A Working Girl’s G-String

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Katie reminisced over her childhood and the way her mother would stand in their main hallway, the one leading on to the lounge room, and holler for her when she’d misbehaved.

“Katie Rachael, do you want me to set you over my knee?” she’d bellow exasperatedly. “Is that what you’re aiming for, Missy?”

Inexorably would follow the almost-exhilarating sting of the large wooden spoon on her pale, bare buttocks. There would be one startling slap in the silence, then a pause and finally, another. Always once, always twice and then it was over.

In a wild crossover from her childhood to the impending present, Katie suddenly wondered if her boss Mr. O’Bannon would throw her physically over his knee and spank out her punishment. He had, after all, specifically requested a plain white button-down business shirt. Yet the very closest that she had been able to acquire in his size had tiny white satin pinstripes through it. Her breathing quickened imperceptibly with these wicked, disorientating thoughts.

“Actually, he’d look rather dashing in it,” she declared in her inner libertine way accompanied as it was by a small, defiant toss of her long auburn locks. That straight, black hair of his always presented as just a tad too long and it would curl deliciously, temptingly, over the back of his collar and tickle her sight mercilessly. Her pupils began to dilate as the remembrance of this luscious torment slid unbidden into her mind.

Katie shook her head to dislodge these extra-curricular notions as she rode the elevator up to the eighth floor and back to the office she had occupied for the last three months as Personal Assistant to Mr. O’Bannon. Sometimes, she fancied after a long and exhausting day, his eyes looked deep enough for her to dive right into and languidly swim awhile in their welcoming, silky depths.

The elevator’s harsh, monochromatic voice announcing her level interrupted her girl-scout, romance-novelist reverie and drew her back to this morning’s dilemma; Mr. O’B’s reaction to her choice in shirts.

Would he be enraged that she hadn’t followed his instructions to the letter? She moistened her lips and arched her back in anticipation. Perhaps livid enough to bend her over his firm, muscled thighs and, in lieu of a handy cooking implement, slap her derriere over and over with his big, brawny hands instead? Katie attempted to swallow but found her throat too tight to achieve any such grand undertaking.

It came to her notice that she had been all but jogging in her heedless haste to get back down the hallway to her manager and initiate the confrontation that she had just been breathlessly contemplating. As she realised that he would probably react with nothing less than generosity and genuine appreciation for her trouble Katie tried frenziedly to convince herself that her chest rising and falling so unevenly was due to her swiftly paced steps from elevator to office: that overly long six foot expanse! “After all,” she reasoned petulantly, “I have just done it in heels!”

She couldn’t help but grin at that one as she entered Mr. O’B’s plush corner suite, and waited unobtrusively for him to conclude his telephone call.

If the truth were to be strictly related, Katie Rachael Dwyer wasn’t the least bit concerned about the shirt, she owned to herself. Yesterday’s proceedings were at the pit of performing butterflies in her tummy. She nibbled the left corner of her perfect Cupid’s bow pout and endeavored once more to rationalize the events of the last iniquitous twenty-four hours.

Justifications and Ego-Stroking first: She was a great P.A. She knew that about herself. Katie was the kind of woman who would sacrifice for her job, and regularly did. She had never been fired from any position she held and since the age of twenty (four years ago) she had actually been headhunted twice. Mr. O’B was her perfect superior. He allowed her a certain professional freedom the like of which had developed through a blended sense of mutual trust and he had been unambiguous with his comments to the effect that the future augured well for promotion. Theirs was a well-regulated, efficient relationship that worked auspiciously for both parties.

Motivations and all-round Denials second: She must have been stricken with a temporary, but nonetheless extreme, case of Dissociative Disorder!

Katie had come to care for this man above and beyond the call of her duty (which was the problem in a nutshell) with her desire and respect exquisitely balanced. His broad, impressively built body seemed to overpower her better judgment, though unfortunately that was all it had wrestled with, well, up until yesterday afternoon anyway, she deliberated blushingly. If the attraction had been only physical she might have been able to muster more than a modicum of self-control but emotionally, not to mention ethically, she realised that this man had no equal and this served only to further enflame her already heated appetite. She dreamed of casino oyna his strapping, masculine hands sliding over her trim, taut body almost nightly. If she gave herself permission to lower her lids right this minute, Katie knew that she would be instantly transported to the fantasy world where his hairy, patterned chest cuddled tightly her own yielding curves.


