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After several years of university, I decided it was time to leave study behind for a while and get a full-time job.Truth was, I hadn’t been too successful at uni and had switched courses on several occasions hoping to find the one that I’d really enjoy and apply myself to. But each time, it was the same. I’d be all enthusiastic for a few weeks and then I’d decide that partying was more fun and my studies would suffer.Plus, my Austudy was a pittance and at twenty-two years of age I was sick of having no money; at least, none of my own.My boyfriend Jarrod earned a good wage and was always trying to help me out and buy me things and pay all the rent etc., but I hated having to rely on him. So, I decided to put some of the legal studies skills that I’d learned way back in high school to good use. Fortunately, I got the first job that I applied for. And I’m not convinced that it was purely due to my ability to type eighty words per minute.The job was with a suburban solicitor by the name of Mr. Granger. He was a middle-aged, rather unkempt, slightly overweight man with permanently messy hair who seemed far more interested in my cleavage than my resume. And I certainly didn’t think that I had dressed particularly provocatively for my job interview. It was a warm day, so I’d just put on a black tank top under a dark grey blazer. But it seemed to work for Mr. Granger.He also seemed more interested in what I did in my spare time than what work experience I had – which was bugger all! But none of that bothered me. He was friendly, respectful and seemed genuine. Plus, a little flustered. I wondered if that was because of me. It bemused me somewhat to think it may have been.Anyway, whatever, I got the job!My first few days there were a lot of fun. I was looking forward to my first pay packet and the independence of having my own money. I loved traveling on the tram to work every morning with all the other important, smartly dressed, professional-looking people with their serious faces reading news apps on their phones. I felt like I belonged because, for the first time in my life, I too had an important job to go to.Mr. Granger (let’s call him Paul) was clearly very good at his job and was highly respected by his clients. And they were many. He was constantly busy. And it was obviously hard for him to find the time to train me properly. I got the firm impression that the woman I replaced had left somewhat abruptly and so I was kinda thrown in the deep end.But it started becoming obvious that Paul was quite nervous around me. He was always looking down my top, but to his credit, he tried very hard to hide it and any time that I caught him he would hurriedly look away.But I didn’t mind at all that he was leering at me. Here he was, a man of obvious respect and standing, occupying a position of power and authority going all silly around me.I started telling Jarrod about Paul at night when I got home. The truth was that I thought Paul was one of the wittiest, most talented, yet most quirky and eccentric people I’d ever met. He was so funny. Clearly, I must have gone on a bit too much because Jarrod started getting jealous.Honestly, I couldn’t believe it! But then I shouldn’t have been surprised because Jarrod was always jealous of any other male who so much as looked in my direction. If I went out with my girlfriends and he wasn’t invited he’d get all putout, thinking that other guys would try to hit on me.Well they did! Obviously. They tried to crack onto any girls out on their own. But I wasn’t interested in other guys. In my mind I was with Jarrod and that was that. But that didn’t stop him.On Saturday mornings, when I played netball, if the boyfriends of my teammates happened to be there, he’d complain to me that they were all perving on me. It was ridiculous. It never seemed to occur to him that although I was attractive enough there were other girls in my team who were far sexier than me. At least I thought so. I guess I should’ve been flattered that he thought they were all looking at me.Whatever. It was annoying and now he was jealous of an overweight, middle-aged lawyer.So, I stopped talking to Jarrod about Paul.One morning, I made the mistake of wearing a pair of white slacks to work. Yeah, they were pretty tight and I kinda knew they didn’t leave much to the imagination, but I liked them and I didn’t really think much of it.When I walked into the office at 8:43, Paul’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. All day he was even more nervous around me than normal. Finally, around mid-afternoon, as I brought some paperwork into his office he said to me, “I really like those slacks on you. They really suit you. You should wear them more often.”