Warning:

No women with red hair, green eyes, or DDs. If that’s what presses your buttons – move on, nothing to see here.

“Best of luck today darling. You look great.” said Adam.

Rachel regarded herself in the hallway mirror. Not too shabby for mid-forties. The grey cashmere sweater was a present from a time when they’d had more money. It clung to her shapely breasts and waist. Accentuated with a slim blue belt. Her skirt was navy blue, knee-length and pleated. Getting on a bit now, but always in style. Black tights and mid-heel navy blue shoes.

“I got you a present.” said Adam. “Put these on.”

“We can’t afford presents.”

Then she saw what he’d got. Black seamed stockings.

“You were wearing black seamed stockings on your first date with me; though I didn’t know it at the time of course. And you were wearing them again when we went to get our first mortgage. You said they made you feel sexy, and brought you good luck. You needed a suspender belt in those days of course. But these are hold-ups.”

“We may need this job, but I don’t need to look sexy to get it. Times are tough, but we’re not that desperate.”

“Not yet we aren’t, no. But it’s not only about how you look, it’s about how you feel. And sex is power. You’ll see.”

He watched her pulling off the tights and putting on the stockings.

“Not too shabby for mid-forties.”

“I was just thinking that!”

“Well you’re right.” he continued, as she replaced her shoes. “You look great. Nobody will see them, but all through the interview, you’ll know.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.”

“I’m proud of you anyway for getting an interview. Good luck again. No pressure, just go and enjoy yourself.”

He kissed her goodbye and patted her bottom.

Sitting on the bus, Rachel knew he was just being supportive when he said there was no pressure. There was, and it was getting worse. She was taking the bus because they’d sold her car, rather than remortgage. The job market beckoned now, after years as a housewife, but it wasn’t looking hopeful.

In the early days of their marriage, Adam had been earning well at Clarksons, and preferred her not to work. And she’d enjoyed being a homemaker.

But now Clarksons was suffering in the recession. Last year there had been no cost of living pay rises. Vacancies were not being refilled, and there was a ban on promotions. And despite all Adam’s voluntary unpaid overtime, the redundancy threat was still looming.

This was the sixth job she’d applied for, but only her first interview. She’d been applying for secretarial positions for three months, but jobs were few and far between. This was the one she really wanted. The company was not big, but if they were recruiting, they must be doing well against the downward trend.

Her interview was with the Managing Director, and the Personnel Manager. Though these days they called that Human Resources. As she walked in, they both looked far too young for such positions. They were friendly and informal. She almost felt overdressed but thought Adam might be right about the stockings. They felt very ‘I know something you don’t know.’ Rachel noticed the Managing Director glanced at her knees a couple of times. She crossed her legs.

‘There’s nothing wrong with crossing my legs, every woman does it.’ she rationalised. ‘It’s not as if I’m flashing my knickers!’

On the way home, she recalled Adam’s comment. She’d said she wouldn’t need to look sexy to get a job. He had replied ‘Not yet.’ Did he mean there might come a time when he thought she would? Intriguing thought. Maybe she should ask him.

“So how did it go?”

“They’ll let me know, rather non-committal I’m afraid.”

“All right, but what do you think?”

“Difficult to tell. The Sales Manager I would be secretary to, wasn’t at the interview, just the MD and Personnel Manager. But I would say I am quietly hopeful.”

“You should have flashed your knickers.”

She looked in his eyes. Here was that sex thing again, Was he being serious?

“Only joking!”

“To tell the truth, I think wearing the stockings had the desired effect. On me of course, not them.”

Four days later, the lucky underwear seemed to be working its magic again. She wore the hold-ups to another interview with a different company, which also seemed to go well. She got home about lunchtime, to the smell of the casserole she’d left in the slow cooker. And an envelope on the doormat. Rachel lunched on a sandwich. The casserole was for her and Adam tonight. She opened the envelope.

“They’ve asked me in for a second interview on Friday.”

“What already?”

“Not today’s interview, the first one. This time it will just be with the guy I’ll be working for. The Sales Manager.”

