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al and mary


I'm a freelance consultant in the area of computer software
development. Call me Al. I normally work for large corporations
on a contract basis for a few months per stint. I recently
moved to New York from the San Francisco area, and since
I was starting in a new city where I had no business contacts,
I was forced make use of contract placement companies,
also known as "headhunter agencies". These are middlemen
who try to get contracts for people like me in return for
a cut of the money. They way this works is that after the agency
gets me a interview that results in a job, I sign up as an employee
of the agency, who then bills me out at a higher rate to the
company where I actually work. It's a sleazy business,
but without more contacts here I have to work this way.
I got my current contract through a smallish agency. While
working on this contract, another agency called me about
another position that was somewhat more lucrative. After
interviewing at the new company, I was offered a contract.
Now, my existing contract was a typical one in that it was
open-ended and could be terminated by either party with
two-weeks' notice, so, barring any major pay raise from
my current job, I planned to quit my old job and accept the
new one. In keeping with my usual policy in these cases,
I told the new company I'd sleep on the decision and get back
to them the next day. <br>
I then left and called the headhunter agency that currently
represented me to inform them that I probably was going
to take the other job. The headhunter there tried to persuade
me to stay at my current position. My early termination
would mean a loss of revenue for the agency, so her reaction
was predictable. <br>
However, I told her that barring an increase in my billing
rate, I was going to take the new job. With that she put me
on hold, and when she came back, she explained that the agency
couldn't get any more money from the company I was working
at, but that Rachael, the owner of the agency, would be willing
to take less of a markup and give me a raise rather than lose
the contract altogether. When I asked how much of a markup,
the headhunter said that Rachael wanted to discuss that
with me personally. When I explained that I was going to
make my decision by early the next day, the headhunter put
me on hold again and when she got back on she said that Rachael
would be glad to talk to me later that day, if I could make
it after work. <br>
I was willing to do that, and so we set up the meeting between
Rachael and me 6:00 PM that evening. Although I'd never
actually met Rachael, I had spoken to her on the phone a few
times and remembered her as being businesslike, professional,
and most important, reasonable. I was hoping I could get
enough money out of her to make it worth my while to stay at
this job, since the new position, though more lucrative,
was less interesting. I would never admit that to Rachael,
of course. <br>
It was Friday evening, and by the time I was able to show up
at the agency the door was locked and everyone who worked
there was gone except Mary the receptionist who let me in
when I knocked and, presumably, Rachael. <br>
Now, I was familiar with Mary from all the times I had come
by to pick up my paycheck. She was in her early twenties and
quite attractive, with shoulder-length, stylish blonde
hair and a very sexy, slim body. She was about 5 foot 2 or 3
and had firm, perfectly sized breasts -- not too large and
not too small. She was outgoing and flirtatious, and every
time I saw her she was wearing very stylish and somewhat
revealing clothes. <br>
That day she was wearing a silky, button-down blouse with
the neckline open low enough to show off a hint of her gorgeous
cleavage. Her bra was either quite sheer or non-existent,
as I could make out the contours of her breasts and nipples
through her blouse. She had on a calf-length skirt with
a slit halfway up her thigh. It was really tight around her
hips and ass and was thin enough for me to faintly glimpse
her skimpy, dark bikini panties underneath. She had on
a pair of high heels and, as always, wore little or no makeup.
She looked even sexier than usual, which is saying a lot.
As I often did, I wondered how she got away dressing that
way in an office environment. <br>
Mary buzzed Rachael to tell her I had arrived, and when she
got off the phone she said that Rachael was on an important
phone call hoped it would be OK for me to wait 20 or 30 minutes.
I said it was, and Mary said that Rachael wanted me to know
that she really appreciated me coming by and told Mary to
do whatever she could to make me comfortable. <br>
She asked if I wanted coffee or soda or anything, but I thanked
her and said I really didn't need anything. She smiled and
raised an eyebrow when I said that. I ignored that and told
her that since it was late she didn't have to stay on my account.
She thanked me quite nicely but said that she had to stay
late anyway and work. I made a sympathetic comment about
Mary's bad luck at having to work late on a Friday, and this
led to us making small talk for a few minutes. <br>
On previous visits I often found myself staring at her sexy
body. I'd always try to be discreet, but sometimes she would
still catch me staring, to which she'd react with a coquettish
smile. As we sat there chatting she once again caught me
staring at her, but this time she raised her eyebrows, licked
her lips, and languidly turned towards me, slowly pushing
her chest out as she did. Although her movements were subtle
and ambiguous enough for her to deny if confronted, this
was still more flirty than she ever was with me in the past,
and I choked on my words for a moment in surprise and arousal.
She just laughed sexily and then resumed talking to me as
if nothing had happened. <br>
Now, this both turned me on and made me nervous, and I tried
to hide my confusion and arousal as we spoke. I doubt I did
a very good job of it, but if she noticed, she didn't let on.
After a few minutes of our idle chatter I had more or less
calmed down again. Mary finally gave me a fake-sad look
and said in a deliberately childish, pouty tone of voice
that she had to get back to work. As she walked back to her
desk, I could see her perfect ass straining sexily against
the material of her tight skirt as she unabashedly swayed
her hips. I'd never seen her do that in my presence before,
either, but then again, I couldn't remember if I had ever
seen her doing anything other than sitting at her desk.
Dismissing her sexy antics as insincere, immature flirtation,
I plopped down on the couch in the reception area to find
something to read. This didn't prevent me from continuing
to stare at her ass until she sat down, however. The exagerated
way she moved her hips was turning me on, and I decided to
enjoy it while I could -- i.e., while her back was turned.
Despite my intention to not take Mary too seriously, I couldn't
help but wonder if perhaps she was trying to get my sexual
attention. For a moment, my mind drifted off into a fantasy
of her slowly stripping for me as I watched from my vantage
point on the couch. <br>
But then I sobered up and reminded myself that she probably
had dozens of boyfriends and there was no way she'd ever
consider a 37-year-old, slightly flabby, balding guy
like me. I thought back to what life was like when I was her
age, and I had to admit to myself that I'm too shy and nervous
around women to ever have stood a chance with someone like
her even back then. A woman as attractive as her could easily
afford to be as picky as she wanted, and I'm sure she'd have
no time for my insecurities and shyness. I sighed and forced
myself to stop thinking those grim thoughts and to just
enjoy her flirting and her sexy body while I had the chance.
And I was getting ample opportunity for that right then.
I guess she didn't have to man the phones after hours, and
instead of sitting at the recetionist's desk she was working
at one of the headhunters' desks typing on the word processor.
From my seat in the reception area I had a really nice view
of her profile as she sat there and worked. I took advantage
of the view whenever I thought she wasn't looking. <br>
Although she was quite a sight, I didn't want to appear too
lecherous by just staring, so I looked around among the
magazines nearby and tried to find something worth reading.