“Thank you,” I said, cheekily, half turning in a mock fashion güvenilir bahis runway demonstration, but really just so he could catch a quick glimpse of my bottom. I honestly don’t know why I did that.“You’re welcome,” he said, and then, after a long pause, “And I really like those pink panties.”I instantly blushed. I’d forgotten that I’d worn knickers. They were clearly visible through the thin white material. Normally I’d only wear those white pants when I went out with my girlfriends and I’d wear a g-string underneath.“Oh, my God!” I said, genuinely embarrassed, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to wear these.”“No, no!” Paul said hurriedly, putting his open palms out in a desperate attempt to calm a situation he obviously thought could result in a harassment claim. “No, I, I just mean it looks nice. I didn’t mean anything by it.”We both laughed and I assured him that I wasn’t offended by his comments.Over the next few days, Paul was a lot more careful around me in the office and I returned to wearing dark slacks or long skirts. It was obvious to me that he deeply regretted remarking on my panties. Not that it had bothered me at all. It was just a harmless observation. But clearly Paul thought that it was unprofessional and potentially very damning to his business.But then, about two weeks later as I was packing up my desk to go home he came up to me and said in a slightly nervous voice, “Um, I wonder if you’d mind wearing those white slacks tomorrow.”I just looked blankly at him, unsure of what to say. Paul looked back at me, clearly feeling uncomfortable. Before I could say anything he went on, “It’s…it’s just that I have a potential new client coming in tomorrow. He’s worth a lot of money. I really want this guy. There’s a few of the bigger firms sniffing around him. I can’t match the size of their teams, obviously, but I reckon you could be my secret weapon.” He looked deeply into my eyes and I knew exactly what he wanted.I smiled. And I tingled at the possibility. “You’re the boss,” I said cheekily, “whatever you say.”Paul looked utterly relieved and said, “Thank you so much.”The tram ride into work the next day was so exciting. I couldn’t wait to get into the office and put on a show for whoever it was that Paul was trying to lure. It was obvious that getting this guy was very important to Paul and I genuinely felt that if it was important to my boss then it should be important to me.So, I put on one hell of a show.I’d also worn a low cut top that really showed off my cleavage. As soon as Paul saw me, I realized I’d done well.“Good morning Chloe,” he said, wide-eyed. “May I just say that you look beautiful.” It was said without any hint of sleaziness or innuendo. Just a genuine compliment.“Thank you,” I said, and immediately felt my knickers getting all wet.Jesus! I thought to myself, and I’m wearing white!I hurriedly sat down at my desk and when Paul wasn’t looking I quickly checked down there. It was ok, nothing was showing. But I just felt so horny. I hadn’t felt this way in so long and I couldn’t explain it.Control yourself! I thought to myself. I tried to focus on my work.Mr. Pritchard, the much sought-after client arrived at 10 am. By the time I stood up to greet him as he came through the door, I had managed to calm down somewhat and presented as very courteous and professional.He was older than Paul and obviously took care of himself. Well dressed with a full head of slightly greying hair he sort of reminded me a bit of Richard Gere in ‘Pretty Woman’.He paid me nothing more than perfunctory attention and walked straight over to Paul who had emerged from his office to shake his hand.“Coffee or tea, John?” Paul asked him.“No thanks, Paul,” he replied and they disappeared back into the office, closing the door behind them.It wasn’t long before Paul again appeared at his office door and asked me to find some case file or something from the cabinet and bring it into his office. I immediately recognised a slight look of agitation and stress on his face. I gathered that Mr. Pritchard was playing hardball.I knocked and then walked into the office with the particular file that had been requested. Immediately I could smell the very expensive aftershave on Mr. Pritchard that I hadn’t noticed before. I walked as close to him as I could without actually brushing against him and rather provocatively leaned over the desk to hand the file to Paul. I thought I noticed Mr. Pritchard looking at my backside. I couldn’t be sure but I hoped so.Soon, I was summoned again to bring another file. This time I was certain he was staring at me. I felt myself getting extremely wet again.The third time I was called in, Mr. Pritchard actually spoke to me. “So how long have you been working here, Chloe?” güvenilir bahis siteleri he asked. He knows my name! I thought to myself.