Andrea Again

It was a week later when I crossed paths with Andrea Meyers again. I was doing my annual considerations on the expendatures of divisions, including Administrations. Rather than calling in Duncan for a boring-as-hell accented hour of rambles, I decided to call in Andrea.

The look of shame she had on her face when I left her last was too good to pass up.

I didn't bother speaking as she came into my office and sat down, straightening out her small business skirt on the chair. I gave her a quick glance during the silence, from long legs up to the bursting blouse.

"Are you going to talk to me?" she said after minutes of silence. I knew it had been driving her insane.

"You aren't here to talk, Andy."

"Listen," she hissed. "I don't know what kind of whore you think I am. I'm a model employee and I won't submit to ****. I don't even like cocks. I'm a lesbian. You're sexually discriminating against me."

I paused, now very intrigued. "You're a lesbian?" That explained the look of shame, and made our encounter so much more erotic. An erection grew under my desk.

"Yes..." she said. "I hate men like you. I hate cocks."

I smiled. "Then why are you inching up your mini-skirt as we speak?"

Her fingers had been slowly crawling it up, tugging on the fabric as her left hand moved upside her body. I got quite the view of the thigh before she immediately tried to straighten it out.

"A nervous habit."

"Have you ever been fucked, Andy?" I asked.

She paused, and blushed. "No."

"Then it's your lucky day. I'll forgive your insolence if you strip and come over here to my lap."