Working Girl Blues Ch. 01

As she slowly pushed her remaining stocking down her left leg with her opposite toe, Katerina groaned in pain. Her entire body ached. Her new job as the sole receptionist for the city's biggest law firm was not nearly the walk in the park she'd been expecting.

She'd graduated two years earlier from one of the Midwest's most prestigious law schools, and she had hesitated before accepting the job offer. The truth was, though, that Katerina's job prospects were less than stellar. She had had time neither during her undergraduate work nor during law school to undertake any really experiential internships, and potential hirers never failed to notice.

It wasn't really fair, Katerina thought for what must have been the thousandth time. How could she have possibly found the time to build a great résumé? Barely two weeks after Katerina's twentieth birthday, her younger brother had called her with rage in his voice. All he had said was that their mother was dead and that he was not dealing with any of the "fucking funeral shit."

Katerina's entire world crumbled with that phone call, but somehow she had made it through. Her entire semester was, of course, ruined. What was she supposed to do? She'd gone home, made all the funeral and burial arrangements, sold their home, and found her brother an apartment. All in only three weeks. And even after missing three weeks of classes, the lowest grade she'd gotten that semester was a C+. Okay, she relented, maybe ruined was too strong of a word. But still, that semester was what had kept them all from seeing---

Her cell phone burst into a loud rap song, startling Katerina from her thoughts about the past and causing her to nearly trip over the heels that she'd left strewn behind her upon the floor. "Jesus, Christie," she breathed, digging the phone from inside her bag.

"Hey, lovely, what's up?"

"Oh my God, Kat, you finally fucking answered! I've been calling you all day."

"Chris. I have a job, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah, so do I, okay? Just hurry up and get ready. It's almost eight o'clock already. I'm picking you up at ten sharp, so you better be dressed and you better look hot. I don't spend my Friday nights out on the town with ugly broads, okay?"

"Fuck you," Katerina laughed. "I always look hot. I'll see you at ten, you bitch."

Christie only laughed back at her and disconnected. Katerina tossed the phone onto her bed. She had been looking forward to this night all week, and now she was so exhausted she was almost dreading it. She did have a whole two hours to get ready, though. Maybe a quick nap would spruce her up so all the dancing she was planning on doing wouldn't be such a chore. Yes, she decided, a nap was exactly what she needed.

Kat pulled her camisole up over her head and tugged the pins from her long coffee colored hair. She slid into the cool silk sheets of her extravagantly large bed wearing just her lace bra and panties. She moaned her delight at the way her mattress welcomed her body and made her instantly relax. She barely remembered to reach over and set her alarm before falling deeply asleep.

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Kat woke with a start and fumbled for her alarm clock, worried she'd overslept. But she was fine – she'd only been out for twenty minutes. Why was she awake already when she'd been so tired? "Ohhh God," she moaned as she suddenly remembered in vivid detail the dream she'd just been having.

It was about Mr. Huntington...it seemed all her dreams were about Mr. Huntington lately. And who could argue that they shouldn't be? The man was absolutely gorgeous. Well over six feet tall and deliciously broad, she swore she could feel his presence every time he entered a room she was in. He was significantly older than she was, but fine, whatever, she didn't care. His close-cropped thick grey hair was possibly the most attractive thing about him. Well, maybe. His icy blue eyes and beautiful hands certainly didn't hurt. Kat had always had a weak spot for men with nice hands.

As attractive as the man was, Katerina wanted nothing more than to stop having these thoughts – or more importantly, these dreams – about Mr. Huntington. The man was her boss, for Chrissakes. Not just her boss, but the firm's founder and head. She had met him nearly a month ago, when her interview process first started. Huntington personally hired all his staff – even the lowly receptionist. Ever since that first time he had called her into his office, Kat couldn't be within twenty feet of the man without going wet between the legs.

These goddamn dreams....they were really taking away from the quality of her sleep. If she were honest with herself, though, Kat had to admit that her subconscious tryst with Mr. Huntington was the hottest action she'd been getting lately, and she wasn't really in any hurry for it to stop.

Katerina closed her eyes and replayed the dream in her mind, filling in any missing details as she went. She had been dictating a letter for him, something she very rarely did in real life. But this was a dream, so why not? She sat in front of his desk in her pencil skirt, blouse, and thigh-high stockings, legs crossed tightly to help alleviate the arousal she couldn't escape in his presence. He was telling her that this was a personal letter, but that he trusted no one else with writing it. She nodded eagerly and sat forward in her chair, ready to write whatever he demanded.

