Chapter 2

Leighton Green comes to my office wearing a short skirt and the pantyhose I had given her three weeks ago. Her confidence is more assertive these days, her shoulders more broad, she fits right in. I knew I made the right choice selecting her.

We sit on the couch for this informal meeting. My legs are crossed, exuding a sense of control, while her legs are pressed together, displaying a hint of anticipation. She’s taken my words to heart and now wears office skirts everyday and I always enjoy looking at her legs first thing in the morning.

“I’m 90% sure I’ve got the information you want,” she says.

Leighton fidgets as she sits there, her nervous energy evident in the way her fingers continuously and unconsciously toys with the delicate hem of her skirt.

“Before I answer, did you know what I was getting into?”

“Why didn’t you warn me?”

“I wanted to see what you’d do. Sometimes it’s better to let a young woman discover things on her own.”

Leighton doesn’t say anything. Perhaps she’ll leave and never speak to me again.

“It was Harkrider and Gonzalez, just the two of them. I’m 90% sure it was only them.”

The names make sense. Gonzalez has connections around the city and has worked at different places, lacking any type of loyalty except to herself. Harkrider is young, energetic and ambitious, and from the moment she started working here, she was infatuated by the Latina pussy Gonzalez had to offer.

A match made in heaven. Latina mature pussy pairs well with a white girl’s mouth.

“What did you find?” I ask.

“They’d been accessing confidential reports and private communications from their computers. I mean, a lot more than they’d need. I cross-referenced what they’d been looking at against the bank’s losses. Plus they were close, like really close.”

“Did you see anything?”

She pauses for a moment. “I think you know.”

“Tell me. So I can be sure.”

“Neither of them wore panties. Eventually I realized that most women in that department, if not all, had forgone wearing panties. I could tell from the smooth shapes of their skirts.”

“They give oral,” she says. “Like oral, oral. That kind. I caught glimpses of Cathy Harkrider on her knees, in the office, between Marta Gonzalez’s legs. They were too busy to realize that I was spying on their malfeasance.”

“Yet you’re still here. You haven’t quit. Or will you?”

“I don’t plan on quitting.”

“Because I’ve worked too fucking hard to get here.”

The confidence with which Leighton professes her intentions brings joy to my heart, mainly because I was once like her. I see myself in Leighton, and perhaps she sees herself in me.

“Did you lick anyone?” I ask.

“That was the only way I could get close enough to their social circle.”

“Tell me about that, if you’re comfortable.”

“Life is obscene. The trick is to embrace that obscenity, to have fun with it.”

Leighton gets the hint and she starts to blush, before composing herself.

“Okay, if you really want to know,” she says. “I kept my eyes on them after my suspicions were raised. I was subtle, they were friendly. Harkrider kept making sexual innuendos at me and a few older women wanted to become friends. Looking back, it was so obvious what they wanted.

She continues, “I accepted an invitation from a woman, who was in her early 50’s or so, to join them in the employees lounge for refreshments. Women were coming and going from that room, coffee and pastries in their hands, wry expressions on their faces. When I got there, I saw a woman sitting down with her skirt lifted, her legs spread. No panties. It took me about two seconds to realize that women were giving each other oral sex, in between the pastries and coffee, and it made my heart stop. Someone suggested it was my turn because I was the new girl. I froze. Literally froze. But I didn’t want to turn them down.

She continues, “That’s why I did it, I guess. A few people watched. I didn’t want to raise suspicions. I wanted to blend in, so I got on my knees, between the legs of an older woman. That was my first time doing anything like that but I managed to play it cool. I wanted to act like I’d done it before. The vagina was like a ripe peach, I touched the woman’s skin around her crotch. I licked it. The sweet juices dripped on my tongue, which was strangely delightful. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me and it was mortifying.”

I look at Leighton differently now, especially her lips. These are lips with newfound experience. Lips that have pressed against labia, with a tongue that tasted.

She’s thoroughly embarrassed for having done this. She’s equally embarrassed for having to confess. I can tell that her thoughts are far more complex than what she’s letting on because women like Leighton are complex creatures. They don’t just lick pussy, they have to have a reason. And her reason is obvious, which is that she wants the job, and I respect a girl who does whatever it takes.

“Does this experience make you uncomfortable?” I ask.

“No. Sexuality exists on a spectrum. You’re still discovering where you stand, though it’s pretty obvious from the ease with which you fell to your knees and gave service.”

My tone is light-hearted and thankfully she isn’t offended.

Leighton stays quiet for a moment. “Are you daunted by working here and seeing this stuff? Sorry, I felt the need to ask.”

Her eyes are sincere. Her self-doubt is creeping in. Drastic times call for drastic measures.

