I am not your ordinary girl next door…..It is my intention to make you swoon!
I knelt on the bathroom floor, trying to remove the bubblegum Penny had stuck under the sink. She’d been sullen and bored since she’d arrived, but I didn’t expect outright disrespect from one of Ms. Hawthorne’s guests. All the same, her instructions had been very clear, to “see that she has everything she needs to be happy.” She certainly didn’t need a lecture from me on office etiquette, let alone grade-school level courtesy.
My phone rang back at reception. Even though I rushed to answer, the call switched over to voicemail before I could pick up. I was stunned to find Penny sitting in my chair, going through my desk, and chewing a fresh stick of gum.
“Aw, too slow, Intern.”
I absorbed the sting of her superior tone while a pavlovian reflex straightened my back. She’d stumbled into the title Ms. Hawthorne used with me while I served her. I was stirred for a brief moment by delicious memories of our sessions together. It had made me wonder, though, what exactly she’d seen in Penny. She was gorgeous, of course, but she was also obvious and entitled. Her pop-princess bearing wasn’t borne out by charm or wit. The woman was an utter brat.
The phone crackled to life as the voicemail recorded.
“I’m surprised you’re not at your station, Claire,” Ms. Hawthorne’s voice admonished. “Call me back as soon as you get this message.”
I turned back to her.
“May I sit, Penny?”
She just turned her head then sat upright, patting her lap as an invitation. I was about to object when she cut me off.
“It sounds like you shouldn’t keep your boss waiting.” Penny’s gloating tone was irksome, but she was right. I shouldn’t keep Ms. Hawthorne waiting. Standing, I called her back right away.
“Ah good, you’re still there.” She was cold with a harsher edge than usual.
“Yes, Jean,” I said, “I’m sorry I missed your call.”
“I’m getting pulled into a late meeting,” she replied, ignoring my apology. “It’ll be at least another hour. See that Penny has whatever she wants.”
“Yes, Jean,” I acknowledged just as the line clicked dead. Even though it was only a slight infraction, I took the failing and the rebuke to heart. I hated to let Ms. Hawthorne down.
“So, she’s going to be late?” Penny twirled a strand of her blonde ponytail as she gloated.
“She has a late meeting, yes.” I leaned against the desk absently clutching my office lanyard. “I’ll make sure you have whatever you want while you wait.”
She cocked her head to one side, her smirk turning into a wicked grin.
“Well, that seems very clear to me.” She began to pat her lap again. “You know, Jean told me all about this place, and all the things you get up to.”
I’d imagined as much, since she was here at all. I wasn’t ashamed of my service to Ms. Hawthorne, but it also wasn’t something I broadcast far and wide.
“Is that so,” I asked, attempting to maintain my professional air.
“Sounds like a lot of fun,” she added, turning the office chair gently with her feet. “We should have some fun, don’t you think?”
Something changed in the curl of her glossy lips. Her eyes widened. There was even a glint of light off her black satin scrunchie. I noticed she’d been tracing the edge of her pink plaid pleated skirt for some time.
“Get me a soda, Intern.” She relished giving the order, but there was a hint of deeper sensual enjoyment in her voice. My gaze drifted up to the security camera in the corner of the room. Could this be Ms. Hawthorne’s ruse? I wondered if she might be watching us circle one another, sizing each other up. Almost as soon as they’d appeared, though, those thoughts flew from my mind. I remembered my pledge, my role. I serve her, my duty is to follow her will. It’s my pride and joy to do as she wishes, and to do it well.
I crossed the reception to the mini fridge concealed in the cabinet across from my desk. I felt Penny’s eyes on me as I walked. Her gaze wasn’t contemptuous any more, but admiring. She liked what she saw, and despite myself, I liked showing off to her. I crouched to fetch a can for her, knowing full well what would happen next.
“No, Intern,” she stopped me on cue, “not like that.” It was her voice, but they were Jean’s words, her commands.
I stood again, then, keeping my legs straight, bent at the hips to reach her soda. My pencil skirt tightened over my ass and rose to reveal the lace tops of my stockings.
“The cream soda, please,” she added. Naturally she asked for something from the bottom row. I obliged, bending further for her, for Jean, and for the sweet pang of subservience.
“Good, very good.” Her voice softened. Her expression was entirely changed when I turned back. She was nervous; excited, but unsure of herself. Things started to add up. The brash petulance had been a mask for her uncertainty. She tried to control the things she feared. Now, with complete control of me, she was insecure because she was still afraid.
