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The story does not contain sexual activity involving a person under 18.
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It was exactly what I hoped for: Steven Mehlman, the most appreciated lawyer in town accepted my application to be his secretary. When I came for my interview, I tried my best to impress him with my fast typing, computer skills, and bringing 2 outstanding recommendation letters from my former employers. He read the letters, asked me 3 simple questions, and smiled warmly, “Jill, I am impressed. It’s not very often that a candidate has both the skills and appearance. Congratulations, you are in. Can you start on Monday at 8 am?”
I was elated and called my mother. She chuckled, “Honey, I had no doubt you’d get the job. You are smart, hard working, and fun to be with, so why not succeed in anything you put your mind to?”
It was nice to hear it, even though it was only from my mother. My last relationship ended 2 months earlier with a broken heart, and at 28, I moved to a different town to start over. In the following days, I rented a small furnished apartment nearby, and ensured I’d have all the basic needs. I drove my 5 year old small Chevy, did shopping, and verified I knew where all the needed services were located.
…
I was at the office 10 minutes early. Lara, the manager, showed me around. She was about 50 years old, slightly chubby lady. She smiled, but I felt that her piercing eyes inspected me from head to toe. Since I planned to make a good first impression, I put very little makeup, no lipstick, dressed conservatively, and wore flat heel shoes. Lara grinned and said, “I like your choice of attire. We try to make our clients comfortable and feel that we are professionals. That is something that new recruits do not get, as they attempt to look sexy rather than efficient.”
“No ma’am, I am not going to try to grab somebody’s attention.”
Lara smirked, “It won’t be easy. You are young, tall, pretty, with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a nice figure. I bet whatever you wear, men will ogle you and look for excuses to talk to you.”
“I smiled, “Lara, my priority is to be the best secretary I can be. The LAST thing on my mind is hungry men in the workplace.”
She eyed me and commented, “Talk is cheap. The last 2 secretaries were let go because they attracted too much attention from the boss himself.”
I said confidently, “I met Mr. Mehlman, and I agree he is handsome, manly, and very successful, but he is not my type.”
She blurted, “We’ll see.” Then she showed me my small office with the only door into Mr. Mehlman’s spacious room. I was shown the file cabinet, the sophisticated computer, and the list of VIPs with their contact numbers. Lara told me she would perform my duties for the first 3 days, so I could learn the specific requirements of the boss, and later I’d be asked to fill the position.
Mr. Mehlman arrived at 10 am after a couple of meetings. Lara made him coffee and added a doughnut. He saw me following Lara and chuckled, “Jill, Lara only looks scary, but once you two get to know each other, you’ll find out she is a Teddy bear.” I smiled and stayed mum. Within the next 2 hours, I realized the whole office ran efficiently like a clockwork, with Lara at the helm. Mr. Mehlman was admired by everybody on the team, but he was the only one who seemed out of place in the office. His strength was his knowledge of the law, his fantastic record of winning for his clients, and his pleasant demeanor. However, sometimes, in the office he behaved like a child: Making politically incorrect jokes, flirting with employees, and being a trickster. Nothing he did was mean spirited or offensive; he just liked to joke and ignore the boundaries. As I mentioned before, in the following days, I found out that nobody among the staff felt intimidated or humiliated by him. They just accepted him as is.
…
Gradually, I became familiar with the job I was assigned to perform and befriended a couple of female employees. We started meeting on certain afternoons and occasionally went to restaurants or shows together.
After 2 months at work, Mr. Mehlman seemed more at ease in my presence and began flattering me on my dresses, my hair, and even the little lipstick I started putting on. I just smiled and accepted these as mere compliments, although, in the back of my mind was the warning I received on my first day, that 2 former secretaries were fired because Mr. Mehlman’s flattering progressed to flirting and then intimate affairs.
One evening, my cell phone rang. The number was unfamiliar, but I chose to answer anyway.
I said, “Hello, this is Jill. Who are you, and what do you want?”
A strained voice blurted, “This is Mel Mehlman. There are rumors that my husband began flirting with you. I called to warn you that 2 other secretaries were out of a job as a result of an affair with Steve, so if have similar intentions, think again.”
I said, “Mrs. Mehlman, adana escort I can assure you that my connection with your husband is only professional and will NEVER be anything else.”
She chuckled, “I love Steve and know he can be extremely charming to women like us. I’ve heard that you are young and beautiful, so I suspect that eventually he may propose something that will be unrelated to your job description.”
