Chapter 2

Tiffany stopped at the ladies room the next morning to reapply her lipstick, fix her hair, and basically make sure she looked perfect. Then she sashayed to her work area knowing she was desired by every man and envied by every woman. With an uppity look she had mastered in high school when dealing with the unpopular girls, she leaned into Jenny's cubicle and, without warning, said, "Ready for your one-on-one with the boss?" Tiffany chuckled when Jenny almost spilled the steaming coffee she had been blowing on.

It had been Mr. Johnson's idea. He wanted the assignment to be "crystal clear" and the meeting would be an opportunity for each girl to ask questions that might not have been appropriate in a group setting. He snickered when he said, "Trade secrets and all. You don't want to give anything away to your competitor."

"Yeah, I guess," Jenny said to Tiffany. She used two hands to place the coffee cup on her desk and then licked the wetness off her hand. "I don't have anything really to ask him. I guess I'll be in and out real fast."

"Well, I don't have anything to ask him either, but I hope the in and out is not real fast. Hee hee."

Tiffany didn't look back as she strutted towards Mr. Johnson's corner office. She knew Jenny was watching her and she wiggled her hips a little more than usual just to rub in the fact that she had a body Jenny never would.

I wonder if the twerp knew what I meant, she thought with a smirk. Shit, she's probably a fuckin' virgin. Miss Goody Two Shoes will graduate college a virgin. I'm gonna win this easily.

Tiffany stood outside Mr. Johnson's office, allowing his secretary to show her distaste with a frown and disapproving eyes that perused her from head to toe. Tiffany understood women like Mrs. Walstrom; they had daughters like Jenny and didn't like Tiffany's heavy makeup, tight blouse, and short skirt. But Tiffany also knew that men, men like Mr. Johnson and Jack Armstrong, appreciated what she had to offer. But like with her female teachers, women she needed, Tiffany knew when to be charming.

"Morning, Mrs. Walstrom," Tiffany said with a cheerful voice. "Is that suit new? It looks wonderful on you."

The secretary's face softened and she gave Tiffany a half smile. "This old thing? Maybe I haven't worn it in a while."

"Well, it looks great. Don't lose it in your closet again. Um, I have a nine o'clock appointment with Mr. Johnson."

"Go right in. He's expecting you."

Tiffany paused in the doorway and waited with one hip higher than the other and her hand on the raised hip. It was a pose she learned in high school. Mr. Johnson's eyes lifted from the paperwork on his desk and Tiffany smiled inwardly when his gaze locked on her breasts, encased in clinging pink material, before dropping to her black miniskirt and bare legs. Only after studying her body did he look at her face.

Mr. Johnson glanced at his watch and motioned for her to enter. "Right on time. Come in."

Tiffany stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. There was no need to lock it. No one would enter his office without knocking. Not even the old battleaxe Mrs. Walstrom. She walked to the guest chair like a fashion model on a catwalk, placing one foot directly in front of the other, swaying her hips. When she sat down, her skirt rode up but she did not bother tugging it down. The more leg she showed the better.

Mr. Johnson didn't miss the display of skin and, when his eyes rose to Tiffany's face, he was smiling. "So, Tiffany, what do you think of the little contest?"

"I'm so excited that I can't put it into words."

Tiffany crossed her legs, dropping the left over the right. In doing so, they parted for a moment and she noticed Mr. Johnson's gaze focus under her skirt. The flash of her pink panties was only an instant, but the contrast of the bright pink against her black skirt was striking. He didn't look back up until she spoke again.

"I sure hope I win. I really, really want to work here after graduation. So I'm going to do my best to win. I'll do whatever is necessary ... whatever."

The uncertainty that came over Mr. Johnson's face was a joy to the girl who was used to teasing and manipulating men. He was actually biting his bottom lip, and when he reached for his coffee his hand was trembling.

He's stalling, Tiffany thought. I bet if he tried to speak right now he'd be tongue-tied. I saw it in the conference room. A part of him wants to rip my clothes off and rape me. But he's afraid. Guys are so predictable.

"I have one itsy-bitsy question, though," Tiffany said in a shy, little girl's voice.

Mr. Johnson put his coffee mug down without ever taking a drink. "Um, what?" he said.

"You said that Jack will be our customer."

"Yes, that's..."

Mr. Johnson's words caught in his throat when Tiffany uncrossed her legs and planted both feet flat on the floor with her knees apart. She suppressed the giggle that threatened to burst forth. He was staring under her skirt so she spread her knees another few inches; enough to give him a better view but not enough to make it obvious. Years of teasing men had perfected her skill.

"So if Jack is the customer..." Tiffany began, pausing for Mr. Johnson to look up, "then I should be able to ask him questions."

"Um, that's right. He's the customer. You're the architect. You're working for him," Mr. Johnson rambled. It looked like he was struggling to maintain eye contact with Tiffany, a fight he periodically lost as his eyes darted to the gap between her parted legs.

"But you said that Jack can't give us advice."

Mr. Johnson's expression changed. He was trying to understand what they were talking about. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples before saying, "He can answer questions ... customer type questions ... but he can't help you with the design or what direction to take."

