The ad seemed simple enough. “Help wanted. Full-time work in a professional atmosphere. Duties include but are not limited to...” All that corporate jazz. I wasn’t in love with the work life, but my mom sure wanted me out of the house and working again, so I wore my best suit ready and made an appointment.

I wasn’t really thrilled with the suit. I was more of a dress girl myself, but hey, ‘dress for the job you want.’ And I wanted the job. Living rent-free with my mom sounded great in theory, but the lack of freedom was ... restricting. She cooked the meals for the two of us, which was definitely kind, but ... I kind of missed having autonomy over my own meals. If I skipped a meal, like a good mom, she’d ask why. Then I’d tell her I had a fast food meal with my friends, and even though she likely didn’t care ... some part of me just felt guilty.

Staying out late wasn’t something she forbade, but she was a light sleeper and I was kind of clumsy. I’m sure if I asked, I could bring a boyfriend or something over, but ... yeah. If you know, you know. There was no way in hell I was doing that while I still lived with her.

I wanted my own place, living in the city by my own means. And she wanted me to make good use of my business degree. So, here I was, at Parallax Systems, with precisely zero previous work in the office industry, looking up at the several-stories-tall building, doing my best not to get cold feet.

Like all office buildings, the place was a maze, though luckily a helpful worker at the front of the building gave me the directions where to go. It was one of those buildings that had several corporations in it, so I had to go through several hallways and two elevators just to find my way.

At the end of the last hallway, I saw a window into another room with the blinds down. The window read, “Parallax Systems: The Optimal Solution.” God knows your business would fail if your tagline actually included what you sell. Giving a sharp exhale and clearing my throat, I opened the door to find a waiting room of sorts, with some kind of secretary typing away.

Like me, she was wearing a grey suit, but unlike me, it complimented her black skin beautifully. I was always a little embarrassed of my paleness – it seemed like no matter how hard I tried to tan, I’d either remain painfully white or get badly burned. She had a kind of stern face when she typed, but the rest of her was hidden behind her computer and desk. Upon seeing me, her stern face disappeared, revealing instead a dazzling smile that almost made me think she was in the wrong industry.

“Hello there! I assume you’re Rachel?”

I smiled. “Yes, I am!”

“Hi, I’m Jennifer. Welcome to Parallax! Mr. Laurent is just finishing up a meeting right now, but he’ll buzz me as soon as he’s done. Would you care to take a seat?”

“Oh,” was all I said in response. I could get flustered easily, and it was clear this poor woman had to do a lot of PR work given her professional voice. I walked over to the chairs on the other side of the room and sat down, playing with my thumbs.

I think I just wanted to be distracted by anything rather than thinking about the upcoming interview, but Jennifer was distractingly attractive. God knows I wasn’t thinking about it for any reason other than jealousy – I didn’t swing that way – but she was the type of person who was definitely a headturner.

I know everyone goes crazy for blue eyes, and call me a self-hater, but I wasn’t crazy about my own blue eyes. Blue eyes just didn’t do it for me. Jennifer’s were a beautiful light brown, the rare kind of eyes you only see once a year or something, the kind that make you stop in your tracks and say, “Woah.” My own blond hair was done up hastily in a kind of ponytail, but Jennifer had these natural braids going on that drove me wild with envy. They looked so good on her that I began to feel as though I should have spent more time on my hair, in case this was a thing Mr. Laurent liked in his employees or something.

I frowned and looked down. It probably was not helping my confidence to keep comparing myself to this woman, especially a woman already working for Mr. Laurent, and trying to look for differences. Something in the air was making me nervous. It was likely the impending doom of the interview coming up, but ... if felt like there was something else going on.

Was it the temperature? No, it wasn’t too hot or anything. The place had that ‘corporate air conditioner’ vibe to it, where it was slightly colder than it probably should have been, but not cold enough to be bothersome. Well, if it wasn’t the temperature, what could it have bee-

“Oh, by the way, did you happen to bring a second copy of your resume with you?” Jennifer interrupted me out of nowhere.

