Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY Ext 357
“Miss Reese,” the crackled voice came through the intercom. “Mr. Davis will see you now.” I stood up and smoothed the simple pencil skirt down my thighs. My blouse was unbuttoned just enough to show off my cleavage, and my tall high heels made no sound as I walked across the carpet to his office.
Carefully, I pushed open the heavy oak doors and stepped into his office. Mr. Davis was on the phone, no doubt with a high-paying client. He didn’t look up from his notepad but crooked a finger for me to begin. I licked my lips as he pushed his big office chair back from the desk. Dropping down to my hands and knees, I crawled to my position under his desk. Our eyes did meet then, just briefly, as I sat on my heels and began to unzip his pants.