The pickings were rather disappointing, and I was trying
to figure out which of "Business Week" and "Forbes" would
be less boring, when suddenly Mary piped in with, "If you
want something more interesting you can read my 'Cosmopolitan'".
I laughed and said, "I'm not sure if that would be an improvement
over this shit." <br>
She gave me another of her flirty looks and replied, "Oh,
c'mon now, Al. Do you mean to say that you'd rather read about
the stock market than to look at the sexy women in Cosmo?"
Her comment caught me off guard -- she sure was being flirty.
Covering up my surprise and embarrassment I answered,
"Oh -- you mean in the ads? I must admit that I have a hard time
thinking of a woman as sexy when she's blatantly advertising
clothes or perfume -- or any product for that matter. It
sort of detracts from the whole thing, you know?" <br>
I was proud of myself for hiding my surprise so well with
my somewhat glib, and actually quite honest reply, but
my pride was short lived, as Mary quickly flabbergasted
me with her reply: "Oh. I guess I know what you mean. So how
about if I go downstairs to the newsstand and get you a 'Penthouse'?
Those women aren't advertising anything ..." her smile
became devilish, "... and besides, they're naked. I think
you'd like that a lot better." <br>
I felt a wave of arousal and surprise. Although she's a flirt
and a tease, this was a bit much even for least compared
to anything I'd seen her do in the past. The only thing I managed
to stammer was "Well ..." before she turned towards me.
She lifted her hands to her blouse as if she was about to unbutton
it, and she said, "Or do you prefer the real thing? I'm not
wearing a bra." She paused, raising her eyebrows, and looked
at me with an intensely serious and provocative expression
and with her hands poised ready to open her blouse for me.
She kept that pose and just stared at me as wave of anxiety
and arousal swept through me. <br>
I was speechless and must have looked like an idiot with
my mouth hanging open. After a few seconds that seemed an
eternity, she slowly lowered her hands, and still staring
at me intently, she said, "I'll get you a 'Penthouse', "
and got up. <br>
I shook my head disbelievingly and stammered to her to sit
back down, but before I could stop her she had sashayed out
the door, her hips swinging even more blatantly and seductively
than before. <br>
I was dumbfounded. What was going on? Why was she acting
this way? Mary was getting me sexually excited, but I was
also getting nervous and scared. I'm quite insecure about
sex and I always feared beautiful women -- they always seemed
to be so confident and so sure of their abilities to get men
to do what they want. And I have always been especially vulnerable
to that sort of manipulation due to my sexual insecurities
and low self-esteem. What did she want, anyway? I couldn't
imagine she would want to be this sexual with me just for
her own pleasure, and I tried to figure out what might be
her ulterior motive. <br>
Could it be that she was working in cahoots with Rachael
and was somehow trying to seduce me to stay with the agency?
That seemed likely, but I couldn't imagine what Mary would
get out of it. With Rachael, it was obvious: as the owner
of the company she would profit from my staying on and continuing
to generate her percentage of my take. But what about Mary
and her paltry receptionist's salary? Did Rachael offer
Mary a commission to persuade me to stay? If so, did she tell
her to use sex? Or did she just ask Mary to be charming and
is this all Mary's idea? <br>
I figured it was likely that Mary _was_ doing this for the
agency for some sort of compensation -- probably monetary.
I got more than a little bit angry at Mary's manipulation,
and I decided to give her a piece of my mind when she came back,
and I started rehearsing what I was going to say to her. But
as I did, I began to have second thoughts. Mary had turned
me on a lot and part of me -- a _big_ part of me, I grudgingly
admitted to myself -- wanted more. I became quite scared
as I realized how much I wanted her to continue with her manipulative
seduction despite the fact that it may not necessarily
be in my best interests. <br>
I kept trying to convince myself that I wasn't going to let
her get away with this, but my heart wasn't in it and I finally
gave up fighting myself. I decided to just let whatever
happens, happen. After all, even if I decided to stay on
at this agency for my current salary, I still was doing just
fine financially. And besides, I knew I wouldn't give up
the new job just for some cheap flirting -- Mary was going
to have work for her money. I at least had enough self-control
to hold out for that...or at least I hoped so. <br>
So I began to get excited about playing hard to get and seeing
how far Mary would go, and I tried to imagine what might transpire
once she returned. But then I had another thought: what
if she was just going to give me the magazine and then go back
to work? What if I was assuming too much about her? Maybe
she really _was_ trying to be friendly and that was it. After
all, Rachael _did_ tell her to make me comfortable, and
perhaps the flirting and the 'Penthouse' were simply a
product of Mary's overzealous desire to be helpful. <br>
Or worse yet for me, what if Mary was indeed trying to seduce
me, but suppose she just gave me the magazine and then waited
for me to make the next move. Most men would catch the hint
and be all over her, but I'm so damn shy and insecure that
I'd never have enough guts to try anything with her -- even
with a lot of encouragement. Making a pass at a woman is the
most terrifying thing I can imagine. A psychologist would
probably say its a phobia with me, as is anything involving
my being sexually agressive and taking those kinds of risks.
And so I feared that if she wasn't extremely aggressive,
and I thought it quite unlikely that she would be, I would
sit there like an idiot like I usually do in these situations
and blow the whole thing. <br>
So instead of being happy with anticipation and looking
forward to playing hard to get, my mood deteriorated to
one of despair and helplessness. This always seemed to
happen with me when I had a chance to make it with a woman,
and I cursed myself for being so neurotic. <br>
I no longer wanted to be seduced. I felt so confused and out
of control that I didn't think I could resist her charms
and act in my own best interests any more. I feared succumbing
to whatever it was that she might offer me, and then agree
with Rachael to terms decidedly to my disadvantage. I felt
naked and scared. In the back of my mind I realized this was
illogical, but my fear was so strong and I felt so vulnerable
that I couldn't make logic prevail. In a state of near panic
I vowed to resist everything Mary might do. <br>
Just then the door opened and Mary flounced back in. She
made a point of locking the door behind her and winking at
me, and then she plopped down on the couch next to me. She
gave me a lewd smile and started slowly reaching into a bag
she had with her. But before she got very far, I blurted out
in panic, "Wait, Mary, wait." <br>
She stopped reaching for the bag and slowly lowered her
hands to her lap and gave me a questioning look. She stared
at me patiently while I struggled with myself. She didn't
seem the slightest bit upset or even surprised at my obvious
anxiety. Finally, under the pressure of her stare I started
talking, trying to get her to stop flirting with me: "OK,
Mary, uh, look ..." <br>
"Yeah?" she queried with a friendly smile.