“Ice?” I needed to play this game to the end. She’d intrigued me. When she nodded, I made sure to give her even more of my lean curves to admire while I stretched for the ice bucket on the top shelf. I kept my expression professional as I returned with a tidy tray of beverage preparations.
Most people don’t appreciate the power of true submission until they’ve witnessed it in the flesh. Penny, as it turned out, was having that very revelation with me; I had the power to grant her wishes. Perhaps for the first time, she wondered what she ought to wish for.
She was dumbfounded, a potent mix of conflicting emotions. That was what Jean had seen in her, why she’d sent her to me. She knew that I could teach her, demonstrate what comes of open acceptance of a person’s inner truth. Penny needed me, and I have to admit, feeling needed was deeply moving, and incredibly hot.
“You seem flushed,” I told her. Her cheeks blushed nearly as pink as her skirt. I set the tray down onto the desk in front of her and plucked an ice cube into my hands. Then I reached them out to her and asked, “May I?”
Again, she wordlessly nodded her approval. Her eyes glinted as she stared up at me. Slowly, I brought my cooled hands to her cheeks. Her skin was warm, soft, and inviting. If anything, her blush deepened when I ran my hands to the back of her neck. Her breath hitched as I came closer to her.
“Jean tells me what she expects of me,” I said, “and I serve her. It’s deeply fulfilling for me. You know our stories, so you know the lengths I’ll go to keep my pledge to her.”
I felt a thrill as I traced the gentle slope of her shoulders. Though her muscles were tense, she flowed like fresh cream. When I looked back at her, our lips were a hairs’ breadth apart.
“Tell me what you want.”
“I…” she whispered, “… kiss me.”
I leaned forward and our lips met. Goosebumps spread down my shoulders, tickling me under my clothes. She pulled away, then pushed forwards again, letting go of her doubt. Yes, she could have her way with me, but only if she were willing to dare, and only as far as she was brave enough to go. Once she found her footing, her boldness began to emerge.
My head began to swim with the sweetness of her kisses. Her candy-apple lip gloss teased me with nostalgic fantasies. It would have been so easy for me to let go. It could have felt so good at that moment. I was tempted, but I knew my duty to Jean, and to Penny, called for better self-control than that. She pulled back again, and I drew away to stand upright.
“Can I touch you?” she asked.
“If that’s what you want.” I was still swirling from her lips, but I didn’t let on. Pure polite professionalism was all I would show her, at least while we were here.
She reached out and gently touched my hips. Her hands were shy, almost reverent. They drifted down to my legs, then up again to my waist and my ribs.
“You like my body.” I didn’t ask so much as acknowledge it. She began to pull eagerly at the fabric of my blouse, testing my resolve and dipping her toe in the water. I leaned towards her and made it easier for her to slip her hand up my bare back. All the while, I fixed her with a polite, unflappable smile.
“I do,” she beamed, “you’re beautiful, and I want you. I’m just…”
She retreated but kept her hands in the small of my back.
“I don’t…” she paused again, lost.
“Ms. Hawthorne needs me to be sure you have whatever you want,” I couldn’t help but grin, “including me.”
I unbuttoned the front of my blouse and let it hang open. Undressing for her sent another thrill through me. I felt my lanyard dangling over my bare skin. Penny could plainly see that I wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Shit,” she whispered, agape.
“You’ve never had this kind of… fun… before, have you?”
“No,” she admitted, “I… it’s… no, I haven’t.”
I knelt in front of her and held her cheek in my hand.
“You can trust me to look after myself,” I assured her, “and to do my best to serve you well. I don’t always succeed, but I never fail for lack of trying.”
She looked down at my name tag, but it might as well have been miles away.
“I just,” she stopped, gathering her thoughts, “I’ve always fought to get whatever I wanted.”
“You don’t have to,” I told her, “but that’s a game we can play too, if you like.”
“I do,” she said, “just, not all the time, not for everything.”
She was a moment away from crying. I hid my surprise as best I could and let my blouse fall to the floor. Jean was clever, for sure. There was a lot I could give Penny, a lot she seemed to need from me. I couldn’t help but feel for her, and want to replace her sadness with pleasure, bliss, joy. It was up to her, though, to seek that, to drive us in that direction. Her challenge would be to ask, to reach out for what she wanted without the artifice of games.
She sat still for a long time, breathing a slow steady rhythm. Her eyes drifted over my bare skin. My nipples tightened in the cool breeze of the air-conditioning. The winking red light in the corner of the ceiling reminded me that we weren’t entirely alone. Though the carpet stung at my knees again, I would not stir until the moment was right.