"My dearest Elaine," Mr. Huntington began, "I wanted – no, I needed – desperately to write you a few words about last night. I think perhaps you got the wrong impression of me. I have the utmost respect for you, not only as a client, not only as a woman, but most importantly, as a person. I feel that over the past few weeks, we have allowed ourselves to become closer than appropriate, given our professional relationship. Last night I overstepped the bounds of that relationship, and I sincerely hope that you can forgive me. Don't get me wrong, Elaine, fucking you was one of the most enjoyable experiences I've ever had, but we simply cannot allow our emotions—"

"Um, sir?"

"What?"

"Did you say...did you say, 'Fucking you?'"

"Fucking, yes, fucking. Come now, Miss Callahan, surely you are familiar with that verb. I told you this was a personal letter, and I meant it. Are you ready to continue? We're almost done, I promise."

"Yes, Mr. Huntington."

"Okay....where was I? Ah. We cannot allow our emotions to overcome us like that again. I assure you that, in future, I will make certain that one or more of my colleagues are always present with us during our meetings. I hope that this will satisfy your sense of decorum and make you comfortable continuing business with our firm. Best wishes, Thomas Huntington. Did you get all that?"

"Yes, of course, sir....but I have one question, sir."

"Yes, Miss Callahan?"

"Where did you fuck her, sir?"

"Oh come now, Miss Callahan, surely you know that. In her pussy, of course."

He was teasing her, she could tell. How else could she respond but to tease back? "Her pussy, sir? Yes, yes, I suppose that would be right...but where in location, sir? Across this desk?" She stood up from her chair and walked forward to his enormous mahogany desk. She dragged her fingers innocently along the front edge of it, then suggestively brought her hand up to her nose. "Ah, you did fuck her across your desk, didn't you, Mr. Huntington?"

Huntington stood up and came around to the front of the desk. He stood next to her, not looking at her, but rather leaning forward pretending to examine the surface of his desk. "Why, Miss Callahan," he said, "I had no idea your sense of smell was so good."

"It's not all that great, sir...but may I say that your lady Elaine seems to have a bit of a pungent pussy...you may want to wash your desk, Mr. Huntington."

"Would you say, Miss Callahan, that your cunt smells any better?"

"Oh yes, sir, I know it does...and I would bet that it tastes infinitely sweeter as well."

Suddenly he was standing behind her, shoving her forward onto the desktop so that she was bent at her waist. Papers flew everywhere, but neither paid them any mind. Suddenly, somehow she was completely naked, save the three-inch heels she always wore to the office.

"I think I ought to decide who's pussy tastes best, don't you think, Miss Callahan?"

Katerina could only moan as she laid in bed, imagining the older man saying such things to her. Her fingers danced gently over her mound, feather light through her panties.

"I asked you a question, Miss Callahan."

"Yes, Mr. Huntington, yes, sir. Taste my pussy, Mr. Huntington, please taste my pussy," Katerina whimpered aloud in her bedroom.

Her fingers slipped inside the black lace covering her, tracing over her outer lips, already puffy with desire. She could feel her wetness soaking the inside of her underwear, and with a groan, slid the confining fabric down her legs and dropped it onto the floor. Her hand slipped back up, her thumb barely touching her clit as she imagined Huntington's tongue between her legs.

Her left hand grasped her breast through her bra, and she was unsurprised to find her nipple already hard against her palm. She squeezed roughly, moaning his name, urging him to lick her, help her, please, Mr. Huntington, please. Kat pushed the cup down roughly, freeing her breast. She pulled hard on her nipple, gasping at the pain and at the sensation it sent all the way down her stomach to her already sopping wet cunt.

She needed to come so badly, she could hardly breathe with the desire to come. She told herself to slow down, to make it last, but even as she tried, her imagination took over. Huntington had spun her around so that she lay sprawled on her back across his desk. He was kneeling between her spread knees looking at her with fire in those icy blue eyes. His head was suddenly pressed hard against her pussy, his tongue deep inside her, his thumb stroking furiously against her hardened clit.

"Mr. Huntington! Ohhh, please, sir, please, Mr. Huntington," Katerina cried out, plunging one finger, then two into her cunt. With her palm she rubbed circles over her clit, feeling her back arch involuntarily, trying to get closer to the source of her pleasure. Her left hand never left her left nipple, tugging and twisting, only heightening the sensations running through her. She plunged her fingers into her cunt, switching up her fantasy on the fly. They were his fingers inside her, his big, beautiful hands diving in and out of her pussy, pressing against her g-spot with every outward stroke. His tongue was circling her clit and his eyes, his eyes were looking up at her. He could see her playing with her own breasts and suddenly his tongue was in his mouth, he was suckling her clit, he was fucking her with his fingers, ohhh it was fantastic...

"Ohhhhhh, Mr. Huntington!" Katerina cried out as suddenly her pussy was clenching around her fingers and her toes were curling into the mattress. She could barely breathe as the pleasure reached its peak, and she kept rubbing her pussy gently as the waves slowly subsided.

She sighed her pleasure as she lay back against the pillows and let sleep claim her once more.