I was getting more and more confused and panicked. All Ihad to do was to become cool, thank her for the magazine,
and then ignore her. But that sort of thing takes composure
and at least some strength and confidence. I had none of
those right then, and so I just helplessly pleaded, "Like,
uh, why, Mary? Uh, why are you doing this?" <br>
She looked innocently surprised and asked, "'Why'? I'm
not sure I know what you're asking. Why did I get you the magazine?"
"Well, uh...yeah...I want to know that, but also ..." it
was hard to get to the point -- I didn't know how to say I suspected
her of trying to seduce me. What if I was wrong -- what a fool
I'd feel like then. So I lamely continued my question: "...
I mean, why are you...are you, you know ... being this way
with me?" <br>
"Well first, " she replied cheerfully and without hesitation,
"I got you the magazine because I thought you'd like it ..."
('Like hell!' I thought suspiciously. 'You got it to seduce
me. And cut out the fake innocence.' But I didn't have enough
guts to actually say anything like that to her) "... but
I'm still not sure about your other question, " she was
saying. "Are you asking why I'm being nice to you?" <br>
She seemed a little hurt, but I didn't believe it. I wanted
to say, "No. I'm asking why you're being such a slut with
me. Did Rachael put you up to it? How much is she giving you
for this?" But instead, all I could get up enough courage
to say was, "Well...yeah ..." I was whining "... I mean,
you've never been this...this nice to me before and...and,
well, I'm a little surprised and...and, well, I guess I'm
just wondering why." <br>
Never missing a beat she replied, "I want you to enjoy yourself,
Al." She lowered her voice and gave me a provocative look
and continued, "I'm just trying to help." <br>
I suddenly noticed that despite my panic and anger, she
was starting to turn me on. She looked so sexy there right
in front of me, and her flirty moves were having their effect.
But I forced myself to ignore that and snapped back sarcastically,
"Right. And this is just all out of your altruistic love
for your fellow man." <br>
She was totally unfazed by my anger and her demeanor became
more serious, although no less provocative. She calmly
answered, "Not really. I'm not a self-sacrificing person
and I don't do things that aren't in my own best interest."
I had thought so! Her true nature just came through: tough
and self-serving. I no longer doubted she was in cahoots
with Rachael. "So what _is_ your interest here?" I snapped
back. "Surely it's not because you want ..."
I started choking on my words, because I couldn't bring
myself to say "want my body", even in the negative context
I was trying to use it. That's how deep my phobia about making
sexual advances is. <br>
She kept her serious, provocative gaze on me and interrupted,
"It doesn't matter what I want -- what's important right
now is what _you_ want." <br>
Damn it, she was a pro! I was ambivalent, caught between
wanting to get out of there and wanting to stay and get swept
up in Mary's apparent seduction. If we started focusing
on what _I_ want, she'd use my ambivalence to twist me around
her little finger. <br>
I felt desperate to get off of the subject of what I want and
said, "But Mary, it _does_ matter what you want, because
..." <br>
She interrupted again. "No, it doesn't matter. I'm _very_
capable of taking care of myself and of getting what I want.
You needn't be concerned about that. All you should think
about is what _you_ want ..." <br>
I felt weak and powerless, and I didn't know what to do next.
I was actually trembling with fear and I'm sure she saw it.
My panic increased. <br>
Mary had only paused a second and then went on, "... and I
know what you want, Al." She stared into my eyes for a moment
and she no doubt saw me weaken. I felt a wave of despair as
she said, "You want to see some pictures of naked women, "
and a wave of sexual arousal went through me. Her expression
told me that she knew then that I would stay for anything
she had to dish out. So much for my vow to resist her. <br>
She shifted her position on the couch next to me -- she got
up on her knees and then sat on her calves facing me. Her skirt
was bunched up a little bit and it rode up an inch or two above
her knees. She reached into the bag, bringing out a 'Club'
magazine and said, "I thought you'd like this better than
'Penthouse'." She tossed it on my lap, saying, "It's much
sexier." <br>
I had to admit to myself that she knew what she was talking
about. I'd spent many an hour masturbating to the pictures
and pornographic stories in 'Club'. This masturbation
of mine was quite private and quite intense: I would get
lost in hot fantasies, sometimes for hours while teasing
and stroking my cock, balls, and body. I felt quite vulnerable
and was terrified at the prospect of her finding out how
much I loved to play with myself that way. I was glad Mary
had tossed the magazine on my lap, since I wanted to make
sure she couldn't see the hard-on that was beginning to
rise in my pants. <br>
On the cover of the magazine was a very sexy, shapely blonde
woman wearing only a G-string. Her palms covered the fronts
of her bare breasts, but only enough to hide her nipples
and not much more. The crotch of the G-string was a small,
frilly, black triangle that barely covered her pussy.
This photo turned me on quite a bit, and I made a mental note
to get a copy of this issue to take back home with me that night.
Speaking slowly, softly, and deliberately, Mary said,
"She turns you on, doesn't she?" <br>
She startled me and I jumped in my seat. Reflexively I said
no, but Mary just looked at me like she knew I was lying. Her
gaze was strong and unwavering and I broke down and stammered,
"Well, yeah, I like her." <br>
"So lets have a sexual fantasy with her, Al."
I was flabbergasted and I looked up at her with pleadingconfusion in my eyes.
"Come on, Al, " she shrugged with mock non-chalance, "it'llbe fun."
I was terrified. "Well...I, uh...I don't know...maybeI shouldn't ..."
She ignored my protests. "I love sexual fantasy, " shesaid cheerfully and with more wholesome-sounding naivete
than I could believe. "Come on, Al, let's have one now. Rachael
won't be done for at least 15 minutes." <br>
"I don't can you be sure that she ..."
"I know, Al, " she interrupted. "Rachael won't be freeuntil at least 6:30."
I noticed it was then 6:15. Mary's certainty about thisreinforced my suspicion that Rachael and she were in this
together. No doubt they arranged for me to be alone with
Mary until 6:30. <br>
Despite these thoughts, I still found myself wanting to
be seduced. This scared me, as a part of me feared what I was
letting myself in for. The conflict was beginning to drive
me crazy. "I don't know, Mary, " I sighed. "I's
nice of you to offer... _very_ nice of you, as a matter of
fact ... it's just that...well... right's
so ... so public, and...uh ..." I looked down and let my words
trail off. I was paralyzed with indecision and fear. <br>
After letting me sit there like that for a moment, Mary suddenly
said, "Al ..." the fake wholesome sweetness was completely
gone from her voice and she spoke with strength and more
than a little sexual power. <br>
I looked up and when our eyes met she continued "... I can
tell you like to have sexual fantasies when looking at magazines
like this ..." <br>
I sighed defeatedly. I didn't want her to know that.
"... and I think you'd even like it better with me helpingyou."
She waited for my reply, but all I did was sigh and gesturehelplessly. Finally, she went on, her voice low, sultry,
and almost threatening: "You want to...much, much more
than you're letting on, Al. We both know you'd love it."