“Mrs. Mehlman, I would be grateful if I can meet YOU in private. Do you think it will be possible?”
She sounded suspicious, “Why?”
“Because I think that once you know me, we may become friends.”
“I don’t know about that, but if you wish to talk to me, we can meet one afternoon at a coffee place.”
“That will be wonderful. Name the time and place, and I’ll be there.”
She took her time and then mentioned Starbucks on Lincoln Street on Thursday at 5 pm. I promised to be there.
…
I arrived at Starbucks early, wanting to find available table. Five minutes later, a table got free and I took it. From my seat I watched the front door. I recognized Mel as she entered after seeing her picture on Mr. Mehlman’s desk. She was 35-40 years old, 5’4″, about 130 pounds, with shoulder length brown, wavy hair. The closer she came, the more I noticed her pretty face. It was covered with makeup, but it was beautiful nonetheless.
When she was nearby, I waved at her. I introduced myself, “Hi Mrs. Mehlman, I am Jill. Thanks for meeting me. Please sit down and tell me what you wish to drink. I’ll be back soon.”
“Jill, I understand the commotion in the office. You really are a beauty. Please bring me a simple latte.”
I returned with her latte and my cappuccino, sat down, and grinned, “Mrs. Mehlman, looking at you tells me your husband has good taste.”
She said, “Look, there is no need to be formal in a place like this. Call me Mel.”
“OK. Mel, I understand you are a homemaker. Do you have any interests or hobbies?”
She had a bitter smile, “I never wanted to be a stay-at-home wife, but fate wasn’t very good to us. I got pregnant twice, and both times I lost the fetus. It turned out my uterus position was twisted or something, and carrying a baby to term was nearly impossible. I was depressed and quit my job as a team supervisor in a Target store. I got treated for depression for about a year and slowly got better. However, my wish to return to work diminished, and since Steve earns plenty of money, I chose instead to be busy with my hobbies, which are painting and working with clay.”
“I am sorry to hear about your miscarriages. I was never pregnant, so I cannot say I know how you feel, but I am sure it was devastating.”
“Yes, it was. For a long time.”
“But I am happy you are busy with good hobbies. I like paintings. I cannot paint, but I love everything related to it: Watching paintings in museums, visiting galleries, and checking paintings in estate sales. My favorite ones are those made by the Impressionists.”
Mel smiled, “Some of the Impressionists are my idols too: Renoir, Manet, and Monet, to name a few.”
I said, “I’d love to see your paintings. I get the feeling I’d like them, or at least some of them.”
Mel chuckled, “You expect too much. I am not one of the best, but I borrowed my style from the impressionists, especially Edouard Manet.”
I begged her, “May I see your works, please? I promise not to criticize, even if I was not impressed. I just wish to see famous Impressionist-like paintings.”
She laughed, “Jill, I’ll let you into my private studio, but if you dare mock me, I’ll kill you!”
I smiled, “Please don’t. And thank you. When will be the best time to visit?”
“Probably when Steve is not home. It’s either Tuesday or Thursday evening, when he goes for 2-3 hours to exercise at the health club.”
“Thursday is better for me. What time?”
“My husband arrives home around 4 pm. He changes and leaves the house at 4:30 and returns around 7 pm for dinner.”
“So I’ll arrive at 4:45 pm and leave before he returns.”
“Good idea.”
We continued chatting about what movies we like to watch and travel. It turned out that the Mehlmans traveled frequently to South America and Europe. I said I was jealous. She mumbled, “Jill, you are still young. One day you’ll meet the right man, and together you’ll conquer the world.” I smiled and stayed silent.
…
On Thursday afternoon, I arrived home, took a hot shower, put on a light blue blouse, and a midi style skirt, and drove away. I stopped at a flower shop, bought a bouquet of mixed flowers, and headed to Mel’s house. I arrived a little early and waited in my car outside the gate. As I was sitting, I saw Mr. Mehlman’s car passing by without paying attention to me. Five minutes later, I stopped on the driveway in front of their large house and rang the bell.
Mel opened the door wearing a long pink robe. She grinned, “Thank you for the flowers, but you didn’t have to do it. I just came out of the shower. May I offer you ankara escort a drink? Tea? Coffee? Wine?”
“I hate to bother, but if you’ll drink too, green tea will be perfect.”
