A Hartford Skyscraper

The Phenix Insurance Building is not the tallest skyscraper in Hartford. It is, however, one of the most distinctive, with only two curving sides it is called 'The Boat' by locals but I always think of it as the 'football' because of it's shape. I didn't chose the building because of either it's shape or height but because it is where my broker and friend Walter Kennings had his office. It is exactly the type of building where a high-powered businessman might work, which is why I reached out to Walt and called in a favor. Alison is in awe as I pull into the drive at the base of the skyscraper, her eyes are as wide as saucers as she gazes up at the towering building.

“Why are we here?” Her voice is hushed, almost like we are entering a cathedral.

“This seems like the kind of place where a Billionaire would have his office and where a new secretary might feel a little like she's in over her head, don't you think?” Her nod is a mixture of confusion and excitement. “Let's go check it out.” I park in the employees lot under the building using Walt's key fob to open the gate and access the elevator. At this time of night on a Friday in the Covid era the parking lot is almost empty, as is the elevator that we take to the twelfth floor.

I guide my speechless tenant down the wall to suite 1245 and once again Walt's electronic key opens the door with a humming of an electronic lock. I've been in this office four or five times, first when my wife and I set up our retirement plan, a couple times after her **** and then again when I took the retirement package offered by my school district. It is neat and modern with a common area shared by three or four brokers. A pair of desks for the receptionists, a printer/scanner and a photo-copy machine are all arranged along with a couple couches and a coffee bar for clients who have to wait. Surprisingly in this modern age there are even a couple wood-faced filing cabinets much fancier than anything I've ever used in my classroom.

“Wow!” Is all Alison can say as she turns slowly to take it all in.

“This will be your desk Miss Miller.” I deliberately deepen my voice a little and try to sound like a man who doesn't even notice the elegant setting. “My office is in here.” I guide her possessively into Walt's office with it's spectacular view of the city's skyscape lit up and the river off in the distance. The huge desk is empty except than a blotter and a brass holder for a pen and pencil set and a antique brass clock which has stopped days ago, another couch and a small coffee table sit against the far wall covered with expensive looking paneling while the near wall has pictures of my broker with both Presidents Bush and Obama as well as what looks like an expensive Wyatt oil-painting of a scenic river and pasture.

“This place is amazing, Sir.” Alison looks back at me from the window where she was taking in the view. As impressive as the night-time city is, I am more interested in the impressionable coed staring at me in wonder.

When she sees my eyes sweep over her, Alison's face flushes. She must know how good she looks in that outfit, and she knows exactly why I brought her up to this empty office, even if she doesn't know how I pulled it off. I approach her slowly and lift her lips to meet mine with a gentle kiss.

“I feel just like that innocent secretary, Sir.” She whispers when our lips finally pull apart. “You can do whatever you want with me.” Her hand rests on my chest as she gazes up at me. “You caught me lying on my resume, and now I have to beg you not to fire me.” Her breathing increases a little and she licks her lips unconsciously making them look even sexier as they glisten in the dim light streaming in from the open door to the common area.

“But, Sir,” Alison's eyelashes flutter sweetly as she looks up at me, “I know almost nothing about how to treat a man. I've never let a boy do more than kiss me; if you want me to please you, you'll have to show me what to do.” Then she pushes away from me and her tone changes, “In the book, the young secretary was **** and scared, but Mr. P, the Billionaire didn't care.” she lowers her gaze and adds shyly, “I think he really liked the idea of claiming his secretary's maidenhead, making her submit to him in a way that no other man could ever have.” I wonder if that's what made Alison so eager to try out this particular Harlequin scenario. “But the young heroine didn't surrender without a fight, Sir.” Alison places her hands on my chest and pushes experimentally trying to break free. “When her boss tries to take advantage of her in his office, she struggled in his strong arms. No matter how hard she tried to fight him, he just kept pushing her more and more.”

“The overpowered secretary is only saved when they are interrupted by a client, but that's not likely to happen tonight. There's no one around to save me.” The whole building does seem to be pretty empty, “Sir, you could do whatever you wanted with her sweet young body as she struggles and protests and there would be nothing that could stop you.” Alison looks at me with a sly grin on her face, perhaps amused by my uncertainty.

“You've done so much already, Mr. P,” Her gaze rises to meet mine boldly as she explains, “I want to do something for you. Which would you like more: the shy innocent who is **** to save her job but doesn't know how, or the feisty young woman who might require a little taming before you overpower her and claim her as yours?”