"Well...I guess so, " I murmurred.
"I _know_ so, Al." She paused, boring into me with her gaze.I squirmed uncomfortably, but finally decided to acquiece
to her. What harm would there be in looking at the magazine,
I thought to myself as I hesitantly nodded my acceptance.
"So look at her, Al, " Mary said, the matter now settled.
She pointed to the sexy woman on the cover of the magazine,
still on my lap. "I can tell you like her." Her manner was
slow and deliberate, and she never lowered her eyes from
mine. "But don't you want to see her naked?" <br>
I smiled sheepishly and nodded. She saw my reaction but
she pretended not to have noticed it, and she continued,
a bit more insistently, "Wouldn't you like to see her naked
breasts, Al? Don't you want to see her nipples?" She emphasized
the word "nipples" and pushed her chest out slightly. The
motion was subtle, but she did it slowly without lowering
her gaze from mine, which made it impossible to ignore.
I couldn't help but lower my eyes to Mary's chest, and I then
noticed that her nipples were erect. I caught myself and
quickly looked back into her eyes, hoping in vain that she
didn't see me gaze at her breasts. But she was just staring
at me with a knowing, confident look that made me gasp.
I suddenly panicked and looked away, down at the magazine,
back at her, off into space, and back at her again. As soon
as our eyes finally met again, she said, always slowly and
deliberately, "And don't you want to see her pussy, Al?"
She paused, staring, and then continued, "Wouldn't you
like to look up between her legs and see her crotch -- her
naked cunt?" <br>
With those words Mary again made a slow, subtle motion,
this time shifting her weight slightly so that her legs
spread apart a little bit. I found myself looking towards
her well-covered crotch as her hemline rode up maybe a half
inch higher on her thighs. But I couldn't see up her skirt,
much as I wanted to. <br>
Again I went into a panic as I realized that she knew I was
staring. I was getting quite scared, but also rather aroused.
After our eyes met again, she said, always slowly and deliberately,
"I know you want to see her, Al. Here ..." she picked up the
magazine, revealing the bulge in my pants. She made a point
of looking down at it and then slowly raised her intent gaze
back to my eyes. She said nothing about my erection, but
her gestures were enough to let me know she was aware of it.
She continued, "... let me show you where she's posing nude."
She thumbed through the magazine until she found what she
was looking for, and then she laid it back down on my lap.
The model was in a bedroom setting, totally naked, bending
over the top of the dresser with her ass pointed out at the
camera. There was a mirror behind the dresser which showed
the model's naked breasts. She was looking in the mirror
right into the camera with a nasty, lewd expression on her
face. One of her hands was on her ass cheek, pulling it open.
Never ceasing to speak slowly and deliberately, Mary said,
"Look at her nipples." She paused a moment and continued,
"And what an ass she has! Do you like her ass, Al?" <br>
Mary looked at me, waiting for a reply. I was practically
paralyzed with terror, but I swallowed thickly and managed
to force myself to say, "Yes, I" I couldn't bring
myself to say the words "her ass". <br>
"What a hot fantasy woman for you, Al! Imagine being there
with her... staring at her naked body. She doesn't mind
... she wants you to stare. She's posing for you...right
there in front of you...naked, spreading her ass for you.
See how she's looking at you? She knows how much she's turning
you on. She's telling you something, Al. Do you know what
she's saying?" <br>
", um...I...I, uh ..." I stammered, nearly unable
to speak but realizing that I was starting to enjoy what
Mary was doing to me -- in spite of my nervousness. <br>
"She's telling you she wants you to take out that big, long
cock of yours and jack off for her." <br>
I sighed nervously.
"She wants you to, Al. She knows how much you love to jackoff and she wants to help you. She does, Al. She wants to play
with her fuck her asshole with her finger... and
to look you deeply in the eyes and talk really dirty to you
... to tell you what she's doing to her tell
you to keep stroking that hot penis of yours." <br>
Mary paused. I looked up at her, the beads of sweat starting
to drip down my forehead. She stared right through me. I
couldn't hold her gaze and I looked down at the picture and
then nervously around the room. <br>
"Look at her, Al, " Mary whispered throatily.
I looked back down at the picture, and she said, "I bet youlove jacking off to photos like this."
I gasped and went into a panic, stammering idiotic-soundingdenials: "No, uh...not really... I mean...well, it's
not ... I ..." <br>
She softly but firmly interrupted me, just saying "Al"
and staring at me. I stopped my yammering and she continued,
a bit more deliberately and intensely, "You love how it
feels to squeeze and stroke your cock while looking at her,
don't you, Al?" <br>
I started my protests again, but before I could say much
she cut me off: "Don't deny it, Al. I know you do." She stared
at me, waiting for a reply. <br>
I sighed and tried to deny what she was saying, "'s
not what you think...really it isn't...I mean, I guess
I sometimes...well... Mary, damnit, this is so difficult
... don't you understand that ..." <br>
She cut me off in mid sentence, ignoring everything I was
trying to say. "Your long penis feels so good when it hardens
in your hand, doesn't it, Al?" <br>
Damn her! But I was paralyzed with fear. I hadn't wanted
her to know about my masturbation, and I felt totally demoralized
to see how much she was able to infer. All I could do was stare
at her with my mouth open, my semi-hard cock twitching under
the magazine on my lap. Despite my fear I was intensely aroused
and mesmerized by her. <br>
She continued, slowly and deliberately, never lowering
her gaze from my eyes, "Yeah, you love feeling it get hard
as you stroke it. You tickle your balls with the fingers
of your other hand. You spread your legs wide and you thrust
your hips in rhythm ... in rhythm to the way you squeeze your
prick with your fist. It's all covered with oil and you slide
your hand up and down your burning, hard shaft as you pump
your wet, spurting cum all over her ass." <br>
I was trembling and nervously fidgeting under her gaze.
After a pause of a couple seconds she continued, "You love
to do that, Al, don't you?" <br>
I looked down sheepishly. She quietly said, "Look at me,
Al." I looked back up into her eyes and she continued insistently,
but still slowly: "You love making sperm come out of your
penis, don't you?" <br>
I murmurred, barely audibly, "Well, I ..."
She interrupted, even more insistently, "Yes you do, Al.You love shooting it out all over the place. And you like
to watch your penis as your semen spurts out. You stare at
that creamy, white, thick sperm all over your penis, slowly,
thickly oozing down all over it. Your sweet penis gets so
wet and slippery, and you love playing with your sperm on
you... rubbing your fingertips in it, smearing it into
your soft, slippery penis." Another slight pause. "You
do that, don't you, Al?" <br>
I was almost beyond resisting. She had me mesmerized and
quite aroused. I managed to feebly protest, "
I guess...well, some of what you said, anyway, but ..."
"All of it, " she corrected. "Every thing I described.