I unbutton my blouse, taking my sweet time as we look at each other, her eyes filled with wonder and curiosity. When I open the front of my blouse, she sees my red bra. The front of my bra is so sheer that it’s almost nonexistent. My nipples are big and dark, very Asian, very distinct.

Leighton doesn’t flinch. She just stares.

“Any thoughts?” I ask.

“They’re beautiful.”

With the tips of my fingers, I pull the front of my bra down so my nipples pop out.

“Working here isn’t for everyone,” I say. “The hours can be grueling, there’s a lot of stress, and it’s demanded that everyone performs to the best of their ability. The banking business is the stress business.”

“We may have a nice position for you, internal auditor, because you have good eyes and keen instincts. You’ll be reporting directly to upper-management.”

“Honestly, being an internal auditor wasn’t what I had in mind when joining this place. I’ve always wanted to be important, to make big decisions, to be in the mix of things.”

“You’ll be reporting to the top. I’ve already told the CFO about you.”

Leighton’s eyes light up. “The Chief-Financial-Officer?”

“That’s the top and she’s looking for talent like you.”

Her eyes peer down at my nipples, which helps finalize her decision.

“I’m interested,” she says.

“First, type a report about your findings, like you’re a police detective who’s solved a case.”

“Second, you’ll need to lose those panties.”

Her legs clench. “Now?”

“You don’t have to show me anything, just slip them down and hand it over.”

Leighton clears her throat, contemplating a life changing decision, then she stands in front of me and lifts her office skirt. White panties. Leighton makes zero attempt to be sexy about her movements, this is all business, and she slides her panties down and I accidentally get a view of her thin labia.

She hands me her panties. I stand and accept while we’re face to face.

“Good, now get started on your report. You’re being fast tracked for a promotion.”

Leighton walks timidly to the door, feeling a mix of nervousness and exhilaration. It’s her first time venturing into public without panties beneath her skirt and it’s scary. As she reaches the door, she stops and looks at me.

“Are you going to put your nipples away?” she asks.

“Why bother? We’re all friends here.”

She’s surprised by my response. I walk over and open the door, the sound of employees talking and typing fills my office. Our privacy disappears. She’s stunned by my exposure, perhaps mortified of being seen next to me, with my breasts like this. She walks back to her desk, her feet are so close together that she’s practically walking on tip toes, savoring her first experience being pantyless.

Stephanie is Office Ready

The sun illuminates my office through tall glass windows. I’m sitting completely naked around the coffee table in the center of the room, flanked by two loyal assistants and a senior executive who’s a classic elitist. All women. All dressed in office skirts and blouses. Their eyes would peer at my nipples or my toes since my legs are crossed.

We sometimes do other things besides discussing finances. Kissing and flirting. Pussy licking. Rim jobs. The occasional woman would bring a strap-on if wanting to be screwed. This isn’t the life I envisioned for myself, but I embrace it. It’s a condition for having this job.

The secretary opens the door and escorts Leighton Greene into my office. It’s my first time laying eyes on her. The girl is young, cute, and well-kept. She’s sharply dressed in a white blouse and gray office skirt, and I look down to make sure that her pantyhose game is on point. It is. Her posture and confidence could use some work. Her body language suggests she’s ready to run away from my nudity. Has anyone told her, warned her?

I stand and walk barefoot to her, offering a firm handshake. She offers a tepid handshake in response. Her eyes peer at my pink nipples and figure.

“Everyone, this is Leighton Greene, the girl genius who uncovered the corporate espionage that took place. Sit with us. Get comfortable.”

I gesture for Leighton to sit, then I gesture for the secretary to bring her coffee, which she does in a prompt manner. Leighton is sheepish as she takes a seat, being new to sitting around power. I sit with my legs closed to avoid distracting her.

When our coffee cups are refreshed and the secretary leaves, I get straight to business.

“It’s a cutthroat world,” I say. “We have competitors who will do anything.”

Leighton takes a deep gulp, sitting there with a posture like a ballerina, still intimidated by my breasts and nipples. At least my legs are crossed tight enough to conceal the clitoris or else she’d be unable to sip coffee.

We talk and I inquire about her methods uncovering the espionage. She’s happy to provide insight, but there are moments where she skips details. I know which details she glosses over. Being known as the new pussy-licker in the office must make her uneasy. I’ve heard first-hand reports about how she slobbered over a juicy cunt, drooled in fact, with her lips and mouth left shining when it was over, before coming to her senses and realizing what she’d done. She’ll get used to the shame and pleasure. They always do.

I take things a step further.

“Do you want your pussy eaten?” I ask.

She gulps. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Leighton, I want you to remain in the trenches for a while to safeguard our interests. The truth is, we have some of the most dedicated women on the planet, but some may have ulterior motives. Do you get what I’m asking?”