She guided me to her plush living room and went to the kitchen to make the tea. I stood in a large room with multiple lithographs of famous Impressionists. As I was admiring the paintings, Mel arrived with a tray. She saw me in front of Manet’s Olympia. The painting shows a nude white woman lying in bed with her black servant standing behind her.
Mel chuckled, “Manet liked painting people in their daily life. I am fond of this one because it is so simple yet very sensual.”
I mumbled, “I agree.”
The next one was a lithograph of Renoir, Blonde Braiding Her Hair. In it, a young topless woman is seen from behind braiding her long hair with her bare breast peeking out. Renoir’s use of soft touches was noticeable in the painting.
I looked at Mel, “You like Impressionist art, but you seem to prefer the artists’ nudes.”
She blushed, “Yes, I do. Unlike the classic painters, Impressionists added more depth, color, and reality to their work, which made the paintings more… erotic.”
“I agree. May I see YOUR paintings now?”
Mel led me through a long hall into her private work room. It was a large place with about 15 finished paintings arranged all around on the floor and an empty canvas ready to be used next. I started looking at the paintings and noticed that the first 3 had the same model posing. She was a beautiful dark haired woman shown in different positions.
“Who is she?” I asked.
“She is a girl I hired from an agency to paint and pay her by the hour.”
“Why don’t you ask one of your friends to pose for you? I am sure they’ll be happy to do it. It’s like taking a photo, but it will remain for much longer.”
“I thought about it, but I was reluctant to ask anybody I knew because completing a picture may take days and requires the person to stay in the same position for long hours. More importantly, I haven’t met the one that inspired me like this anonymous model.”
“She is pretty,” I admitted.
I continued inspecting her paintings, examining her technique, and was impressed, “You have a good eye, and I like what I see.”
“Really? “She asked enthusiastically.
“Definitely. I am no expert, but your brush strokes remind me somewhat of Van Gogh’s work rather than other Impressionists.”
As I was talking, I noticed her eyes exploring me up and down. I smiled shyly, “Is there a problem?”
She grinned, “Not at all. I like the way to describe my paintings and i had a crazy idea…”
“What is it?”
“You like paintings, including mine, and you have an interesting face and body. I would like to try to paint you.”
“That is a great compliment, but your husband may not like the idea.”
“We don’t have to tell him, at least not initially. Later, if the experiment is successful and we both like the arrangement, I think I’ll be able to convince him to let us continue. Steve can be an aggressive lawyer, but at home, he is a softie.”
…
The following Thursday, I knocked on Mel’s door at 5 pm. She was thrilled I agreed to sit for her. I wore a summer blouse, a midi skirt, and simple 2″ heel shoes. She offered me coffee and cookies, and while I sipped my coffee, she began drawing a rough sketch. When Mel said I was done, I went behind her and saw a pencil drawing of the pose I was sitting in, without fine details.
She said, “I will add details later, but if it’s OK with you, I’d rather paint you in other clothes.”
“But I didn’t bring other ones.”
“You can use one of my robes today, and before you leave, I’ll tell you my opinion about the clothes I think will be more suitable for the next session.”
Mel was shorter than me by 4″, and her long robes reached my mid calf. She said, “It’s not what I hoped for. Would you mind trying on one of my short robes?”
She handed me a short nighty, which reached high above my knees. Mel inspected me standing up and liked it. She instructed me to sit on the couch with one leg over the other, leaning slightly on one elbow, and gazing somewhat sideways. She started working. After 10 minutes, I felt my arm becoming numb and looked in her direction without moving my body or head. I noticed her eyes were focused on my bare legs, making minor changes on the canvas every 30 seconds. Having only 2 short breaks, Mel announced after an hour and a half she was done with needing me there, and she would complete the background later.
I went to look at the painting. It wasn’t done, but my facial expression and my pose were captured. I complimented her, and she grinned, pleased with my reaction. She mumbled, “I can do better if you listen to me.”
I smiled, “I like the way you displayed me. Sure, I’ll do whatever you recommend.”
“Next time, wear a short dress, preferably red or black, with a low neckline, and matching high heel shoes. You are stunning, and that way, all your beauty adıyaman escort will be front and center in the painting”.
In the days that followed, I continued working as Mr. Mehlman’s secretary, but being a model for his wife started to occupy my mind. I liked painting, I liked that Mel found me a suitable muse, and I began to be fond of her too.