“Makes sense. Those higher up the chain of command make sure they send the best candidates on for the second interview. Then your boss picks who he likes best. The directors don’t need to worry about which one, they’ve already selected.”

“Listen.” she continued. “Before, when I said we weren’t desperate enough for me to look sexy, you said ‘Not yet.’ What did you mean by that? Was it just a joke?”

He leaned forward. Looking suitably serious, he took her hands in his.

“While I’ve still got my job, yes, it’s just a joke. But only just. We’ve cut back everywhere we can. I’ve given up my boy’s night out with the pool team for a start.”

“And I’ve given up my girls’ Saturday at the wine bar.”

“I know you have. That was just an example - it’s not a competition. But we’ve reached the stage where we both need to work. At least till things pick up. So, let me say this. I love you and we’ll get through this rough patch together. But we know that sex and love are not the same thing. So the bottom line is: don’t tell me.”

“I see.”

“Clarksons are bidding for a big contract at the moment, and will start getting back on their feet if they win it. This could turn the corner for them. But if they don’t get it, they’ll be calling for volunteer redundancies. My computer skills are aligned to their exact requirements, which is both good and bad. On the one hand I should theoretically be the one of the last to go. But on the other, if they do let me go, I’ll be struggling to fit in anywhere else.”

Rachel waited in Reception for the second time. Kris, the Sales Manager, was running late. She was just considering a quick trip to the loo, when he rushed in.

“Mrs Nicholls?” She stood up.

“So sorry. I’m still waiting for an important call from Germany. You’re the last one I have to see. Would you like to reschedule?” They shook hands.

“Do you want to? I’m here now, might as well hang on.”

He paused.

“I worry I’m making you late too, but to be honest, I’d like to get this sorted by weekend.”

“I’ll wait then.”

And she knew immediately that was the right answer. Maybe he was testing her. Anyway, it wasn’t as if she had a busy schedule.

“Excellent.” he turned to the girl on the reception desk. “Sonia, get Mrs Nicholls a coffee, would you?”

As he rushed out, Rachel looked at Sonia and smiled.

“Skip the coffee thanks. What I need is the loo.”

The toilets were clean and modern. Now she wanted to work for this firm even more. She pulled up her black panties and adjusted her stockings. To flash, or not to flash? She pulled them up even further, until they cut into her.

“At last, Mrs Nicholls.”

“If it’s ok, I prefer Rachel.”

“Rachel it is. We’re all pretty informal here so call me Kris. Kris with a ‘K’. Thank you for being so patient.”

“No problem.”

It went well after that. He kept looking at her hair. It was dark brown, and she wore it in waves to just above her shoulders. Adam said the style looked a bit 1950s, but she preferred to think of it as retro. Anyway, Kris with a K seemed to like it. He made no effort to disguise his appraisal of her legs either. Perhaps the stockings were working their magic again. She crossed her legs slowly.

Kris made it clear he was less concerned with her CV and keyboard skills, and more interested in how she would fit in with the team. Although she would officially be his secretary, any member of his sales team could give her work. She would be expected to stay late if necessary. But if things were slack, she could knock off early, or shop in long lunchbreaks.

As the interview wound down, Rachel was feeling upbeat. Inevitably, they got to ‘Any Questions?’ She’d always been advised to ask a question, and could think of two.

“May I ask how come you are hiring staff, when so many other firms are laying people off?”

“Good question.” She crossed her lags again.

“Strictly speaking, we’re not. We did have four secretaries and needed to cut that to three. But when we asked for volunteers who might be willing to leave, we got two!”

“I see. And how many am I up against?”

His next response surprised her.

“How did you get here this afternoon Mrs Nicholls?”

“By bus.”

“Well it’s getting late now, and the traffic will be heavy.” he studied her CV. “Let me to give you a lift home, Chestnut Avenue is it? Once I’m out of the office, I might give you more information than I should.”

‘Subtle.’ she thought. ‘If I refuse, I come across as not trusting you. But if I get in the car with you, I’m inviting you to show me how you might be persuaded.’

“Thanks. Take me to your carriage sir!”

That must have been the stockings talking.

“Nice car. Yours or the company’s?”