"Of course! That makes perfect sense!"

Tiffany covered her face with her hands and tilted her head back. She felt her shirt cling to her jutting breasts. The movement also caused her butt to slide to the edge of the chair and, when she felt her skirt ride up more, she moved her knees further apart. Tiffany held that pose for what seemed like a long time, but couldn't have been more than fifteen or twenty seconds.

She dropped her hands to her sides and said, "Thank you so much. That clarifies it."

Without sitting back up, she studied Mr. Johnson. He had lost the struggle and was gawking under her skirt. She had him.

"What's the matter? Did I forget to wear panties again?" Tiffany said, pulling the hem of her skirt to her waist. "Nope, I'm wearing panties."

"What? Huh? What are... ?" Mr. Johnson seemed to have lost the ability to string more than two words together.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I embarrass you? I'm so sorry." Tiffany flipped her skirt down and snapped her knees together.

"No. I, um ... It's just that ... Don't, uh, worry about it. It's okay," Mr. Johnson babbled.

"You are embarrassed, aren't you?"

"I'm, uh, I'm sorry that I, um..."

"Mr. Johnson, please don't be embarrassed. It was my fault for sitting like that. And to be honest, I sort of liked you looking."

"What!"

"Well, it makes a girl feel good when a guy looks at her. You know, it's sexy."

"Tiffany, it was wrong. I shouldn't have looked."

"You're a guy and guys look. Well, they look at pretty girls so I take it as a compliment that you looked. I guess I'd be upset if you didn't look."

"You would?"

"Sure. And you know what?"

"What?"

Tiffany lowered her eyes and spoke in a soft voice. "Maybe I shouldn't say it."

"Tiffany, you can say anything you want."

"Well, it isn't only that you're a guy who looked at me that way. It's ... No, I can't tell you."

"Tiffany, I want you to tell me. Go ahead."

"Well, it's because it was you who looked. Oh gosh, I'm so embarrassed."

Tiffany covered her face with her hands but left just enough space between her fingers to peek through. Mr. Johnson's face had that uncertain look again and his hands were fumbling in his lap behind the desk. He stood up and walked around the desk. Tiffany glanced at his crotch and, although he tried to hide it, his cock was hard. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Tiffany, don't be embarrassed. I guess guys are no different than girls when it comes to the opposite sex. We like girls to notice us. And since I'm so much older than you--"

Tiffany dropped her hands into her lap and looked up at Mr. Johnson. "You're not old. You're so mature and sophisticated, not like the boys at college. I'd take you over any one of them. If I wasn't afraid of losing my job I'd..." She lowered her eyes.

"You'd what?" Tiffany heard the hope in his voice.

"You'd think me a child if I told you."

"Tiffany, whatever happens in this office stays in this office."

She looked up at him with big, doe-like eyes. "Do you mean that?"

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't."

Tiffany looked down again and forced herself to blush, another thing she learned in high school. She had been the envy of all her friends because none of them could do it. They could shed tears, but not blush.

She lowered her voice and said, "It's hard for me to be alone with you. I get so, um, aroused around you." Her head jerked up and then she dug her chin back into her chest. "I can't believe I told you that," she said in a low voice.

"I'm glad you did." Mr. Johnson's fingers tightened on her shoulder. "I feel the same way about you."

Tiffany's head shot up again and she said with exuberance, "You do? Do you really mean that?"

Tiffany jumped to her feet and stood toe to toe with Mr. Johnson, looking up into his eyes with a wanton expression she had developed by practicing in a mirror. She waited for him to make the first move, but he simply stared down at her. So the young vixen rose onto her toes and pressed her lips to his.

That was all the encouragement the man needed. He grabbed the back of her head and crushed his mouth to hers. His tongue met the resistance of her lips for only a fleeting instant and then plowed between them. His other hand clutched her back, pressing her tits into his body. His mouth moved from side to side and spittle dripped down her chin.

Mr. Johnson had the urgency of a teenage boy and Tiffany wondered how long it had been since he had sex. She knew he was a widower, but he wasn't a Catholic priest. He was rich and not bad looking so there should have been a lot of women his age available. But although he kissed her with passion, he did nothing more.

The saliva now dripped down Tiffany's neck but she didn't want to pull away from Mr. Johnson. She was afraid that if the spell was broken it might be lost forever. So she became the instigator. She wedged her thigh between his legs and pressed it against his hard cock.

The hand on her back slid down to her ass. He pulled her against him, grinding his groin into her leg. Tiffany was surprised at how strong Mr. Johnson was when he lifted her off the ground by the hand under her ass. When their groins were pressed together, she flung her right leg around his hip. That caused her short skirt to ride up and out of the way. She wrapped her arms around his neck and humped her panty covered crotch against his hard cock.

Mr. Johnson shuffled to his desk and lowered Tiffany onto the desktop. When he broke the kiss, Tiffany let her arms drop to her sides. Her legs were spread and her miniskirt was up around her waist. Mr. Johnson stared at her pink panties.

Tiffany saw the hesitation on her boss's face once again. Afraid to lose the gains she had made, she shoved her panties to her knees.