“Let’s just focus on the problem at hand, Katie-girl,” she muttered quietly to herself as she wandered over to the picture window, the one overlooking the lush expanse of grassy parkland, and attempted to formulate her thoughts over.

It all began with her lucky leather G-string. As far as she was concerned, THIS was the culprit and if requested to take an oath in a court of law to that effect, she would happily testify, even volubly, as to its lascivious nature and lugubrious influence.

The man who had styled it for her, Antonio, was the Italian boy who had claimed her virginity eight years ago. He had seduced her with his yearning, bedroom eyes long before he ever thrust his thick, uncut dick deep inside her. Tony had initiated their courtship as he sat watching her each and every day whilst she rode the bus home from school. He would calmly position himself opposite her, unapologetically devouring her body with his black, penetrating gaze. She rapidly came to eagerly anticipate their silent, amorous exchanges and was mildly surprised by the bitter disappointment she amassed the day he didn’t turn up in his usual seat.

After a long, lonely week of enduring his painful absence, Katie impulsively decided to put an end to the uncertainty and resolutely alighted the bus at his stop that very afternoon instead of her own. She marched brazenly straight into his father’s store, espied him across the busy floor and made her way solemnly towards him.

“I’ve longed to see you each day on my way home but have been thwarted five days running now,” she stated with a blunt, innocent forthrightness that flattered her potential beau. With a teenager’s compelling naivety and a tremulous bottom lip she added, “I was worried.”

Tony’s pupils appeared to simultaneously darken and fill with light at the delivery of her words but he knew his father was watching. “Come this way. I am sure we have the ideal pair of shoes for just that occasion,” he announced loudly in his sultry, accented tones, looking at his father and nodding that he could handle this one. Antonio Senior, never suspecting, went on with his own customers and their transactions.

“Tell me your name, Tesoro,” he sighed intimately into her ear as he fitted a pair of stilettos upon her elfin feet. Katie gulped audibly as his fingers glided luxuriously up her smooth calf.

In Mr. O’Bannon’s office all those many years later, Katie savoured the sympathetic swelling in her clitoris and slowly shifted her weight from foot to foot, squeezing her delicate pearl in self-gratification as she sashayed over these early memories. Vaguely she felt her fraught, internal dissension and noted blithely that her current train of thoughts did not at all appertain to the quandary at hand and the solution that ought to be so unswervingly sought. However, her pulse yet increased its pace as she cast her eyes back once more over her first lover’s gorgeous countenance.

“Ka, Ka, Katie Rachel,” she stammered at long last just as he crouched down and commenced unobtrusively pressing her well-toned leg between his, rubbing himself against her gently, back and forth and over again.

“I never stood a chance,” Katie moaned quietly with a small smile as she yielded yet again in her mind to this her earliest sweet, sexual thrill.

Within fifteen minutes Antonio had led her out the back to the little workroom used by both father and son. Whispering mellifluously to her in Italian and bewildering her with the strength of emotions she had not yet mastered, still he managed shock her tender, virginal Catholic sensibilities by removing her, by now, damp white cotton panties and inhaling from them deeply.

“You smell so good, Bella. Oh, show me your stunning titties. Darling girl, you must take off that tiny blouse this very instant.”

Thus Katie, with alacrity, did as she was instructed and found that she had (before a very small space of time had passed) nothing on but her diminutive pleated school skirt standing before the mirror, watching the sexy Antonio play incessantly with her breasts. They bounced almost as much as when she ran warm-ups in gym class but this time she didn’t feel the least bit embarrassed. In fact, she decided liked the way they changed shape as she lifted her arms and even more so Tony’s primal groaning in response.

“Make them jump for me, Honey. Up and down, again, oh, mmm. Yes, like that. Such glorious tits my Katie has. Oh God. Let me squeeze your rigid, pointed nipples. Uh, Baby Doll.”

Katie pondered that scrumptious memory and agreed yet again slot oyna that it was the first time she had become aware of her own body and the effect it had on the opposite sex.

