Shanice

"Shanice." you answer without hesitation.

Anna smiles and leaves the office. You sit a few nervous minutes, expecting Joseph Rossi to walk through the door any moment now. You take off your suit jacket and hang it over the back of your chair.

Anna and Shanice walk into the office in mid conversation. Shanice seems to be finishing up a thought "...and just let me say once more what an honor it is to be working for your husband Ms Lovkova. You are both legends in the industry."

It then hits you, Anna Lovkova, you've busted a nut to more than a few of her videos over the years. 'Holy shit.' you think.

Shanice turns out to be even more impressive in the flesh. Almost as tall as you and sculpted like an Olympian goddess. She stands in front of your desk as Anna closes and locks the door then takes a spot on the couch behind Shanice.

The ebony beauty is wearing a tight tank top with cut off jeans. She begins to speak but you put up your hand for quiet. Keeping up this charade was going to be hard enough, best keep chit chat to a minimum. You simply say, "Show me what you got Shanice."

She nods, just a hint of nervousness can be detected. She readies herself, then begins swaying her hips back and forth. Anna picks up a remote and turns on some background mood music. Just enough to provide a beat without being intrusive.

Shanice runs her hands up along her sides then over her soft breasts. She spins in place and looks at you over her should, arching her back to give you a better view of her ass as she slowly pulls her cutoffs down and off. She wears a deep red thong. Spinning again she turns to face you, she puts her foot up on your desk displaying her long powerful legs. You see tantalizing contours beneath the panties. She pulls her tank top over her head revealing a red sports bra to match the thong.

You shift uncomfortably in your chair, thoroughly enjoying the show. You are already rock hard and things are just getting warmed up.

Her movements are precise and controlled, not the smooth grace of a dancer but the strict coordination of an athlete. You hear Anna chime in, "Loosen up my dear, just let yourself flow with the music."

Shanice continues, she settles into the rhythm. The light coming through the window from the setting sun highlighting her toned midsection. On every odd beat she begins to peel off her bra bit by bit, then finally on the peak of a crescendo she strips it off. Now she is really into it, rocking and pulsing to the tune. Her breasts sway, large but with the firmness of youth. Her wide white grin showing that she is really in the groove. Again turning from you she begins wagging her hips back and forth, thumbs under the sides of her thong she begins taking them down to the beat. Left, right, left, right. Then suddenly pulls the back up, wagging her finger in a "nuh-uh" motion. You laugh. This was amazing!

Leaving you on the hook just a bit longer she teases her panties almost off for a while before finally pulling them off completely. As the song comes to its conclusion she climbs atop the desk like a feline on the hunt, prowls across and puts her hand on your shoulder. She clacks her teeth with a firm bite in the air and looks you in the eye, the smell of a musky perfume fills your senses. "How's that Mr Rossi?" And the music plays its last triumphant beat.

You sit there looking up at her dumbfounded. Then, remembering who you were supposed to be, you clear your throat. "Ahem, yes, yes, very good!" You look her up and down, licking your dry lips then swallowing.

You hear Anna as she struts around the desk, "Yes, good. We know you can dance, but let's see what else you can do."

Shanice bares her teeth in a mock snarl, "What's next Mr. Rossi. You name it."