“Mine. But we have an allowance, and an unofficial car status rule. My sales guys have Ford or Vauxhall Estates, as they frequently have to carry samples. I have an Audi as you see, one colleague has a BMW. Top brass buy Mercs.

It’s about image really, even your position is.”

“What is my image then?” She was proud of the ‘my’. It mentally projected her into the job.

“Skirts, dresses, like you are today. We don’t have an official dress code of course; we pretend we’re much too modern for that. But customers often visit our offices, and they’re welcome to wander round and check out our set-up. So in effect, any one of us might be on show.”

“Understood. Do I need to rethink my wardrobe?”

“Not at all. You look great.”

“Thank you. I promise I won’t rock the boat, and buy myself a Mercedes any time soon!”

He laughed and they set off.

“So my clothes are suitable for this job?”

“Good question.”

‘There, he’s said it again!’

“Let me tell you what I don’t like. My pet hate is female candidates who wear pretty skirts for the interview, then think they can slop around in jeans and T-shirts, after they’ve landed the job. Some of our ladies prefer to wear trousers when they’re having their periods. Entirely up to them of course, but I think it’s ill-advised.”

“Why is that?”

“Sorry to be so blunt, this is a bit embarrassing. Our sales force is all men. And most of them are not, shall we say, in touch with their feminine side. I know for a fact they observe when the women are wearing trousers, agree they must be having their periods, and bet on predicting what date the next one is due. Sorry to sound so intimate, but that’s the way they are.”

‘Being intimate may not be such a bad thing.’ she thought. ‘As long as I don’t tell Adam”’

“So, I should continue with this standard of dress?”

She’d done it again; imagined herself into the job. She was wearing much the same as at the first interview. This time with a peach coloured blouse and red shoes.

“Yes, you look perfect; understated glamour.”

“Thank you.” She crossed her legs again.

“You asked how many you’re up against.” he continued.

“Yes. But only tell me if you’re allowed. I wouldn’t want to get you into trouble.”

“That’s the first thing you’ve got wrong Mrs Nicholls. Getting me into trouble might get you the job!”

Kris grinned and pulled over into the free carpark that serviced the local library. It had closed some hours ago but the carpark stayed open till eleven. Nobody lived near here, and there were not many shops, so this time of day, it was empty. He parked under a tree. When they were stationary, he leaned over to the back seat. His armpit was inches from her face, as he stretched. He smelled of old deodorant and fresh sweat. She felt a strong tingle from somewhere above the stocking tops. Kris retrieved his briefcase, put it on his lap, and extracted two sheets of paper. Then turned on the interior light. They were contracts. Identical but for the names at the top. One said Rachel Nicholls and the other said Judith Greene.

“There was a third candidate up for the second interview, but I rejected her. She was wearing baggy trousers and purple lipstick. At Ms Greene’s second interview yesterday, she was informed I will telephone her on Monday with my decision. Now sign and date yours at the bottom. Here, rest it on the briefcase.”

She signed, aware of the space for a second signature under hers, and he put his case back on the rear seat. Then he handed her Judith Greene’s contract.

“Two contracts, one of which will be signed by me. Ms Greene is younger than you, and has more up-to-date work experience. But I have reservations about her as a team player. Either one of you is a logical choice, and higher management will expect me to choose the more experienced candidate. So if I choose you, I will tell them I felt you would fit in with the team better. There will not be any come-back of course; it’s my decision. But they will be keeping an eye on you for a while, to confirm I was right. All you have to do is show me I’m right.”

“How?”

“Think in terms of you getting what you want, and me getting what I want. Another contract if you will. I find you very attractive Mrs Nicholls, and see nothing wrong with preferring attractive people on my sales team.”

“I understand.”

“So, it’s decision time. Put Ms Greene’s contract on the back seat, and I’ll take you home. I’ll phone you Monday and let you know my decision.”

“Or?”

“Or, you can turn out the light, and in a few minutes time, rip up her contract. You are much sexier than her, and you’re not even trying. She flirted with me, but you didn’t. I did not make her this offer.”

Rachel reached up between them, and turned off the interior light.