Don't deny it, " she said over more of my protests. "You
can hardly wait to get home, open up the magazine to this
picture, and take out your cock and jack off -- just like
I just described. Don't deny it, Al. I know you can hardly
stop thinking about what your sperm is going to look and
feel like all over your dick when you make yourself cum."
"Mary, please ..." I protested feebly, the words choking
in my throat. <br>
"It's OK, Al. I understand." She spoke more softly and kindly.
"Really, Al. Now listen to me." <br>
She paused and I looked at her to hear what she had to say.
"You're embarrassed and scared of what I know about you, "
she continued. "Most men don't like women to know that they
like to masturbate. They think it makes them less virile
and macho. Well, Al, I don't care about any of that. Whatever
you like to do to yourself is just fine with me, believe me."
I nodded, although I was quite skeptical. She went on, "So
Al, I understand how nervous you are that I know about your
masturbation, but I assure you I won't tell anyone. Not
a single person, Al. I promise." <br>
She seemed sincere, but I didn't trust her. I'm sure my skepticism
showed on my face, because she continued, "No, Al. Really.
I really mean it. I give you my most solemn assurance that
I'll keep my word and never betray you." Her voice became
an intimate whisper: "It'll be our secret, Al -- our intimate,
totally private little secret." <br>
She leaned forward and touched my arm. "I'm glad I know some
of your private pleasures, Al, " she whispered. "It's
so special, so exciting to have someone with whom you can
share your forbidden secrets." <br>
She moved really close and whispered very, very softly
while staring into my eyes. "Such sweet secrets, Al: all
alone at home, nude on your bed, your eyes closed, your penis
all covered with oil. It feels _so_ good to slide your fist
up and down your slippery, hard shaft... ohhhhh, so _good_
... imagining that woman in the magazine...that nude woman
... standing over you...making you jack off for her...making
you pump out all your sperm...such intimate, hot, _nasty_
secrets, Al." <br>
All the while I was staring, dumbfounded. She put her arms
around my neck and said, "You love your sperm, Al, " as she
slowly brought her lips to mine and kissed me long and deeply.
After she was finished she breathed, "Yeah, you _do_ love
your your sperm, Al...and your penis. It's OK. Don't worry,
baby, it's our secret. Your sperm ..." she kissed me "...
and your _sweet_ penis ..." she kissed me again "... are
our private ..." another kiss "... intimate ..." and another
"... hot ..." and still another "... _nasty_ little secret."
With that she pushed me back down on the couch with her on
top of me, this time hotly embracing me and squirming on
me as she pushed her tongue down my throat and passionately
kissed me for at least a minute or two straight. At first
I resisted, however feebly, but soon I was tightly embracing
her, fondling her ass, and grinding my cock against her
willing groin. <br>
After I was drunk and dizzy with desire she stopped and got
up off of me. As I panted and slowly dragged myself up off
my back, I noticed that Mary seemed totally unfazed. She
was quite calm and collected as she said, "Take off your
clothes and masturbate for me, Al." <br>
Still recovering my wits, all I could do was feebly grunt
an incoherent protest, which Mary brushed aside with,
"I like having a man jack off in front of me." <br>
She gave me a slight leer and paused to let her words sink
in. I would willingly masturbate for her, but not here...not
with Rachael around. I was almost started crying. "But
Mary ..." I stammered, choking on the words, "... please
not here...I'm so...I'm so...well, I'm kinda scared and
..." <br>
"You're more than 'kinda' scared, Al: you're terrified."
I swallowed and nodded. It was all I could do. She continued,
"I want you that way." <br>
I looked up at her, surprised and pained. "It turns you on
when you're scared, Al, " she went on, ignoring my pleading
gaze. "Being scared makes you _more_ turned on. Right?"
I looked down and mumbled that she was probably right. "Don't
deny it, Al. You _want_ this ..." she paused until I looked
up into her hard gaze and then she continued, "... you want
this very, _very_ badly, Al." <br>
As she said that she put her hands on her breasts and slowly
lowered them down the sides of her body, her eyes boring
through me. "Feel the fear, Al, " she said after her hands
reached her thighs. She got up on her knees and leaned a little
closer to me, saying, "Sex scares you, Al." She grasped
each of my shoulders and moved her face closer to mine. She
licked her lips lewdly and demonicly, and then said, breathing
huskily, "I want you terrified, Al." She cupped my cheeks
in her hands and moved still closer, licking her lips, breathing
heavy, moaning, and making facial expressions as if she
was fucking me or masturbating. I'd never seen anyone act
so lewd and intensely arousing. My cock was hard in my pants.
She then said, "So scared...and so _hot_ Al! Feel the fear.
Feel how hot you are." <br>
She continued for a few more moments with this and then said,
"I've barely gotten started, Al. This is just the beginning."
She sat back and looked down at my lap. My erect cock bulged
up in my pants. "And look how hard I've got you already."
She looked back into my eyes and said, "Take off your pants
and jack off for me." <br>
I really didn't want to do it right there in the office with
Rachael in the next room. "But Mary, " I pleaded. "Not here
... not with Rachael ..." <br>
She interrupted, "Rachael won't come in. She'll buzz me
on the phone first. Don't worry. I meant it when I said I wouldn't
betray your secret. She'll call and I'll just tell her you're
in the bathroom ..." she paused for emphasis "... pissing."
She hissed out the word and then licked her lips. <br>
She paused for a moment, staring, and then continued, "It
wouldn't be far from the truth, you know." Another pause.
"I mean...if you _were_ in the bathroom, you'd be holding
your cock and watching your hot _piss_ stream out -- and
that's what you're going to be doing here, Al -- except it
won't be piss, of course." <br>
She got up and went to the chair across from me and sat in it,
facing me. She said, just as slowly and deliberately as
ever, "Now masturbate for me." I still did nothing, and
she continued calmly, "I know you want to." A short pause.
"You've been staring at my breasts all night." Another
pause. "I'm going to play with them while you jack off."
Always staring into my eyes, she slowly unbuttoned her
blouse and let it hang open. She raised her hands to her breasts
and slowly began to caress and tease them. <br>
"Touch your dick, Al, " she said, but I still tried to protest.
"Tease it... tickle it...come on...I know you love how
it feels in your hand. Don't you want to hold your penis,
Al? Look at my nipples -- all erect and hard like that hard
meat of yours. I know how sensitive your penis gets when
its hard like this. Come on, Al, " she begged mockingly,
still squeezing and caressing her breasts as she stared
into my eyes. "I know how badly you want to slide your hand
up and down that rigid prick of yours...milking pleasure
into it... milking the cum out ... _squeeeeezing_ it so
good like you love to do." <br>
I still was struggling between wanting to run away and hide
and taking out my cock and furiously stroking it for her,
and I did nothing. She stopped rubbing her breasts and said,
"Maybe I should show you how to do it, Al." She reached into
her purse and brought out a rubber, two-headed dildo. Its
color, texture, and look were quite lifelike, although
it was at least a foot long. She put it down next to her on the
chair and then unzipped her skirt about halfway up and opened
it wide. <br>
Never lowering her gaze from my eyes, she slowly spread
her legs, exposing her naked crotch, and she said, "I took
my panties off when I went out to get you your jack-off book,
Al. Look at my hairy cunt." I noticed that she wasn't a real
blonde, but it didn't matter. The sight of the dark pubic
hair covering her moist pussy really turned me on. <br>
She picked up the dildo and held it out for me to see. "This
is _my_ penis, " she said in her slow, deliberate manner.