Then she leaned forward, entering my personal space. She gently traced a line with her fingertip from my collarbone down over my chest. She kept exploring by wrapping her palm around my waist while she descended from the chair. With her free hand, she grasped the lanyard around my neck. She led me like a dance partner into her lips again. Those sweet kisses made me drift and float as she wrapped her arms around me. Her warm cotton shirt felt like home.
“I want you, Claire,” she whispered, as her kisses moved down my neck and over my shoulders. “Do you want me?”
“Yes,” I confessed, “I really do.”
“Even if I was a bitch to you before?” She pulled away from my skin.
“That doesn’t matter now,” I told her. I offered her my lips again. She took them tenderly, but with a deepening urgency. She pulled me by the lanyard again until I lay on top of her.
“Touch me,” she implored, pulling me back into a kiss. My hands and lips wandered her body, seeking out her tender, sensitive spots; under her ribs, just above her wrists, the nape of her neck. Her gasps and moans thrilled me with each new discovery.
“Jesus, Claire,” she giggled, “you are a naughty girl, aren’t you?”
“I’m a good little slut,” I said with some pride.
She pulled her shirt off over her head, setting her breasts free, then pulled me on top of her again. My head spun at feeling her skin against my own.
“Suck my tits, slut.” I felt a pulse deep in my core at her words. Instantly, there was nothing I wanted more in the world. I wrapped my lips around her pert nipple and sucked. She cooed and tensed as my hunger grew. Then her hands laced into my hair to guide me to her free breast. I loved feeling her body twist and turn beneath me while I pleased her.
“You’re right,” she told me, “you are a good little slut, Claire.”
Her praise whirled around me. I felt myself letting go, giving myself over to her.
“Please, Penny,” I asked, “call me Intern.”
She pulled me away from her chest, that wry smirk back on her lips.
“Lick my pussy, Intern.”
It was as though the floor dropped out from under me. The animal part of me pawed and pushed her body and fed on her sex. I wasn’t deciding anything, thinking anything at all. I just felt good, warm, desperate and ecstatic all at once. I remember the burn of clutching her skirt so tight in my fists, the squeeze of her thighs against my face. I can recall holding her wrists by her side and her moans getting deeper and darker. She trembled as I suckled and lapped her clit, pushed two, then three fingers into her, and indulged in the taste of her.
We blurred, melted together into a churning sea of sensory emotions. I let my body become the vessel for her pleasure as my mind was wiped clean of thoughts and cares. The haze fell over me, and I was gladly lost to it. She turned and rolled beneath me as her pussy squeezed my fingers.
Her eyes were desperately beautiful as she dangled on the edge of her orgasm.
“Claire!” she called, before she thrust me backward onto my heels. Her legs twitched and pulled, her abs crunched, and her face twisted in agonizing joy. I’d never seen aftershocks like that before.
“Penny?” I asked as she finally stilled.
“Claire,” she panted, returning from the brink.
“Intern!” Ms. Hawthorne demanded from the doorway.
I was on my knees before I’d decided to move.
“So,” she continued, “this is what you get up to when I’m not minding you myself.”
“Jean,” Penny began to protest, “we were just having…”
“Enough, Penny,” she scolded, “ I can see full well what you were having.”
“I apologize, Jean,” I began, “I must have misunderstood.”
“No, Intern,” she stilled me, “I’m sure you understood perfectly. I’m glad that you show such dedication to service.”
I smiled, the shock of the situation subsiding. Of course she could see what we’d been up to. I just couldn’t believe I’d been so lost in the moment that I hadn’t heard the door.
“You, though,” she turned to Penny, “must learn restraint and discipline. You had only to wait, to muster some patience until I could join you. Instead, you seduced my staff for your entertainment.”
Penny, who’d also risen to her knees, hung her head at this admonition.
“Since you’ve spoiled your appetite, then,” Ms. Hawthorne concluded, “I suppose mine is the only one left to be sated.”
Penny froze. Her knuckles blanched and her shoulders tightened, but she also bit her lower lip.
“Intern,” Ms. Hawthorne began.
“Yes, Jean,” I affirmed.
“Lock the door,” she ordered. “It seems you and I will be working late tonight.”
To be continued…
Want to join our exclusive SLAY VIP LINGERIE TRY ON HAUL CLICK HERE
Don’t worry your escapades are safe with us.
It is my intention to make you swoon!
View 2
View 3