‘Actually, I did flirt with you.’ she thought. ‘I was just more subtle than my rival. Those years of experience count for something after all.’

He put one hand under her chin and kissed her, then lowered it to her breast. She instinctively kissed him back. Part of her felt like a teenager again, making out in a dark car. But last time she’d done this, she was single.

She put one hand behind his head and pulled his face into hers. Their tongues explored each other and his hand squeezed her breast, then slipped down to her waist.

Rachel thought he was acting like a teenager, wondering how far e could go, rather than a manager. She grasped his wrist, pushed his hand down to her knees, and opened them. His hand slid up her skirt and he moaned into her mouth, when he discovered her stocking tops and. He fondled her through the her panties, and she knew it must be damp down there. She was expecting a finger to slip under her knickers and explore her cunt, but Kris had other ideas.

He sat back and she heard the unmistakeable sound of him undoing his belt. She helped him open his trousers and unzipped his fly, gripped his erection through his pants and put her head in his lap. She kissed all around that big hard shape, under the cotton. He sighed. Rachel opened her mouth and took the head of his penis in, still through his underpants. She couldn’t see much, but her other senses were working fine. His briefs were not particularly clean. Rachel was smelling, and tasting, old dried piss and pre-cum; he was probably single and couldn’t be bothered to change them every day. He raised himself from the driver’s seat as he pulled his briefs down to his knees. His erection jumped up and hit her in the face.

“I have a condition before I continue.” she said, knowing he would agree to pretty much anything at the moment...

“Stop calling Mrs Nicholls.”

“OK.”

He was an attractive man, and younger than Adam, who had effectively offered her a ‘Get Out Of Jail Free’ card. She would play it now. Kris was going to settle for a blowjob, and couldn’t know it, but she would be willing to have full sex if he asked. If he ordered.

. Her left hand cupped his testicles and her right gripped the shaft of his penis. It tasted stale as she sucked it into her mouth, but that was to be expected after a long day at work. She knew most men only gave it a quick shake after peeing. On occasions, she’d sucked Adam off as soon as he’d arrived home, and this was not much worse.

He didn’t speak while she pleasured him, just sighed. She soon had her nose touching his pubic hair. She didn’t need him to tell her she was good at this; she knew. As he ejaculated, he leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head, Adam always pushed the back of her neck down.

She made sure everything stayed in her mouth, rather than down her throat. She loved the taste of cum, and sometimes you missed out on that when it shot directly into your throat. Finally, she gripped his penis with her thumb and forefinger and squeezed it from testicles to head.

“Very thorough.” he said, pulling his clothes back up. “You can start on the first Monday of next month.”

But she was barely listening, concentrating on tearing up Judith Greene’s contract into smaller and smaller pieces.

He drove out of the carpark.

“By the way, the contract includes something you probably didn’t notice. Very small print.”

“Oh no, please tell me I don’t have to give oral sex to the whole sales team!”

“Hah! They’d enjoy that!”

‘I might enjoy it to!’ she thought.

“No, it’s the probationary period. During the first three months, either party can call it a day by giving a week’s notice, no questions asked. I will review your performance at the end of each month, and have to report that interview back up the chain.”

“Yes I saw that part.”

“But what you probably didn’t see was where it states your salary increases by £300 a year, after that three months. We don’t make it clear to applicants at the application stage.”

“Oh, that’s good news. Thanks.”

He dropped her off at the house and walked her to the door, like a real gentleman. But unlike a gentleman, he kissed her in the darkness under the porch, and squeezed her bottom.

She went in, and Adam was waiting for her.

“You’re late. Problem?”

“No, the guy I had to see this afternoon was running late. He offered to reschedule, but I thought I should show willing and wait.”

“Quite right too. So, how did it go?”

“He’ll call me Monday, but I think I’ve got it!”

“That’s fantastic!” shouted Adam. “Well done you! I’ll open that bottle of Vintage red we hung on to. We’ll celebrate!”

“No, I think we should wait until it’s confirmed, dear.”

He grabbed her and kissed her. Rachel worried he might get a taste of Kris’s cum from her mouth, but he didn’t notice anything.