"Watch me play with it." With that she grasped it around
the shaft with her two hands so that both of its heads were
visible. She slowly lowered it down her body, rubbing one
of the heads against her breasts and nipples, and then her
stomach, groin, and to her pussy. All this time she kept
intensely, seductively gazing into my eyes. I was mesmerized
by her. <br>
She then positioned one of its heads between her legs, and
holding it completely still with the other head pointed
out at me, she pushed it inside of her by slowly grinding
and gyrating her hips. Keeping a firm grasp on it with both
hands, she began to fuck herself with it solely by moving
her body -- not the dildo. Never lowering her gaze from my
eyes, she slowly and deliberately bumped and grinded,
the now moist end of the dildo pushing rhythmically, hotly,
and hypnotically in and out of her grasping pussy. After
a short while, she increased the pace of her gyrations,
but not too fast and still very deliberately so as to maximize
the effect she was having on me as I watched her. <br>
All the while she kept her eyes glued to mine, and I found
it more and more difficult to resist stroking my cock as
I watched her sexily writhe before me, the dildo sliding
in and out of her thrusting crotch. Soon she said, "Look
at my cock, Al. See it sliding in and out of my cunt." With
that she lifted herself up slightly so that only the head
of was in her, and she rotated her hips, making the dildo
bend and squirm. She said, "Oooooooh, _fuck_ me!" and sat
back down so that the dildo slid way up in her. She repeated
that sequence a few times, each time making me less and less
able to resist touching and squeezing my own cock. <br>
Then, she stopped and let go of the end. About half of the
dildo was in her, leaving about 6 inches or so sticking out.
The lifelike dildo looked like a cock sticking out of her.
She just sat there for a minute so I could stare at her. <br>
Then, she squirmed out of her blouse and stood up, unzipping
her skirt the rest of the way and tossing it on the chair behind
her. She was totally naked now except for her high-heeled
shoes and the end of the dildo sticking out of her. "Look
at my cock, Al, " she said, reaching down with one hand and
lightly tickling the shaft and head of the dildo with her
fingers. "It's so sexy, isn't it?" <br>
It indeed was, but as soon as I realized that, a wave of fear
shot through me: that penis-like thing turned me on, and
I suddenly worried about being gay. This homophobic fear
had a strange effect on me: it aroused me intensely -- much,
much more than I could sublimate or deny. The more I realized
how much I liked looking at that penis, the more aroused
I became in my fear. My cock grew rigid and pushed the front
of my pants out noticably. <br>
Mary seemed to be aware of the effect this was having on me.
"Look at my penis, Al, " she said. She moved her hips from
side to side, causing the cock to shake, too. Watching it
wiggle, I felt a palpable surge pulsate through my penis
and groin. I'd never before experienced such a pronounced
reaction in my penis without touching it. It felt as if I
could almost cum just from watching Mary sexily making
her penis-like thing move for me. This homosexual response
scared the hell out of me, and my arousal grew with my anxiety.
"Let's touch our cocks together, Al, " Mary was saying.
"Come on, " she said with a seductive, mock-pleading tone,
"Don't you want to get nude with me and rub our penises together?"
I was beyond speech by this point. Besides, I'm sure Mary
intended it to be a rhetorical question. <br>
"I want to touch the head of your dick with mine, " she continued.
"Ohhhh, yeah -- so good, so hot -- right on the tip where your
sperm comes out... yeah! Just sorta..._push_ 'em together
..." She moved her hips to illustrate how she was going to
push. Another spasm went through my penis and groin, this
time causing me to close my eyes and moan sharply with pleasure.
"Oh _yeah_ Al, " she panted seductively. "Feels so damn
good inside your dick, eh? Well this ain't nothin', Al.
We've barely gotten started." <br>
I smiled weakly.
"Now get up and get nude, " she demanded suddenly. "_Now_Al!" she ordered, when she saw that I was still hesitating.
I was no longer able to do anything but obey her. As I nervously
fumbled with my shoes, socks, pants, shirt and finally
my underwear, Mary was saying, "I want to rub the head of
my cock down your your balls...oh yeah,
it feels so good to rub our penises together...I'll push
my head right there on the base of your cock...right there
where the bottom of your penis meets your balls...I'll
rub it right there, right where you first feel your cum flowing
up the inside of your dick...push a little there... then
slide it back up the underside of your penis to right under
the rim ... on the bottom there right where it meets your
shaft... and push on it there a little, too ..." <br>
She removed the dildo, turned it around, and put it back
inside of her with the heads reversed. The one that was previously
in her was now pointing at me -- I could see it shine with her
juices. <br>
"It's all wet now, Al. My hot penis is all wet and slippery
for you... so slippery against your dick, Al. Come on, damn
it!" she said insistently, "Hurry up and take off those
underpants and come over here, " her voice was filled with
seductive, mock urgency. "I can't stand it any more -- hurry
up and let me rub my hot, wet dick against yours...yeah...
so slippery and throbbing...oh hurry...rub your cock
on mine ... PLEASE!" <br>
I was finally out of my clothes and I stumbled to her...I
was dizzy with lust and couldn't stand well. "You're too
tall for me, " she hissed, as she stood up on her toes and
pretended to be surprised that our penises still could
barely touch. "My dick won't reach yours, damn it! Lie down
on the floor...on your back...I want to kneel over you and
rub _dicks_", lewdly emphasizing the word "dicks" by leeringly
licking her lips as she hissed out the word. <br>
I was on my back in a flash and she was soon straddling me on
all fours, her dildo poised right above my rigid, throbbing
penis. Lowering it down against mine, she did pretty much
what she said she would: first she pushed its head against
mine and bounced very, very slightly. The sensations made
me gasp so loudly it was almost a yell. <br>
She then just started moving her hips from side to side,
causing the dildo to rub and glide against my penis. Our
shafts would meet and the slippery sensations drove me
wild. While she did this, she was rhythmically speaking
in a low, chanting, seductive whisper: "... ohhhhh...rub
it... yeah ... so hot...the shaft...oh, oh!...yeah...slippery
hot penis against mine...your big penis...look at our
penises, Al...yeah... so hot...makes you spasm...yeah...
penis spasm...yeah...such a long hard dick, Al...rub
our dicks together...please!...oh, love
dicks so much, Al...oh dick makes you so
long and hard...throbbing ..." <br>
She then leaned down and rested her chest on mine, holding
my arms down with hers. But she was still kneeling, her ass
up in the air and her dildo still rubbing against my increasingly
aroused cock. Rubbing her breasts against my chest as well,
and looking me deep in the eye from just a few inches away,
she said with a mock pout, "Oh baby, my dick is getting dry."