I shifted in my seat. “Uh, no, should I have?”

“No, no, it’s okay. I was just thinking, perhaps to help you out, I could look over your resume before the interview began, just in case there’s something I know Mr. Laurent will point out or something.” She flashed me another smile. “Just looking out for you!”

“Oh, that’s s-sweet,” I replied. What was wrong with me? “Are y-you sure? I don’t want to distract you from your work.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me!” she replied, smiling warmly. “I’m, uh, actually nearly finished my workload for the day.”

I looked at the clock, then back at her. “It’s not even lunch yet!”

She chuckled and gave me another dazzling smile. “What can I say? My hands know how to get the job done.”

The way she said it wasn’t suggestive or anything, just said factually, but I could feel myself blushing. I could be a little crowd-shy at times, but I never got this flustered usually. What was I on?

I turned away to my tote bag, hoping to hide my face from her until my blushing went away, and retrieved my resume from my bag. “I just have the one, but if you want, we could go over it, if you want.”

She smiled at me, clearly used to flustered behavior from interviewees. “Sounds like a plan,” she laughed. “May I see it?”

I handed the paper to her, for some reason deciding to avoid looking her in the eye. I needed my iconic steely resolve that everyone totally knew me for, so I couldn’t spend it frivolously on anyone but my interviewer.

She smiled and raised her eyebrows at me as she took the paper, accidentally touching one of my fingers in the process. For whatever reason, I retracted my hand and went quickly to sit back down, leaving her to look over my resume while I sat, waited, and moved my thighs together in my seat.

After a few seconds, she lifted her head to where she thought I was, then confusedly looked over to where I was. A confused expression still painted on her face, she half-chuckled at me. “Don’t you want to go over this together?” she asked me, a melodic tone to her voice.

“Uh ... oh,” I mumbled, getting up, squeezing my legs together subconsciously. “Yeah, of course.” I walked over to her, leaning against the desk and craning my neck so I could get a better view.

Of the resume. The resume. Don’t get me wrong, from my point of view, it would have been all too easy to get a look down her suit jacket if I wanted to, but this was a professional work environment, she might have been a future coworker, and plus, I wasn’t into girls. It just wasn’t me.

Jennifer started going over the resume with me, pointing out certain things on the paper and explaining to me which things I should emphasize and which things I should skip over, supplementing the advice wirth pointers about Mr. Laurent, the types of questions he sometimes asked, and what he’s looking for as answers. Eventually I had to put a hand down on the paper and stop her.

“Jennifer ... if I can, uh, call you Jennifer...” I clumsily began. I was definitely blushing. I had no clue why though.

She laughed puzzledly. “Feel free! I mean, that is my name...”

“I really appreciate this, but ... why are you helping me out like this? Do you help out all of the people that come here looking for a job?”

Jennifer looked down and bit her lip, smirking. I felt my suit jacket get tighter across my breasts. I shifted in place. “Okay, fine, you got me,” she half-laughed. “Truth is, Mr. Laurent has a bit of a ... standard around here. A few basic expectations. And along the way, I’ve gotten to understand a lot of those expectations, and make a couple of my own. So, I help those who...” She looked back up at me. “ ... I want to get the job. You know, my favorites.”

My breath was caught in my throat. I squeezed my thighs together again. Was I getting ... wet? No. This had to be some kind of coincidence or something. I gave a nervous chuckle and looked back at her. “And I’m ... one of your favorites?”

She gave me that brilliant smile. The one I was weak for. “You’re certainly impressing so far. I’m just doing what I can to help someone out. Us girls sticking together.”

I looked from the paper slowly back to her face. She said nothing, but smiled at me and looked back down at my resume. Her scent was so strong it practically clouded my vision. I couldn’t describe her scent – some kind of combination of perfume, something deep and fruity, mixed with ... something else deep. It’s like, a smell you’ve smelled before once, but only once, and it’s the best thing on the planet. You just want to keep inhaling it forever. Forever.

“Did you hear me?” Jennifer’s voice brought me back to life. “Your mind seems ... elsewhere.”