I wanted to make her happy, and the next Thursday, I wore my skimpiest black dress: It was very short, reaching barely 2″ below my cunt. The top exposed half of my C cup boobs. It looked better without the bra on, so I removed it. I added my 3″ heel shiny black pumps and red hot lipstick. I covered myself with a long coat and drove to Mel’s house. She noticed my full lips with the lipstick on and smiled, “Honey, you look amazing. Let’s get to work.”
I removed my coat and heard her gasp. I asked, “Is this the way you wanted to see me?”
Mel’s breathing turned shallow, and she muttered, “You are breathtaking…”
She moved us to the back balcony and made me half sit, half lean back on a simple chair, with my legs bent slightly against the top of the railing, and my farthest hand crossing my closest hip. She asked me to pout my lips and gaze at her sexily. I did as asked, knowing quite well that this pose showed my shapely, well shaved legs as well as emphasized my cleavage.
Mel wore a thin blouse and a mini skirt. As she worked on my painting, my eyes explored her body. Mel had to be almost 40, but her body was impressive: Large tits that were held high on her chest with a black bra underneath, and muscular legs, likely due to some exercises. She may have been 10 years my senior, but her figure was attractive. I remembered my last lover, Debbie. She was my age and, like Mel, shorter than me and bustier. Now and then, Mel spread her legs slightly, and I could see the bottom of her black panties.
The whole scene was very erotic: I was wearing a revealing dress, posing sexily before voluptuous Mel, whose underwear was also showing… I started feeling warmth down there, and my cunt began to leak. Slowly, I let my thighs part. I noticed that Mel spent more time looking in my direction than focusing on the canvas.
I don’t know what made me do it, but I felt naughty and sent an air kiss in Mel’s direction. Her face turned ruby red, and her eyes shifted toward the painting. Her reaction made me bolder. I slid down a couple of inches on the chair, which lifted my hem up, exposing my pink panties.
Mel continued to paint, but her respiration became labored, and I saw her thighs press against each other forcefully. As an experienced woman, I knew exactly what it meant and smiled sweetly at her. Mel’s blush deepened.
I stretched up, pushing my breasts forward, knowing that my hard nipples were very visible to Mel’s eyes. I said, “Let me see what you painted so far.”
I moved behind her chair and saw that she did very little. I placed my palms on her shoulders and rubbed them gently, muttering, “Mel, you are very tense. Would you like me to massage your shoulders?” She stayed quiet.
I began massaging her covered shoulders tenderly. I bent down and whispered in her ear, “Relax, I just want you to feel good.” There was no verbal response but a soft moan.
I mumbled, “The massage will feel better if I do it on your bare skin…”
She groaned louder as her eyes closed, and she leaned backward on my legs. I released her top button, and she did not object. I continued slowly unbuttoning her front until it was loose. I pushed the blouse off her shoulders until it fell on her chair. Her silky black bra covered her boobs, showing little on top. I cupped her covered tits and murmured, “I love big tits. I always did. I bet yours are marvelous. May I?”
Mel didn’t respond and seemed dazed. I gingerly unclasped her bra and let it slide forward. Mel stopped breathing. I lightly touched her round mammaries and whispered, “Honey, they are magnificent!” I wasn’t exaggerating: From above, the breasts looked round, full, with minimal sag, large areolas, and stiff dark nipples. I cupped and then caressed her beauties, hearing her breathing accelerate. I turned her chair in my direction. Her eyes were tightly shut, and her lips mildly spread. I slowly parted her knees and knelt between them. Next, I licked Mel’s left nipple, hearing her whimper. I wrapped my lips around the nipple and gently milked it. She put her hands behind my head and pulled my face into her chest. Her whimpers increased, and I noticed a small stain in the front of her panties. I gingerly rubbed her cunt and her legs separated even more, inviting me in. Next, I pushed the panties to one side and felt her drenched labia. I fingered her pussy while continuing to lap and sucking on her nipple.
I did it for 5 minutes and felt her shuddering as she underwent an orgasm. I continued manipulating her vagina and abusing her nipple, and pressed my thumb on her swollen clitty. She jerked in her seat and began convulsing in her chair.
I was tempted to continue, but sexual activity on the chair was not my thing, and there wasn’t enough time, so I slowed down, and eventually stopped completely. I remained kneeling between her legs and waited for Mel to recover. It took her 10 minutes to open her eyes. Her face was red, and she mumbled, “I don’t know what happened to me…”
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