Chapter 1

I tried not to react too much as the next applicant came in. Girls don’t like being stared at - especially ones that look like this girl.

She was far, far too young to be secretary to the boss of a company of course - sixteen is hardly more than a child really; fresh out of school and probably knowing nothing. Only a complete pervert would have given her an interview.

BUT ... somehow I’d been right - she was so beautiful I’d pay her to sit in a corner so I could look at her.

How I’d picked up that she might be like this, just from her application form, I wasn’t sure. Perhaps subconsciously I’d guessed that a sixteen-year-old had to have some reason for thinking she might be in the running, when what I’d advertised for was a “capable, reliable secretary / p.a.”?

In my mind’s eye I was advertising for a thirty-year-old, perhaps. Ideally on the glamorous side, to be sure, and between relationships possibly, who knew ... but someone who knew how a managing director’s office ought to be run, anyway, since I didn’t have much of a clue.

I could only suppose that young Natasha Byrne had guessed that I might be tempted to interview a sixteen-year-old, just in case she was hot?

Not that this sweet teen seemed vain, to be fair. Rather diffident, if anything. Why she wanted this job I didn’t understand either - surely she could have done a lot of things? Or just stayed at school - her grades were reasonable enough.

Anyway, here she was, by some miracle. I got my brain back in gear and waved her towards the chair on the far side of my desk: “Hello Natasha, thank you for coming.”

“Hello,” she sat, giving me a nervous but delectable little smile, “thank you for seeing me”.

“So would you like to tell me a bit about yourself?” I started the interview. “Why you want the job, for example, and why you’ve left school?” It was July and the school year had just ended, but this was a permanent appointment.

“I don’t want to go back to school,” she told me quietly, “and this job came up.”

She’d answered the question, as far as she was concerned.

“I was really looking for someone with experience, you see,” I prompted her. The naiveté was both appalling and delicious.

“Oh I see...” she looked down, then up. ‘Hope dashed’ was written over her lovely young face. She shifted in her chair as though to get up and leave.

“Though we can provide training, of course,” I added hastily. “What aspects of the job would you be looking forward to, would you say?”

“I’ll like being in an office,” she offered. “I can type, with two fingers, you know, but quite quickly anyway, and ... use computers and everything. I could write letters, and answer the phone, and ... do filing, I expect...”

I struggled through the interview with her, revising the job description on the fly as I went. Anything Natasha couldn’t do either would be part of the learning process or could be done by somebody else.

In twenty minutes I ended it, finding the effort of not blatantly ogling her was getting too much. Establishing that she was available to start straight away, I told her I’d see the other applicants and let her know.

The door closed behind her and I reviewed what I’d just seen: a lissom, glowing brunette beauty. About five feet five, and very slender indeed. Amazing face, gorgeous skin, large green eyes, wavy brown hair down to her shoulder blades that just begged to be sniffed and have my fingers run through. God! Slender neck, slender arms and everything else. The way she moved, even, was so feminine. Her hands, fingers ... the fingernails polished but uncoloured, not too long, so naturally perfect...

For an old perv like me to have such a girl around in close proximity all day was more than I’d even dreamed. Thank Christ one of my inventions had finally taken off and got me the factory and into this ball-tingling situation.

I locked my door, got the Vaseline out and had a nice long wank. After I’d got my breath back I called Natasha and gave her the job, starting tomorrow. I couldn’t wait.

The next day she arrived, looking as gorgeous as I remembered, though rather conservatively dressed in trousers and jacket. I showed her round the building, the computer and phone system. She was interested and cordial, but quite reserved.

I found myself hoping the personal space between us would shrink from the rather large envelope she was choosing, even while telling myself it was idiotic: I’m a fifty-two-year-old man, happily married for twenty-seven years, and she’s sixteen.

For goodness’ sake! Though my wife Tessa is my age and lost interest in sex quite a few years ago, so sometimes I can kid myself it’s not too terrible to dream. And in principle, if she didn’t want it, where would be the harm?

Anyway Natasha’s conversation was equally reserved: “okay”, “I see” and “thank you” was pretty much all she said for the first half hour. Over coffee later on I got her to open up a bit, and tell me about where she lives and a bit about her parents and sister and their dog, but still I was aware (because I was looking for it) that she would become chatty only at a distance, across a desk or from a few yards away.

Well at least I got to look at her some more, absorbing the impression of slim but nicely muscled ass and thighs, and when she took her jacket off her waist looked sensationally small, setting off her lovely straight shoulders and high, pert tits. I don’t go much for big tits, I like them firm more than anything else, and these were perfect.

She was demure, modest and sweet-natured. Quite shy, but not with a poor opinion of herself; it was more unassertive than low self-esteem. There was a vulnerability about her though, which made her fantastically appealing.

She was still reserved, so with small talk exhausted I went back into my own office. It was going to be impossible to look at her as much as I wanted. She was being polite but a bit cool if anything; not unfriendly but not exactly encouraging much of a personal relationship either. My idiotic fantasies would have to remain fantasies.