I gave my head a shake. “Uh, sorry. Nerves. Could you repeat that?”

Jennifer stared at me for a few seconds and finally cleared her throat. “Is something going on, Rachel?” she asked me.

“No, nothing,” I lied. Of course something was wrong, I could feel a heat growing between my legs, burning brighter by the second, to the extent where I wasn’t going to be able to stand for much longer. “Just nerves!”

“Because it seems like something is wrong,” Jennifer continued, standing up. “And if something is bothering you, we can’t have you seeing Mr. Laurent like that.” She was maybe a few inches from my face. “And as his secretary, it’s my duty to make sure the interview goes as smoothly as it can,” she continued, speaking just above a whisper.

I couldn’t ignore it anymore. No, fuck it, I couldn’t take it anymore. My poor pussy was practically pulsing in my pants. I didn’t know what was going on today, or what came over me, but I needed this woman, badly. I didn’t care how, but I did care when – right now.

I don’t know who made the first move, me or her. I didn’t care. Within a second, our open mouths were attacking each other, our bodies practically sealed by the lips, with our well-dressed bodies mashing and grinding up against each other, all attempts at subtlety and politeness gone. I melted, bringing my arms around Jennifer, and in response, she grabbed my body, still kissing me passionately, and slammed me against the wall, making a worryingly loud noise. Her tongue invaded my mouth as she ground her hips against me with a purpose and passion I had never felt before for any man. All I could do was attempt to keep up and take her tongue and submit to her, which I eagerly did.

I have no clue how much time had passed before she finally retracted her mouth and loosened her grip on me. When she did, she smiled at me through mischievous, half-squinted eyes, like I was a conquest she had won or something. I had been with so many men that thought they came across like that, or that they were these alpha wolves that had me begging and subservient for them, but I never felt anything like what I felt for this woman right at this moment. Still looking at me, she made her way over to the front door, locking it, inspecting the blinds in front of the window afterwards. After she was satisfied that no one could peek in, she put a finger to her lips and picked up her phone, dialing one number and putting it to her ear.

“Hi, Mr. Laurent? ... Yes, I’m with her now ... Actually, we were hoping to get a bit longer in the pre-interview ... yes, that’s right, just a few things. You understand, right? ... Wonderful! ... Yes, we would, is it too much to ask the others to use the back entrance if they need to? ... Fantastic, thank you so much.” She put down the phone and looked at me hungrily. “We have the room to ourselves.”

Even though I was wet and never wanted anyone more, the extremeness of the situation was starting to get to me. “C-can we know for sure that no one is going to just burst in on us? A-and the noise-”

Jennifer put her finger to my lips and donned her most innocent expression. “Good employees know how to say many things in few words,” she told me in a very serious, yet almost sickeningly sweet voice. “And as we all know, actions speak louder than words.”

With that, she launched on me again, pushing me back against the wall, aiming for my neck this time. All thoughts of nervousness and ‘what if’ left my brain as I could think about nothing but her hot lips on my neck, her hips pushing and grinding against mine, and the moans coming out of my mouth without my thinking, moans I had never even heard myself make before.

I ground my hips back against her and felt the very welcome intrusion of her teeth in my neck, biting down hard, but not too hard. Enough to make me whimper and squirm. While I was busy being enveloped by the pleasure of her kisses and bites on my neck, Jennifer was busy working my suit jacket off, and once I had come back to the land of the living enough to realize what she was doing, I helped her work my jacket off, rewarding her with a view of my white undershirt. It was clear from her hungering glance that she wanted to see me with the shirt off too, but she was preoccupied with her own suit jacket first.

I gasped when it came off. Even through her work shirt, it was clear that Jennifer wasn’t wearing a bra! She noticed where I was staring and gave a low laugh. “Surprised?” she asked seductively, her voice like butter, as she undid her buttons one by one. “Ever played with a woman’s boobs before?” she asked knowingly, nearly all of the buttons undone.

I shook my head dumbly, staring at her chest.