“Not long,” I replied, “only a few weeks.” And on it went for a few minutes. “Are you studying? Do you have a boyfriend? You’re very pretty.” Etcetera.I loved it! I was so wet! I giggled at his jokes. I flirted with him; I half sat provocatively on Paul’s desk as he addressed me. I placed my hand on his shoulder when talking to him, I batted my eyelids… I really put on a show! Then as I left the office I made sure that I did the whole rolling of the hips thing as I walked out, looking into his eyes and smiling as I closed the door behind me.About fifteen minutes later the office door opened and the two men came out laughing and shaking hands. This time Mr. Pritchard gave me a good deal of attention. He took my hand and looked straight into my eyes. “I’m certainly looking forward to seeing a lot more of you, Chloe,” he said. I merely smiled and giggled and blushed. “You take care of this one, Paul,” he said, not taking his eyes from mine. “She’s a very good catch!”“Oh, I intend to,” Paul replied.Then Mr. Pritchard was out the door and gone. Paul just looked at me, exhaled deeply and said, “Well done, Chloe.”I found myself really enjoying my job with Paul. Jarrod just seemed to hate it though. I couldn’t understand it. If I mentioned Paul or my job he’d roll his eyes and say something like, “I don’t care about that fuckin’ sleaze!” But then if I didn’t mention work for a while he’d ask what I was being so secretive about.One day, not long after we’d secured Mr. Pritchard’s business, I decided to wear my sexy white slacks to work again. Truth was I only wore them because I knew Paul liked looking at me in them. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten that Jarrod’s roster had changed. Every second week he was on the afternoon shift. Therefore, he was home when I left for work. When he saw me in my tight, virtually see-through pants and little white cotton tails clearly on display, he went berserk!“Why are you showing yourself off to that dirty old cunt?” he ranted.“Sorry! Sorry! Jesus!” I said to him, trying to calm him down. “I was just in a rush. I’ll go and change. They’re just the first things I found.”That seemed to calm him down for the moment.From then on, every time Jarrod was on afternoon shift and I decided to wear those pants or any of the other revealing slacks or ridiculously short skirts that I had (which was often) I’d put on something more modest for Jarrod’s benefit and take the revealing outfits in my bag, changing at the train station or in the toilets downstairs from where I worked.Paul never asked me to. And he never commented on anything I wore again after that one time. But I knew he loved it.One afternoon, Paul approached me again as I was packing up to go home. “There’s a Law Institute Conference coming up in a couple of months. It’s being held in Albury this year. I was thinking you could come too.” He had that slightly embarrassed look that I’d come to know so well. It was obvious that he really wanted me to go.“Gee,” I said, “I’d love to, but I’m not sure I can afford it.”“No, it’s a work function so you’d be going as my secretary. I’ll cover all expenses.”I wasn’t about to say no to that.The problem was going to be how to tell Jarrod. He’d flip when I told him.Funnily enough he didn’t react as badly as I thought he would. He just laughed. Not a happy, inclusive laugh, but a mocking, derisive laugh.“You are kidding me, aren’t you!” he asked rhetorically. “He’s invited you away for a dirty weekend! I guess you can’t blame him for trying,” he said, scoffing derisively again.“It’s not a dirty weekend,” I said soothingly. “It’s a work conference.”“And you’ll be sharing a room, no doubt,” Jarrod asked, trying to hide his anger and obvious hurt and confusion.“Don’t be ridiculous!” I said, still trying to sound reassuring. “As if I’m going to allow him to do that!” Jarrod shot me a look. “He’s not interested in me like that!” I instantly came back with.To his credit, Jarrod never really tried to stop me going. But it was obvious that he was not at all happy about the arrangement. I did my best to put his mind at ease and assure him that even if Paul did try something – which I promised Jarrod he wouldn’t – that I would immediately put a stop to it!Nonetheless it was a decidedly grumpy boyfriend that I farewelled on the Friday morning before the weekend away with Paul. But I assured Jarrod we’d go out and have dinner together on Sunday night when I got back.When I got to work, Paul was clearly very excited about the weekend. No work was done that day and we left before lunch. Immediately I got the impression that this weekend had pretty much iddaa siteleri nothing to do with work and had everything to do with having a good time.Paul spoke excitedly in the car about catching up with old mates and how much they’d enjoy meeting