her task.

My little guy rose to attention. The view I was treated to was nothing short of stunning. I was blessed with the glorious sight of the most exquisite legs I've ever laid eyes on. My work abandoned, completely forgotten, I gaped with mouth open wide, staring at the wonderful sight of those magnificent limbs. Long, sensual, smooth, enticing, they were simply luscious.

With patience, Alex worked on the nails, her face intent on the task. Obviously, I couldn't take my eyes off of her feet and legs. It was as if I was under some spell that she had cast over me, ensnaring me in the charms of her magnificent limbs. Nothing could break my gaze at the lovely picture I viewed. The artful and beguiling performance was exquisitely captivating.

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bycolleenslittletoy© 3 comments/ 52083 views/ 18 favorites

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