There was something about her that drove men wild.
She wasn't the prettiest woman in the world. But she was attractive and striking with a nice smile, big brown eyes, and long, dark hair.
She was Hispanic. She didn’t have the type of porn star body that makes men rave, but she was lean and fit with small shoulders and a long neck. She had a small ass and strong thighs and tits that seemed just a bit too large for her small frame.
She was intelligent, witty, confident and professional. She was well-dressed - usually very conservatively. She came across as an over-achiever and a bit of a goody-goody. She'd even gone to a Catholic high school. Yet there was something else there. Something sly and mischievous just beneath the surface.
Or maybe that was just my imagination.
But there was definitely something about her that could make a man drool.
Especially as you spent more time around her.
And I was around her all damn day. Almost every day.
I hadn't hired her just for her looks. Even the most wholesome guy probably has that fantasy from time to time--of bringing in some eye candy when it's time to hire an intern. Or maybe even hiring someone slutty and having a little summer fling.
But the truth is that she was the best candidate. She was at the top of her class with excellent grades at a tough school. She had good work experience. And we needed someone who could actually help out around the office. Not just some intern looking to improve their resume over the summer while they hang out and surf the internet all day.
Besides, as I said, she was the type of woman who grew on you over time. When she came into the interview in her frumpy business suit and with her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, she just looked like a young Mexican woman with a chip on her shoulder who was eager to impress.
She'd been working there for almost two weeks before I really noticed how attractive she was. I'd already picked up on her intellect. And her work was impressive. And I just liked talking to her.
But those first few days, she was burning through her Junior Executive wardrobe that mostly consisted of vintage-styled suits that were a tad too boxy and poorly cut. They were likely things bought off the discount rack on a student's budget.
But at the end of that second week, she had to break into her normal wardrobe. Her skirt was just a little too tight. When she took off her jacket she had on a sleeveless, silky blouse that showed off her slender, fit arms. And for the first time, I could notice those perky tits.
Of course, I wasn't the only one who noticed. Damn near every guy in the office seemed to be talking about her. And she always got a second glance from the customers. Maybe it just took me longer because I was the one working with her all the time and I was too concerned about getting her trained.
If anyone in the office had a shot with her, I figured it had to be me. Everyone else was at least twice her age and most were out of shape old guys. Plus, I was the one working with her all day. And we often had to stay late after the office emptied out. But I couldn't figure an angle to ask her on a date. After all, I was her boss. And that violated more company rules than I cared to think about. I thought the best approach to get to know her was to invite her out to a group happy hour. But she politely turned me down.
"I'd love to go," she said. "But I'm only twenty. I don't think the company wants to contribute to my delinquency," she added with a wink.
As the summer weeks flew by, I found myself becoming more enchanted with her. But I couldn't figure out a way to do anything about it. There was never any opening. She was mostly serious, but would occasionally drop the professional personality and make a sly or mischievous joke. But she was never flirty. There was no way for me to get to know her outside of work. There was nothing for me to do except feel frustrated. With no way to get to know her better, my thoughts gradually shifted from charm and romance. And they turned to lust.
I started wondering if there was some possibility of a one night stand. I imagined working late one night and somehow ending up in bed. I found myself fantasizing about her after I went home. And then I thought about her while we were at work. Sometimes when we were sitting at the same desk and working on a project.
When she wore a conservative suit, I couldn't stop thinking about undressing her. I wanted to unzip her skirt and pull off her blazer and reveal that tight body - and hopefully some sexy lingerie.
When she dressed more casually, it was even more difficult. I caught myself staring at her hips and ass. If her skirt was too short, I'd ache to touch the bare skin above the top of her stocking. When a thin blouse or sweater hugged her tits, I ached to place my hands on them.
Three weeks before her internship came to an end, the two of us were working on a major project. We stayed late almost every night. We were usually the only ones in the office. I knew that time was running out. And my fantasies were out of control.
But, still, I was powerless to do a thing about it. Most of mine was consumed with the idea of making a big move. I pictured myself kissing her. Lifting her onto my desk and ripping her blouse open. I wanted to stand between her stocking-clad legs, lift her skirt, and fuck her right there on my desk.
But I couldn't bring myself to do it. As much as I wanted the reward, I was frightened of the risk. I could imagine losing my job and being sued for sexual harassment. So I did nothing.
I felt like a ball of nerves. Between the long hours, the expectations of my boss, and the sexual frustration, I was stressed out. And it was starting to show. My temper was short and I started to look and feel disheveled.
After working together all summer, it must have been easy for her to spot the change in demeanor. On a Friday night - two weeks before her last day - we were stuck in the office well past closing. And we were making no progress.
"Why don't we just call it a night?" Kay finally said.
"Maybe you're right," I responded with a sigh.
"You're frustrated and stressed out. You can recharge over the weekend. We could both use a break."
"Yeah," I answered. "I could probably use a drink."
"A drink? I think you should go out and get laid," she said with a laugh.
She was always witty, but it was the boldest statement she'd ever made.
I responded with a sarcastic laugh.
"Yeah, that would be great," I said. "Little chance of that happening."
I thought about adding, "Unless you're offering," but I didn't have the courage.
"Why's that?" she said. "You're young. Attractive. Successful. I'm sure there are plenty of ladies out there interested in you."
"I do alright," I responded honestly. "But lately I've been working so much that I haven't even gone on a date in months."
"So?" she answered. "You don't have to be dating someone to get laid! Hit the bars!"
"That's easier said than done," I said. "And there's not a lot of high-quality women out at bars looking for one night stands."
"You're crazy," Kay responded. "You'd be surprised who has one night stands."
"Are you offering?" I finally said, with just enough sarcasm to make it sound like I wasn't serious.
Kay laughed and rolled her big brown eyes.
"I'm not fucking my boss," she said.
"See," I said. "No women are looking for one night stands. I'll just go home and have a drink. Or several. And maybe sleep all weekend."
"You are wound way too tight," she said. "Just go out and have fun."
"No," I said.
I stood up and started gathering my things.
"That's just not really my scene," I added.
She rolled her eyes again.
"It will do you good," she said. "I can see you need it."
"No," I repeated.
"Don't be such a pussy!" she said.
We both laughed.
"Great," I said. "Now I'm getting called a pussy by my twenty-year-old intern. I'm going home."
I reached to shut my computer off and pick up the necktie I'd discarded on my desk earlier.
"How about just a BJ?" she said.
"What's with you tonight?" I asked. "I've never heard you talk like this."
"I don't know," she answered. "Long week. I'm stressed out, too. And this job is almost over anyway. No reason to keep playing the professional."
"Well, I'm glad you're cutting loose a little," I said. "But I don't think there are any women hanging out in bars waiting to give me a BJ, either, Kay."
"That's not what I meant," she said. "I meant, how about I give you a blowjob?"
I froze and just stood looking down at her. Then I let out a laugh.
"You're joking," I said. "That's how exhausted I am. For a second I thought you were serious. Sorry."
"I wasn't joking," she said quickly.
"Yes, you were, Kay. You're just fucking with me."
She reached over and touched my thigh. And then she slid her hand up toward my cock. She looked up with those big eyes. And suddenly she looked very serious.