“Antonio, please may I look at you, um, down there?” she eventually managed to blush out and so discovered her first ever twin set, consisting of his beautiful cock and heavy, hairy balls.

They didn’t make love that day though because Tony was utterly unable to convince her something of that magnitude was able to fit in there between her own slender legs. His fingers and tongue went a fair way to persuading her otherwise, but overall she resisted.

When it, at last, came time to dress, Antonio steadfastly refused to release his hold on her panties and she was equally aghast at going out with nothing on at all. And so the fateful leather worker crafted a miniature heart, no more two inches wide, with three tiny holes. He slipped a little leather string through each and, placing the petite shape atop her still-wet mound, tied a bow at her arse. It was sensual and sinful and she tumbled into love with him on that very spot, wearing it constantly whilst they were together.

“Why didn’t I throw it away years ago?” Katie frantically, and with no small amount of guilt, questioned herself now as she placed her fevered forehead against the cool, refreshing glass.

She had been spring-cleaning her bedroom just last weekend when the sexy, scanty G-string had unexpectedly turned up at the very back of her lingerie drawer. It had elicited an immediate set of lusty, satiated feelings whose echoes emanated with fervour from her past and which companionably formed an effective counter-weight to the frustrated longing that stirred more keenly each day in favor of the man who was now her boss.

She had, unaccountably she now opined, put it on the very next day, yesterday in fact, and felt such a saucy thrill course through her as she stepped out of her apartment and went forth to greet the day. Katie felt seductively wanton in her snugly tailored two-piece business suit. It was her finest set: the jet black, long A-line skirt and the figure-hugging low-cut double-breasted jacket. She favored lacy, feminine blouses, or frilled elegant shirts, just to take the edge of severity off her ensemble and today was no exception.

Extemporizing silently, she realised that she knew in hindsight of course, that the extra spring in her step, the seditious swing to her hips and her ‘come-fuck-me’ perky little arse were all horribly bad developments but she honestly didn’t know how to fix it now that the damage was already done. Her enormous green eyes welled with tears as she glanced over her shoulder and confirmed the fact that Mr. O’Bannon was still deeply committed to his call and exhibited no signs of ringing off any time soon.

If only she didn’t hold him in such high esteem then his unaccountable indisposition at the quarterly sales meeting would have been just another occurrence in a fairly ordinary day. But glancing around the table at the six purely hostile faces she realised with a far too personal indignation that her boss’ proposals had no chance of carrying the day. It had quite infuriated her that these shallow, parochial minds persistently declined to open themselves up to even the possibility of the reforms Mr. O’B fought so intrepidly to institute.

“Just look at that miserly Bob Guthrie over there,” she had raged uncharitably in the excessive heat of passion, she now admitted penitently. “He has all but begged me, on his hands and knees no less, to go out on a date with him for these last two weeks past. He would have been better off applying that same measure of zeal to the practice of his job and we would not be in this unpleasant quicksand right now.”

At the completion of this less-than-friendly soliloquy and as she sat gazing disgustedly at all of the other aspects crowded into the boardroom on Level Five, it dawned on her that at least four of them, to varying degrees, had made some kind of sexual overture towards her since she had joined the company. Why, she suddenly recalled with the flush of womanly power, Tobin from Accounting had gone so far as to proffer her an exchange in the form of promotion if she’d only tongue his penis, just once, in the rear stationary storage room, on any given afternoon.

She glowed as an idea stealthily stole over her consciousness and without waiting to garner its pros and cons, she found herself recklessly, looking back in her horrified mind’s eye, acting upon the aforementioned idea.

Just as Mr. O’Bannon’s temper began to flair and the proceedings threatened to become ominous, there was a dreadfully surprising crash of shattering porcelain followed by an oh-so-feminine exclamation of wonderment and surprise.

“Oh Gentlemen, I do so apologise. What an absolute klutz I must appear. Please, please excuse me for just a moment,” and with those softly spoken silken words Katie, holding the front canlı casino siteleri of her sodden, coffee-stained blouse away from her delicate skin, exited the scene.

All eyes, she was aware with a woman’s perspicacity, followed her delectable 5’9″ frame out of the door, just as she had planned they would.