“My clever, sexy wife.” he said.

Adam pulled her closer and ran his hands up the back of her skirt and squeezed he buttocks. She panicked. If he felt any further to the front he was going to find out how wet she was.

“Did you flash these at him?”

He tugged her panties away from her buttocks and she felt the air cooling them. She stepped back, disengaging him, and raised her right hand.

“I swear. He has not set eyes on these panties!”

‘His hands, yes. But not his eyes.’

He smiled at her.

“Only joking.”

He grabbed her again, lifted her skirt and pulled them down to her thighs. His fingers pulled her cheeks apart and he slipped one into her anus.

“Well if we can’t celebrate with wine, I fancy some dark hole action tonight!”

They both enjoyed anal sex, but it mostly seemed to be part of their repertoire on special occasions. Rachel had told him in the past, she thought the term brown eye was unpleasant, so he always referred to it as her dark hole. She liked that – it sounded more mysterious. But right now she was worried that her gusset was actually sticking to her pubic hair. She pushed him gently away.

“Down boy! All the dark hole you want, but later. But right now, I’m starving.” she said. “And I need a pee!”

“Dinner’s ready, I’ll dish it up.” he said.

In the toilet, she gave herself a comprehensive wipe. She was still tingling down there, but at least now she was dry. She slipped into the bedroom and changed her panties. The dirty ones were dropped into the laundry basket, where they landed with a slight thud. At dinner she warned him:

“Don’t get too carried away yet, I’ve still got to get through that three month probationary period.”

“No sweat. I’m sure you won’t blow that!”

She couldn’t help but grin.

That night Adam made love to her for the first time in weeks. She enjoyed the anal sex, as always, but especially enjoyed his excitement. The work worries had been wearing him down and she was glad he was back in form. He was right of course. Love and sex are two different things, and she loved Adam. But she had to admit that sex without love, made her wetter.

Rachel’s first day was mostly orientation and meeting people whose names she tried hard to remember. It was hold-up stockings all the way now - she was scared she might break the spell. Though not all were black and seamed. Kris wasn’t in that day, so there was not much ‘real’ work to do.

He returned next day, and Rachel soon got into the swing of things. She often found herself standing at Kris’s shoulder, while he checked her work. But there were no more sexual requests. She was relieved in a way. It was one thing to suck the man off to get the job, but she didn’t fancy having to continue doing it, to keep it. Or didn’t think she would, anyway.

“Another few checks and we can stop doing this.” he said, in the second week. “You’re picking it up quickly.”

But a few days before her monthly review, he called her into his office and told her to close the door. There was a glass wall, so anyone could look in, but this felt ominous. He told her to stand beside him. She leaned over the desk, to look at the quotation she’d just completed.

“What’s this?”

She saw it as soon as he pointed it out. 100,000 items instead of 10,000.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

She was about to stand upright again when she felt his hand slide up the back of one leg. It seemed appropriate to stay put.

“To present a buyer with a contract bid, that has errors of grammar or spelling, even a typo, reflects badly on us. But to add an extra zero, is disastrous. You understand if this had been signed, it could have cost us thousands of pounds. Hundreds of thousands. Not the kind of amount we could stop out of your wages, even if you did keep the job!”

All the time he was speaking, his hand ran firmly up her thigh. It explored her stocking top and moved on until it was wedged between her thighs. She kept her position as he fondled her through her panties. They were both facing the door, but anyone glancing in would not notice.

“I did tell you to get the guys to give their own contracts the once over before you sent them for signing. They have a vested interest in ensuring they’re right, and Nick would have spotted this immediately. I shouldn’t have to check details like this, only sign. Understood?”

“Yes Kris.”

He continued his attention to her thighs. His hand was gripping her crutch now, and his scratching around the gusset was making her wet. He slipped his fingers inside her panties, and thrust two into her vagina, none too gently. He finished with a sharp pinch.

She gasped and Kris told her to go around the desk and sit in her usual chair, facing him.

“Part of my contract, requires me to report to the MD, any mistakes you make, during your probationary period. If I tell him about this, he will start sitting in on your reviews. And your probation will be extended. But if I don’t tell him, I’m running the risk he might find out, which will reflect badly on me. So if I take that risk, you must also take one. Think in terms of what you did in my car.”

