Brad Harris: Turned on secretary

"Mrs. Linn," a male voice called from the front of the office. She looked up to see Joe Higgs, her immediate boss, standing with Mr. Forrest, the regional manager and vice-president. Joe Higgs motioned for her to join them. As the girl rose from her desk, the brunette beside her laughed softly.

"Forrest always insists that you take notes of their meetings," she whispered. "I think he enjoys looking at your legs during those conferences."

Sheila ignored what she knew was true. She grabbed up her pad and a couple of pencils, then smiled brightly as she walked up to join the executives. Both pairs of eyes were on her as she walked toward them. They continued to talk to each other, but their eyes thoroughly watched her legs and tits. They smiled warmly as she joined them, then stepped into the conference room. Mendel Forrest casually placed his arm about her shoulders as he ushered her into the elaborately furnished room. Half a dozen other men were waiting. All eyes brightened as the red-haired beauty walked in.

"This is Sheila Linn." Mendel Forrest introduced her. "She's the best we've got in this company. Now, if you can get your minds back on company business, let's get to work."

Tom Linn had been the high school star, captain of the football team and all-city fullback. Every girl she knew drooled over him, over his dark good looks, over his charming smile.

Tom began eating while Sheila was still standing at the stove. His mouth spread in an impish grin. His eyes darted from one side to the other. Then he grabbed a piece of chicken and ate it quickly. He looked up at her, that damn grin on his face as though asking her to laugh at the childish antics.

Five years ago she had thought those actions to be completely irresistible. She had been the happiest girl in school when Tom noticed her. She knew that he screwed any girl he dated. That didn't matter to the redhead. She was deliriously happy with the chance to offer him her cherry. He had popped her on their first date. He had fucked her, then bragged about it to the other boys on the team. He fucked her regularly after that. He usually kept his buddies up to date on just how many times he had gotten her pussy, too.

Their screwing had never been fulfilling to Sheila. Hell, just about the time she started feeling anything, he had already shot his wad. What he lacked in finesse, however, he tried to make up for in vigor. When Tom Linn fucked a girl, she knew she'd had a man between her legs. He bragged about that. The bastard would brag about that as he lay beside her, that juvenile grin on his face, while she shuddered with desire that had only begun to rise.

Tom had eaten two pieces of chicken and was finishing a third by the time Sheila slipped into her chair across from him. The young woman ate daintily while her husband continued to stuff his mouth. He nodded his approval of her cooking, grabbed a fourth piece of meat, looked from side to side, grinned, and started bolting down that piece of chicken. He struggled to swallow a huge mouthful, then spoke to her while the remains threatened to drop down his chin.

"You made up your mind about the convention?" he asked, referring to the forthcoming meetings of her company to be held in New Orleans. "You decided to go?"

Sheila had about decided not to attend. Mr. Forrest had been urging her to go. The manager had even suggested that her expenses would be paid by the company. He wanted her to handle some of the presentations, he said. The red-haired girl suspected that he wanted her to handle more than just formal presentations of charts and diagrams. The way Forrest had looked at her as he talked about the meetings left little doubt in her mind. Sheila felt reasonably confident that she could handle any approaches the men might make. Still, it would be embarrassing. No, she'd probably be better off remaining at work. She might make enemies out of the executives she turned don each evening.

"I don't think I'll go," she answered her husband. "It just doesn't excite me that much."

Tom's face showed a peculiar expression of disappointment. He grunted in response, then finished his meal in silence. Sheila was aware of a growing anger in his eyes as he looked over at her. She had thought he might be relieved at hearing her decision. He had made enough comments about what happened at conventions. He suggested that the company only held them to give the men a chance to screw every girl on the payroll. She wasn't about to tell him that they didn't heed a convention for that. Except for her, the men in the company were fucking all the girls without leaving town.

"What's the matter?" she asked. "I thought you wanted me to stay home."

Tom pushed back from the table. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, then rubbed the greasy hand on his pants. He got up and put his jacket on. He didn't speak to her until he got to the door. Then he looked back at her for a moment.

"I don't give a damn what you do!" he snapped. "Just don't try to pull anything on me. Don't think I owe you anything because you aren't going."

Sheila watched the door slam behind him. She fought back the immediate surge of resentment. Damn him! She'd never tried to use anything against him. She certainly didn't hold it up to him that her salary was considerably higher than his. She had never suggested, as happened to be true, that she could be making a hell of a lot more if she weren't married to him. That must be the problem, she suddenly suspected! He was resentful of her rising position. He was jealous of her success.

It didn't have to be that way. He didn't have to work at his demeaning job. She'd have been only too happy to work while he went back to college.

She had pleaded with him to let her send him through school. He could have finished on his own years ago. They had been at the state university where he was on a football scholarship. Tom had injured his knee, however, in the first week of practice. The university would have honored its contract with him despite the fact that he would never play. It had been Tom who packed up and returned home. Tom had only been interested in football, not in the education. Now he resented being in a low paying job. Damn it, it was his own fault. She would still pay for him to get his education.

Maybe they should talk about that again. Maybe they needed to do a lot of talking. If he was being such a bastard because of his own frustrations, then she needed to do something to reassure him. Sheila quickly began cleaning up the table. She spent almost an hour in the kitchen, then walked into the bedroom and began changing clothes.

She'd go down to the tavern. Yes, she'd show him that she didn't feel superior to his friends. She'd have fun with him tonight, even drink beer with him! Ugghhh! That would be a way of proving her love. He knew how she detested the smell and taste of beer. She would sit there and drink with him, then come home and have a long, serious talk.

She felt much better as she ran the comb through her hair. She had slipped into tight slacks and a soft sweater that emphasized her tits. She shook her head sadly, knowing that there was no way she could pass as a typical tavern wife. Then she laughed at herself. Why should she worn? Maybe this would even help Tom. Every man in there would drool over her. That ought to give her husband a feeling of being important. He had always been proud of her sexy appearance. She might be able to use that tonight.

She stepped back from the mirror and stared at her reflection. She could imagine how Walt Morrow would react to her. The redhead shivered at the thought of his arms about her. Her tits swelled as she fancied his hands covering them and slowly massaging her nipples into pulsing desire. She closed her eyes and remembered how his hardening cock had felt against her today at the office. She had a catch in her breath as she realized just how much she had wanted to meet hint after work.