To be absolutely, shamefully honest, at some levels it was a relief: a girl that beautiful was not meant for me. Nor was a girl her age of course. Altogether her effect on me was a bit scary, even though it was what I was arranging.

I went onto eBay and bought some spy cameras. Yes it was pervy, but I was out of control. With video I could lust after her without getting involved - it had a lot going for it.

The next day was much the same, with no encouragement from Natasha, and a slight but definite movement away from me if I got too close. Clearly that’s how it was going to be. Anyway I was used to not getting much action with women, so it was no surprise. Not that I’d seriously tried in decades of course, but when I had tried I hadn’t met with a lot of success.

The next day the ‘security’ camera kit arrived and in the evening I set it up so that I could watch my teen secretary at her desk. It was quite easy: my desk faces the door and so she couldn’t see what was on my monitor until she came round - there would always be time to switch away from the pictures. And I could tell her I was not to be interrupted for a while, quietly lock the door and have a wank with her all unknowing on my screen.

In the morning it all worked and it was better than nothing, but the low camera pointing under her desk was a waste of time with her trousers, so at the end of the afternoon I had a word.

“I think you’ve been making a good start, Natasha; in fact your starting salary is bit low for what you’ve been doing so I’m going to put it up a bit”. What she’d been doing was actually just some very simple phone answering, fetching visitors from the lobby and internet searching, but it was unlikely she’d argue.

“Oh thank you!” said the teen with an all too rare brilliant smile.

“The one thing,” I continued, doing my best to keep talking smoothly “is that it would probably be better for a professional secretary to be wearing a skirt or dress, if you have one?”.

“Oh yes,” she replied, picking up on the ‘professional’, “I’ve got quite a few. I’ll wear one tomorrow.”

She duly appeared the next day in a skirt, which to my relief was just above knee-length and gave me a faint view of her panties as she sat at her desk.

I spent a good part of the day with my cock in my hand looking at the video, which was quite nice, but the conversation was if anything slightly more formal than before. I guessed she’d half tuned into my ulterior motives on the skirt thing; not enough to go against me and wear trousers, but enough to start being a bit wary. Fortunately the cameras were tiny and she had no idea about them.

Over the next couple of weeks things carried on much the same, although I found that after all I couldn’t help making tentative attempts to get closer to her. I was being politely rebuffed, inevitably, but she made me feel constantly aroused, even more than my usual oversexed self.

It was stupid but I was disappointed. I felt I’d been getting more confident now I was making money, and I’d got into a positive cycle of a better feeling about myself, better clothes and some sport again so I was in pretty good shape for a fifty-two-year-old. But no interest from Natasha.

It was obvious and inevitable, but frustrating nevertheless. The video was making things worse, not better, but I couldn’t stop watching. Her presence was having a maddening effect on me. I could barely cope with being around her, but I couldn’t bear to part with her either.

In the end I decided the solution was to add another secretary, and this time I’d make damn sure there was some chemistry, if I had to interview a thousand girls! I had Natasha to do the donkey work and she could jolly well do it. Also I’d be clear about what I was after this time. I had the power and the money.

“Trainee Secretary Required, £25k pa, Suit School Leaver” I headed my new advert. There. That ought to do it. Yes I knew I should have advertised for a mature, experienced person, but by now my hormones were running the show.

With that salary the applications flooded in and I had Natasha filter them, first by age and then with a quick interview so I could get a look at them through the cameras.

All the candidates I selected for initial interview were young and unmarried, and each interviewee had to sit in Natasha’s office and answer a very few questions before being quickly sent on their way.

I pretended to read Natasha’s notes about each one to select the ones to interview myself, but simply selected the ones who seemed sexiest on video. It was blatant, but I was past caring.

It took a long time and many applications but the seventeenth one I picked for my own interview struck gold.

Sara Thomas opened the door wide. Nothing apologetic about her, was my very first impression.

I already knew she was even younger than Natasha, and had also just left school at the earliest opportunity. She was quite short, compact, and radiated energy. Thick, wavy blonde hair framed a round face with a wide mouth and grey eyes that twinkled with confidence and fun. Unlike Natasha’s her skirt was short. I regretted having her chair on the other side of the desk.

“So would you like to tell me a bit about yourself?” I began the interview as usual. “Why you want the job, for example, and why you’ve left school?”

“Well I was more kicked out really,” she grinned at me, her face mobile, expressive and magnetically alive. “Do you want the short version, or the whole thing? It’s a bit naughty, in some ways.” She wasn’t being disrespectful, but there was a striking lack of deference.

Naughty? “The full version,” I smiled. She was quick. Charismatic. She was raising a little tingle in my balls already.

“I do trampoline and gym and diving, or I did, and my coach and his girlfriend, who was our French teacher, used to go all over the gym in the nude, after it closed,” she started.

I held my breath. All those trigger words in one sentence...

“They ... made love ... on all the equipment: the bars, horse, everything. I used to stay behind in the showers and then watch them. In the end I hid inside the old horse and had them ... doing it, you know, right on top of me, it was so cool, but they moved it and bashed my toes and I went and said ‘Ow’. They lifted the top off and there I was, totally busted.”

Chapter 2 »