Satiny soft legs with taut muscles and delicate ankles encased in silken stockings. Sexy toes all dolled up with cherry-red lacquered nails glinting teasingly at you. A skirt so short that the tops of my thigh-highs peek out beneath it when I sit and cross my legs enticingly. I'm certainly not unaware of my effect on you, in fact, I dress this way, act this way, to get your heart racing and you blood pounding in your veins.
Close your eyes for a moment and imagine me as your secretary. Go ahead, I'll wait. You certainly wouldn't dread Monday mornings knowing that I'm there awaiting your arrival. Call me in to take dictation, send me for coffee, have me run little errands around the office, all so you can watch my hip-twitching strut. A good assistant tries to anticipate the needs and wants of her boss by learning to read the subtleties of his body language but, let's face it, anyone could read yours. It screams from miles away that you're constantly fighting to keep your half-mast erection from becoming a full-blown hard-on when in my vicinity.
The fact that your mind seems to be awash with thoughts of my legs, feet, cleavage, trim little tummy and ass, would suggest that you're not getting much actual work done and that fact makes you a bit tense, doesn't it? It's ok, go ahead, ask me to give you a neck rub. Perhaps I'll peer over your shoulder while kneading away your tension and see something else that could use a good rub. Maybe I'll use my agile little feet to rub that particular part of you. After that, anything goes, and the only raise you have to give me is the one in your pants.
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