I didn’t often bother sorting through the resumes and CV’s of candidates, but I had a friend in the HR department that knew I wanted to hire a new personal assistant. Not that I particularly needed one, but the budget allowed for it and I was wanting a pretty face and a sexy body nearby.
He sent me one for a young girl. Her experience wasn’t very extensive, but she was only 19 years old – that was to be expected. Her educational background looked promising, though – good grades, attending university, membership in an honor society, etc. What sold me was the small Post It note my friend had left on the top of her resume:
“Short, sexy Indian girl.
Full breasts, long wavy hair.
Innocent eyes behind glasses – penultimate hot nerdy chick.
Absolutely would fuck. Trust me: hire her.”
I don’t think I can be faulted for taking my friend at his word. Wouldn’t you? He was right, too. She was the perfect combination of a desirable, gorgeous body and a quiet, gentle demeanor. Adorable and inviting. Exactly the kind of girl I’d love to bed. First day of work she comes in wearing tasteful black pants that were tight and form-fitting enough to show the promise and appeal of her luscious legs and the curve of her ass. She’d paired this with a fitting (but not especially tight) button-up collared peach shirt. Her hair was in a long but loose braid and reached just past the small of her back. Her lips were full and shaded with very little lipstick. As far as I could tell, she wore little other makeup. But her look, for my tastes, might be described best as beyond tempting. Unfortunately, she spent most of her first day with HR (I’m sure my friend was delighted) doing the generic paperwork and orientation. I saw her a few times and introduced myself (she stuttered awkwardly meeting her boss-to-be, a sign I hoped meant she’d be easy to sway to submission). However, at the end of the day she was sent to meet me for any particular instructions. I told her we were generally business-casual, and what she wore was fine – but that I’d appreciate seeing her in a dress if she had some.
The next day? She came in wearing a short, black dress. Not short enough to be inappropriate for work, but short enough to leave me thinking of how she looked without it. It ended past mid-thigh, and was fairly loose. I called her to the office and directed her to do random, unnecessary tasks several times during the day – simply wanting to see her walk around in front of me, bend over, reach. When she’d bend over, I’d admire her sexy ass and how high the edge of her dress would rise. When she’d reach, I’d enjoy the curves of her breasts. Those breasts were quite full. C-cups? I thought it likely.
She seemed surprised when I asked her to stay late, but didn’t seem to mind. I assured her she’d be paid for the extra time, and waited patiently for the rest of the office staff to leave. When I knew we had the floor (and likely a good portion of the small office building) to ourselves – I acted.
I had her bring a report to my desk and stand next to me on the right. I opened it, flipped threw a few pages, and pointed at something obscure. I motioned for her to lean in. And when she did? I placed my right hand on the back of her thigh and quickly moved it upwards. She made a slightly uncertain sound of protest, but froze. My hand kept rising – traveling up her smooth legs until it found the soft, tempting flesh of her ass. I didn’t have to see to tell she was wearing bikini panties. How…adorably innocent. My fingers kneaded the flesh gently before going ahead and pushing the dress up higher. Ah – grey bikini panties. Surprisingly simple, but moments later they were being pulled down her legs. By this point she finally seemed to recover her voice.
“Mr. Taylor, I… I don’t want to do this. HR says this isn’t allowed.”
By the time she finished those brief sentences, her panties were around her ankles.
“Step out of the panties for me, dear?”
She looked shocked, her face some mix of confusion and fear, but she obeyed my instructions.
“Good girl! Now, take off your dress for me.”
Now, she seemed to find more willpower. She shook her head – slowly at first, but soon more firmly. Her braided hair bounced around slightly with her movements. When she tried to step away, though, I grabbed her hand firmly. My other hand reached behind her back, found the zipper, and made quick work of pulling it down. I had to stand up and grip her more firmly with both hands while awkwardly working to force her out of the dress. Despite her resistance, I managed. God was I glad when I did. Her body was a work of art. Soon to be MY work of art. Her bra was a simple white cotton affair, but I managed to unhook it and force her out of it as well despite her increasingly insistent fighting and resistance.
“Niki, sweetheart – let’s be clear here. I don’t really need a secretary. I need a piece of eye candy that I can enjoy during the workday, and fuck senseless when the day ends. That’s you. So – you can either give in, or I can give you a lesson with force. I don’t have a preference which way this plays out. I just want to claim the pleasures that gorgeous little body of yours tempts me with.”
She whimpered, but by the end of the short speech she was struggling far less. Good… That would make things simpler. I didn’t waste time – my belt was open quickly. My suit’s pants were unbuttoned and unzipped a few seconds later. My pants fell down with a slight push, and my boxers went down with them. My cock? It had been erect most of the day. After a full day of watching Niki prance around my office in that sexy dress? How could it not be??? Forcing her clothes off, seeing her completely exposed? God, my cock wasn’t just hard –it was throbbing with intense need. Realizing what was about to happen, though, she spoke again – her voice trembling slightly.
I arced an eyebrow, but the tears in the corners of those adorable doe eyes seemed to confirm it for me in a way nothing else would. Well, I’d change that soon enough. But, I’d let her begin with a smaller step. When replying, I spoke with as much authority and command as I could. Hell, as I was her boss that came naturally enough.
“Then we’ll start by having you use your mouth, and if you perform to my satisfaction…well, we’ll leave it there. Get on your knees, Niki.”
Those doe eyes never left mine. She was scared – almost petrified – but she gave in. She fell to her knees, eyes gazing at my cock. I won’t pretend it’s something magnificent, but she seemed uncertain how to process six inches. I waited a few seconds for her to begin, but soon grew tired of waiting. A hand placed on each side of her head held her in place, and I simply leaned forward. Her mouth opened, perhaps by instinct. The first couple inches were easy – and even if she was unwilling, the thought of me claiming her pussy seemed to motivate her greatly. Her tongue played with the head of my cock, encircling the shaft awkwardly. As I leaned in more, though, she struggled. I had to hold her in place while pushing my cock deeper and deeper in to her mouth. Honestly, by this point? I wasn’t so much getting head as I was face-fucking her. And the muffled sounds of fear and protest from her throat? They were motivating me to push farther & faster.