As if telepathically linked to her manager, in walked Katie a few minutes later just as Mr. O’B had begun to fatally sink under the quagmire of further juxtaposed opinions. She had done the only thing a woman in her position could do: she completely removed her ruined shirt and brasserie and, with nothing whatever to put on underneath had audaciously walked back into the, soon-to-be, den of iniquity with her spectacular décolleté partially on show for all and sundry to behold. Naturally Katie realised that she was jiggling even more furiously than ever as she walked but a quick glance in the mirror assured her she had nothing whatsoever to be ashamed of as yet. As long as she didn’t stretch her arms too much (which would open her low cut jacket up entirely) she’d pull the whole thing off easily, she reflected as her thoughts of the previous day flitted unconvincingly through her mind.

Silence ensued as all seven sets of eyes were riveted upon Ms. Dwyer.

Katie knew that she had a reputation as something of an ice queen but reconciled herself to the fact that most women with a potent sense of ambition in a male-dominated arena had felt the lash of this unfair public offering of chauvinism.

She attempted to validate her behaviour as a pre-cursor to issuing the same verbal defense with Mr. O’Bannon. Her mode of dress, though revealing, was in point of fact, decent. Both swells of her breasts could be seen but nothing more. Well, at least not unless she bent over.

“Nah, that won’t work,” she declared glumly as she considered what came next in yesterday’s debacle.

“I’m so sorry, Gentlemen to have kept you waiting. No doubt in the interim sufficient time has passed for you to discuss Mr. O’Bannon’s proposed mandate following November’s unacceptable showing. If I could just have your signatures as a concurrence?”

She approached Mr. Tobin initially, bending ever so slightly forward until one pale nipple all but jutted daintily into his eye.

It was so soft and pert. Katie saw him lick his lips and knew that they’d won the day.

And so she went through all of them one by one, each gripping his cock in one hand and the eager-to-please-her pen in the other. She met with only one recalcitrant member who offered any showing of initial resistance. She chose to lean in extra close and pointed out the precise place for his signature. When he continued his silent rebuke, she crouched down, bouncing Mahlia and Daisy for all the world as though she were an exotic dancer in the very midst of a performance rather than in a boardroom in the CBD, placed her graceful hand a shade too high up upon her hapless victim’s leg and seductively exhaled into his ear, “Please Mr. Tobin, is there any problem you and I can’t fix, (squeeze) together?” The last was proffered in a ragged, impassioned manner.

Katie admitted to herself that she was too much for all of them AND that she and Mr. O’Bannon had come out of that meeting with rewards that weren’t deemed winnable by the masses but an hour before.

Finally she reached Mr.O’B who had remained preternaturally silent throughout this entire vested exchange.

“Mr. O’Bannon, Sir, would you finish us off please?” she had inquired victoriously.

He had grasped the Mont Blanc roughly from her lithe fingers and leaned forward to address the paper whilst simultaneously heaving an enormous sigh, one that seemed to be delivered from the very depths of his being. The searing hot, virile air explosively hit her nipple with such a scorching intensity that it puckered her tender skin immediately. Her instinctual moan, proffered reflexively, without her permission was just loud enough to graze his ears, as she involuntarily pictured her breast nestled in his scintillating mouth, his tongue flicking ruthlessly over her tits.

As the meeting quickly broke up, Katie recalled that she had started to chew the tip of her pencil as she was wont to do when pleased and in the very process of attempting to not show it.

“You wouldn’t mind remaining behind, Ms. Dwyer, for just a moment,” Mr. O’B informed her with stern implacability as she was rising to leave. He undid his top shirt button and loosened his tie in apparent consternation and so Katie’s eye chanced upon the most arousing sight of his chest hairs peeking tantalizingly up through that minute opening. She could clearly see where he stopped shaving. It was such an unexpectedly erotic sight.

She glanced over her shoulder at Mr. O’Bannon in the here and now, watching him intently as he continued with the everlasting telephone conversation, hoping for a glimpse of that startling sight once again. She caught herself in the midst of this procrastination and returned thence to her inward contemplations.

When she was at last able to tear her sight away from that enticing vision of yesterday afternoon, she saw that he had been watching her speculatively.

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