It indeed was. "Make it wet for me, honey. Please! Please
cum on my dick." She moved so that the head of her dildo was
at the base of my cock and its shaft was against my balls.
Slowly sliding the head of her penis-thing up the length
of my shaft, she moaned, "I want your _sperm_ all over my
big, long, huge, throbbing DICK!" <br>
Just as she said "DICK", the head of her dildo reached that
spot she described on the underside of my penis, right where
the shaft meets the rim. With that, I felt the first hot,
burning load of semen flowing up my penis and exploding
out of the head. As spasm after spasm of cum gushed out of
me, Mary kept lightly pushing and sliding her dildo all
over my penis. <br>
"Oh yeah!" she was panting in time with my spasms and moans.
"Gimme your sperm, Al. All over my hot dick. Yeah! Cum all
over my penis, Al. Ohhhh, so wet and hot. Yeah! More! Such
a hot penis...such a turnon for you to see and feel my penis
all over yours...oh love my penis... you love
looking at love feeling it...and you really love
cumming all over it...oh, what a sweet penis boy you are!"
As I came, I closed my eyes, arched my back, and tried to push
my cock up against Mary's dildo. But she kept wiggling and
sliding it all over my penis, which teasingly kept me yearning
for more. Even after I was spent, I felt like I hadn't really
finished. I yearned to squeeze my cock in my fist and tightly
pump it to satisfaction as I was accustomed to doing when
masturbating, but Mary was leaning on my arms and I couldn't
move them. <br>
After a while, I had drifted into a pleasant, post-orgasmic
daze. In the back of my mind I felt Mary get up off of me, but
I was half asleep and just lay there. As I sleepily reflected
on Mary's expert attentions, I noticed that every time
I pictured her with the penis-like dildo sticking out of
her, I'd become aware of a faraway feeling of arousal. I'd
experience the same feeling when visualizing my own cock.
Somehow, Mary had gotten me to be much more interested in
and focused on penises than I had ever been before. <br>
I still had a homophobic reaction to all this, but I managed
to rationalize it away by telling myself that being turned
on by my _own_ penis isn't homosexual, nor is being turned
on by a woman with a fake penis. <br>
"Don't fall asleep, Al."
Mary's voice startled me from my reverie. I shook myselfawake and looked up. She was holding her blouse in her hand
and had already put her skirt back on, and she stood over
me, her naked breasts hanging over my head. <br>
She jiggled them and laughed slightly, as if thinking of
a private joke, and then asked, "How does your penis feel?"
I reflexively looked at it, noticing the semen all over
it and my groin. The sight of it sent another vague sensation
of arousal through me, and for a second I just stared at it.
I really liked looking at it. Suddenly, I remembered that
Mary had asked me a question. I quickly looked back up at
her and said, "Oh...uh, wow! It feels _really_ good!"
Although I had only paused a second, Mary must have noticed
my reaction to seeing my cock, because she ignored my reply
and said, "See how much it turns you on now, Al? I doubt that
the sight of your penis ever got you _this_ hot before."
She paused and wiggled her breasts again. "And don't worry,
Al, " she continued. "This'll be our secret. Our hot, _nasty_
little secret." <br>
As she spoke, Mary began to lightly rub and twist her nipples
with her fingers. I stared raptly at her as she did this.
"They'd feel really good on your balls ..." she continued,
"... and in your ass hole. I'd like to fuck you in the ass with
my nipple, Al." <br>
As I kept staring, she silently continued to play with her
nipples above me until after a minute or so she suddenly
stopped and said, "Now you'd better get dressed. Rachael
should be off her phone call any minute now. Here, " she
said, reaching into her purse and tossing me her panties,
"wipe your cum off of yourself with these." <br>
I again snapped out of my reverie, dragged myself upright,
and wiped off my semen as best I could. She took the panties
back when I was done, saying with a wink, "I'll keep these
for you, Al. Later on we'll have some more fun with them."
"Uh, oh, OK, " I mumbled absently and started dressing.
I felt exhausted and quite fuzzy-headed, and I became quite
nervous about my meeting with Rachael. I couldn't think
clearly enough to negotiate well, and I was extremely worried
about the likely possibility that Rachael put Mary up to
her seduction of me. I felt out of control and vulnerable.
Suddenly, Mary's statements sunk in a little: she seemed
to be saying that she had more in store for me. As I buttoned
my shirt and tied my tie, I asked, "Uh, Mary, uh -- you kind
of implied that... that, well...that there's more stuff
we could do...I mean, I _think_ that's what it sounded like
..." <br>
She was buttoning her blouse. "You want more?" she asked,
sounding cold and detached, but with a hint of invitation
in her voice -- a bit like a whore fishing for more business.
"Well...yeah...I, uh...I mean, I'd _like_ maybe
do some more with you...I mean...I mean if you want to ...
uh, you seemed to imply that ..." <br>
"Well, Al, " she interrupted, somewhat more warmly but
still with unmistakable whorishness. "I'm sure we can
work something out... under the right circumstances I'm
willing to do a whole lot more with you." She smiled and her
voice became more friendly. "But for now, hurry up and get
dressed, " she continued. "We can discuss it later -- I'm
not going anywhare. You should go into the bathroom and
clean up a little. I'll tell Rachael you'll be right back
if she calls. Now hurry ... and unlock the door so you can
get back in." <br>
I was still too dazed to think very clearly, so I just followed
Mary's orders and went into the bathroom to wash up. Once
there, I noticed that I didn't look as dissheveled as I had
feared. My clothes had stayed pretty much unwrinkled because
I'd taken them off before getting down on the floor, and
all I had to do was wash my face and comb down my hair before
I looked more or less normal. <br>
The cold water on my face helped to get me back to an acceptable
level of lucidity, and I was then able to reflect on everything
that had happened since I arrived. I began to fear my meeting
with Rachael -- if she and Mary were working together on
this, I reflected, who knows what she'd lay on me in this
meeting. <br>
Actually, I had a way out -- I could just go home right then,
skipping out on the meeting. The thought was tempting,
but not as tempting as Mary, who had seemed to promise further
sex with me. Her whorish attitude led me to wonder if perhaps
she was some sort of hooker. I actually hoped she was, because
I had more confidence that I could get what I want from a woman
if its for money than for any other reason. The prospect
of somehow arranging more hot sex with Mary after my meeting
with Rachael was the only thing that kept me from running
away. Besides, I was feeling well enough to go through with
the negotiations -- or so I told myself as I walked back to
the office to face Rachael. <br>
Back in the agency, Mary told me that Rachael was done and
would meet me in the conference room. She led through the
main office into a corridor, her hips swaying seductively
as usual. As I followed her, I pictured the conference room
as one of those that are typically found in small offices
such as this one: a room slightly larger than a large office
with a table and a few chairs, and perhaps an overhead projector
or something similar. <br>
So I was quite surprised when Mary unlocked a door at the
end of the corridor and motioned me to follow her inside.
