Part 2

865 26 7
                                    

24 September 1980

5:26pm Wednesday

-----

You didn't bring up the previous evening, greeting Paul pleasantly as he walked in, as you did every morning since working there.

He seemed shaken upon first seeing you, but carried on normally as that's what you were doing, and reverted to his usual cheery self.

You welcomed in a new client working with a newly founded group, letting Paul know he had arrived. Later, you brought him his tea, typed some notes, and took a call about a copyright lawsuit.

The day came to a close. Paul came by the lobby a bit after 5pm, asking for his transcribed notes. 

"Here you go." You said. You were amiable with his as always, smiling as you handed them to him.

Paul looked down at the notes in his hand blankly, then got annoyed. He placed his hands on the edge of your desk, glaring down at you with intensity.

"Are you just gonna keep ignoring what'ya did last evening?"

You looked up at him innocently with mascara rimmed eyes. That just seemed to irritate him further.

"Hmm?" 

Paul huffed in indignation.

"I know I didn't fuckin' imagine the whole damn thing!" He raised his voice, trying to get his message across. "Don't play dumb!"

Him getting worked up only amused you. You dropped the façade and grinned up at him.

"What...you want something from me, McCartney?" You said in a deeper voice.

Paul looked away, evidently flustered by a simple shift in tone. He'd gotten comfortable with your daytime self again. You liked this effect you had on him.

"Why so bashful?" You said. "You came on to me yesterday, didn't you? Big confident lawyer."

Paul pushed his quaffed bangs with his palm, looking to the side.

"Well?"

"Well!" He said.

You rested your cheek in your hand, smiling. You toyed with your pen absentmindedly in your fingers.

"Well, if you're asking, I'll be much obliged." You said.

Paul tightened his lips and nodded, still looking off to the side.

You led him to his office by his lapel and sat him on his desk chair. Paul stared at you with the same mesmerized expression as the previous evening, the starlet one: wide eyes and slightly parted lips.

You smiled at him, then knelt down. He near jumped in anticipation when you placed your hands on his upper thighs.

"Eager." You said.

You could feel his heartbeat quicken as you massaged his thighs, just missing his crotch. He sat still, remembering what you ordered yesterday. He wasn't in charge. Paul was a pretty man, but he needed to be taken down a few pegs. He got what he wanted too easily, and needed to learn patience.

He had nicely shaped hips for a man. His body wasn't a woman's, obviously, he had broad shoulders and slight definition in his arms, but he had that feminine appeal.

You unbuttoned his pants, and reached down to feel the soft skin of his shaft in your hand. Paul wasn't quite in his early 20s, so he wouldn't get rock hard immediately from a strong breeze. He was definitely getting there though, slowly hardening in your light hold.

Temporary SecretaryWhere stories live. Discover now