“I understand.”

“In future, when you sit there, you will wear no panties. Occasionally you should raise one knee, and cross and uncross your legs, showing me your cunt. Your back is to the door, so no-one will see what I can see. Panties will mean you are having your period.”

“No problem.”

“Clearly you have to be constantly checked. So when you show me your work, you will stand here where you did just now, and expect my hand up your skirt each time. Opening your thighs is considered good team work.”

“I understand.”

“Finally, when you go back to your desk, book a double room at The Globe Hotel this Friday; we have an account there. Make it for the last Friday of the next three months. I’ll be doing your reviews there. Tell your husband you’ll be away for a night – sales seminars. I expect you to demonstrate your regret at this mistake. It will require more than just a blowjob.”

“Of course.”

“Now go and retype that contract.”

“Good day?” asked Adam.

“Not really.”

She told him about the error she’d made. But not about the new contract with her manager. It was one thing for her husband to agree in principle, to her indulging in sexual favours to keep the job. But it was quite another to tell him she was going to spend the night in a hotel with another man, giving him ‘more than just a blowjob’.

“But they got it sorted out though?”

“Yes. But I’ll have to be more careful in future. By the way, I have to attend their monthly sales seminars, so I’ll be away for the night. At least for the next three months.”

“No problem. Maybe you can show willing and make up for your mistake. Oil the wheels kind of thing.”

“Good idea!”

The flashing and groping continued for the rest of that week. Rachel was fascinated by the way Kris blatantly licked his fingers after they’d been inside her. To show willing, she bought a shorter skirt. And most days she turned her usual skirts over at the waist to shorten them. After she arrived in the building of course. She had to visit the toilets on arrival anyway to remove her panties. As for her night away at the ‘seminar’, the Globe Hotel was on the far side of the city, where she was unlikely to run across anyone she, or Adam, knew.

On that Friday night, they dropped off their overnight bags in their room, and went down to dinner. She was trembling with anticipation and realised she was enjoying not being in control. Her love life with Adam was more than satisfying, and they’d sampled most things on the sex menu. But that was love and consideration; her husband tended to ask for what he wanted. Kris demanded. This was a new feeling, being taken for granted. He even ordered their meals without consulting her.

“Apart from that one glitch, you’ve done well. I hope you learned a lesson.”

“I certainly did.” agreed Rachel.

“Good. I want you for dessert. We’ll go to our room.”

He removed trousers and boxers half way across the room, and pushed her roughly onto the bed.

“Hold it open for me.” he ordered.

No panties of course – tonight of all nights. She reached round her thighs and pulled her vulva open. He gazed at it for a moment, then dived in and licked her clitoris, and wriggled his tongue inside her. Just as she thought she might climax, he withdrew.

“I’ve tasted a few cunts Rachel, but yours is delicious!”

“Thank you – I think!”

“Do you like the taste of it?”

“Sorry?”

He thrust two fingers into her and transferred them to her mouth. She licked him clean. She was no stranger to her own juices – Adam often finished her in her mouth.

“Yes I’m delicious!”

“Open it up again. Time for the main event.”

She lifted her knees back to her shoulders. Rachel’s breasts were feeling rather neglected; he hadn’t even touched them. Still, she was his to use as he wished. He pounded into her with more aggression than passion. He bent his face to hers and kissed her. She tasted her own cunt again on his lips. The tonguing triggered his climax and he shot his sperm into her. She felt disappointed. A dozen pushes and it was over. Semen oozed onto her skirt.

“You’re probably thinking that was a bit quick. I make no apologies for that – I’m a repeater.”

“A what?”

“A repeater. I’ll be ready to fuck you again in less than ten minutes. My ex-wife took a while to get used to it.”

“Now. Pick up my clothes, fold them neatly and go to the bathroom and douche thoroughly.”

“It doesn’t prevent pregnancy you know, and I am on the pill.”

“I know that, but I might want to go down on you again later. You may like the taste of my sperm, but I won’t.”