The conference room indeed had a table and chairs, and even
an overhead projector in a corner, but it was much bigger
-- and much plusher -- than I expected. It was more elegantly
decorated than any conference room I had ever seen, even
in the biggest of corporations. If it wasn't for the long
table taking up maybe half of the room, it would have looked
more like a plush living room in an expensive home than a
conference room. <br>
I gaped at the thick carpeting, the overstuffed chairs,
the lamps, the two large couches, the wide-screen TV, and
especially the bar against one wall. <br>
"What's the matter?" Mary asked, a playful expression
on her face. "You don't approve?" <br>
"No, not at all. Of course I approve, " I replied. "I'm actually
quite impressed. I've never seen a conference room -- or
anything in a corporate office -- quite like this. It's
... it's ..." <br>
"Elegant?" she offered.
"Quite so, " I replied.
"Well, Rachael believes in treating her clients right."Mary turned and winked at me, reinforcing my fears that
she and Rachael were in this thing together. "Now Rachael
will be here in a minute, so just sit down and make yourself
comfortable." She turned and started walking out. <br>
"Uh, Mary, " I called out. She turned seductively to face
me as she reached the door. <br>
"Yeah?" she purred.
"Well, uh, I'd like talk to you about...well, about..." My voice trailed off as my shyness returned. I wanted
to discuss the possibility of further sexual adventures
with her. As usual, I found it nearly impossible to bring
the subject up. <br>
"Don't worry, Al, " she interrupted, reassuringly. "I'm
not going anywhere, and we'll have plenty of time to talk.
Now just make yourself comfortable and Rachael will be
right in." With that she turned her back to me, pulled her
skirt up, wiggled her naked ass at me while winking over
her shoulder, and flounced out the door as her skirt fell
back down. <br>
Although I was sexually spent, at least for the moment,
this still was able to cause a faraway sexual reaction in
me. I sat down and took a few deep breaths. I didn't want to
be distracted during my negotiations with Rachael, and
I wanted to get them over with quickly and get back to Mary.
A minute later the door opened and in walked Rachael. Now,
even though I had spoken to her previously on the phone,
I wasn't prepared for how young she looked. From her demeanor
and the fact that she was the owner of this agency, I expected
someone maybe in her mid to late 40's, or possibly even older.
But Rachael looked around 35 or so -- and a very attractive
35 at that. She had medium-length, expensively styled
red hair, a sensuous and attractive face, was maybe 5'6"
or 5'7", and had a really nice figure. Her hips and bust were
full, but neither was too large, and I noticed she had really
nice legs. She wore an obviously expensive business suit,
but one that showed off her body to good advantage. <br>
I stood up and we shook hands, and she said, "Well, Al. I'm
glad you could make it on such short notice. I really wanted
to have a chance to try to persuade you to stay with us."
I liked her forthrightness. "Well, I'm glad, too. Although
the new offer is a really good one, I like my current job ..."
thoughts of Mary went through my mind and I added, "... and
I especially like this agency. I'd like to try to work something
out so I could stay with you." <br>
"Well, it looks like we have the same goals tonight, " she
said as she motioned me to be seated. I sat back where I was
before: on the couch to the far right against the arm rest.
She chose the seat next to the couch that was facing at 90
degrees to it. This put her left leg about three inches from
my right one. <br>
"But before we start, Al, " she continued, "Let me tell
you a little bit about me and about my agency." <br>
"OK, " I replied cheerfully.
She told me how she built this agency up all by herself intowhat it now is -- a $10 million a year agency that supplies
temporary office help and high-level consulting services
to major corporations. She's the sole owner of the company
and that there is no debt, and there was well-deserved pride
in her voice when she told me that. <br>
I told her how impressed I was at how well she had done, and
she received the compliment graciously and seemingly
gratefully as well. With that, she sat back comfortably
and gazed pleasantly at me. I was a bit at a loss for words,
so I just looked around the room, trying not to let my nervousness
show. <br>
"So, do you like our conference room?" she asked after I
had begun to get quite uncomfortable with the silence.
"Yes, I do, " I replied, grateful for her converstational
opening. "I've been in lots of companies, but I don't think
I've ever seen a conference room as elegant as this one."
"Well, I want my clients to be comfortable, " she replied.
"I think that the proper atmosphere can really be conducive
to good business relations. Don't you think so?" <br>
"Well, I guess so, " I answered. "I just think this is really
nice -- and I wish more businesses would take the time to
do things like this." <br>
"Well, they used to do that a lot more, say 20 or 30 years ago, "
she replied. "But nowadays everyone's in it for the fast
buck and they don't like to spend money on such niceties.
That's why this country is going down the shithole so fast
these days, I think." <br>
I was a bit taken aback at her use of the word "shithole, "
not because such language shocks me or because I think it's
unladylike or anything, but because it seemed a bit out
of character with the elegant, refined image she had been
conveying up until then. <br>
But more than that, I was impressed with her views about
American business and about the decline of the U.S.A. I
share her views and I have a hard time finding people who
agree with me or are even willing to discuss them. I guess
most Americans can't cope with the reality that the good
ol' American dream is pretty much dead -- or at least in a
rather advanced, comatose state. <br>
So, her comment sparked me to start talking about my opinions,
and pretty soon we were in a rather animated conversation
about this topic. As we talked I became more and more comfortable
with her and started to like her quite a bit. She was smart,
perceptive, witty, and quite sexy. I often found myself
staring at her legs which were crossed right in front of
me, and I couldn't help but notice her body, which seemed
relaxed and loose under her clothes. Most women in business
seemed so stiff and uptight, and Rachael's apparent comfort
with her body was a striking change from that. <br>
As we continued to chat, I began to notice that Rachael was
acting quite businesslike and I saw no evidence that she
had any knowledge of Mary's antics. This made me wonder
if perhaps I was wrong about Rachael having something to
do with Mary's behavior. Maybe Mary's actions had nothing
to do with Rachael wanting me to stay with the agency. At
any rate, I began to feel better about dealing with Rachael
as we continued to talk. <br>
After a few minutes of this, I had all but forgotten about
Mary. Those few times she intruded into my consciousness,
I just dismissed the thought about her with a reminder to
myself that she would still be

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