me and I would enjoy meeting them.We stopped for lunch in a country pub somewhere along the way and Paul encouraged me to have a glass of wine. So I did.I’d never seen Paul so relaxed. And I liked it. The way he spoke about introducing me around it was as though he almost saw us as a couple. He seemed very excited about showing me off and it was quite obvious that he was very proud of me.Again, I have to say that it didn’t bother me at all. I was being paid to be there and he was paying for everything so I would do as I was told.We arrived in Albury around 4:30 in the afternoon. We drove straight to our motel. Now, I hadn’t specifically asked if I would have my own room, nor did I request it. But naturally, I had assumed that I would. So when Paul returned to the car from the motel reception with only one key, I was a little surprised. Then, when we pulled up to the room and went inside I started to understand what this was really all about.There was only one bed. A queen-sized bed. I gave Paul a bemused look. Frankly, he looked like an idiot. He flushed and mumbled something about the motel making a mistake with the booking and now they didn’t have any more rooms and he would complain etc. etc.“Paul. Paul! It’s ok,” I said, interrupting his clumsy attempt at dishonesty. “I’ve shared a bed with a male friend before. And the bed’s big enough so we won’t have to touch. It’s ok.”Somehow he seemed more attractive than previously. He wanted me. Obviously. So I decided I would probably let him have me. I couldn’t help thinking how Jarrod had seen this coming all along. But honestly, I had not. But he was too far away to do anything so I decided he didn’t really matter.That night we went out for dinner with a bunch of Paul’s friends and colleagues. He introduced me to all of them as his secretary and every single one of them smiled knowingly at him. There were a few comments along the lines of, “Well done” and other forms of congratulations. Even from some of the women.As it was going to be a big weekend, everybody left fairly early. We got back to our room and Paul asked if I wanted a nightcap. I told him I wanted to take shower first. Maybe it was my imagination but I thought I saw his eyes momentarily light up.I locked the bathroom door as I went in. I wasn’t afraid of Paul or concerned that’d he’d come in. I knew he wouldn’t. I guess I just wanted to send a message that I wasn’t inviting him in. I was at least pretending that we were just sharing a room.I undressed in the bathroom and had a long shower, wondering how I was going to approach the rest of the night. My suitcase was in the main part of the motel room so after I finished my shower I wrapped the towel around myself and went out to get my pyjamas from my case.As I walked out, I looked over to where Paul was sitting up in bed. The TV was on but the sound was low. He was still wearing his shirt but I could see his trousers slung over a chair.“How was your shower?” he asked me.“Terrific.”I went to my case and started looking through my things. I had deliberately wrapped the towel very high up so my bottom was nearly exposed. I guess I wanted to see his reaction. I leaned forward and could feel the cool air between my upper thighs. I was certain that Paul could almost see my young pussy.“Chloe,” I heard Paul say in a low voice, “turn around.” I did as he asked. I stood there being appraised by my boss. He said nothing. I could see he was breathing a little harder than normal.“My God, you’re beautiful,” he finally said.“Thank you, Mr. Granger,” I said, almost mockingly. I was enjoying this role play. Paul ignored it. He seemed transfixed.“What I’d give to see that towel fall to the floor,” he said, his eyes darting around my semi-naked form. He seemed to be trying to take in as much as possible in that moment.My pussy tingled. I felt butterflies in the pit of my tummy. He was my boss. I was duty-bound to do as he asked. I reached up and undid the towel and allowed it to fall to the floor.I stood, naked and vulnerable in this rather dated hotel room, feeling the cheap, coarse carpet under my feet, whilst Paul just gaped at me. All at once he seemed much older than he had previously. Not in a bad way. I guess the gap in our ages and social standing suddenly became more obvious or pronounced. Or something.But I was his to do what he pleased with. I had nowhere to hide. And I loved it.I saw his hand reach under the sheets and he took hold of his cock. “You’re as beautiful as I imagined,” he said, softly. “Come here.” I walked over to the bed and he reached out his other hand and stroked my neatly trimmed pussy. It was surreal. I couldn’t believe that I was allowing this guy to stroke my naked pubic hair. But he was gentle and it felt nice.

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