Sex Sells

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Some people like to be the boss, but Nancy Saddler wasn’t one of them. She loved the pay, of course, and the respect, and the status. But she hated hurting people. Managing meant she had to make decisions when competing projects needed the same budget. It made her choose between different ideas of how to approach a client.

Today, it meant she had to choose who got a promotion.

That was especially bad. There was no compromise solution – no way to make both parties happy. One job, two finalist applicants, and no way out. Nancy hated hurting people’s feelings, and today she had to do it.

Management had other perks besides the pay. An office of her own was very high among them, and the closed door was another. On the back of that door hung a mirror, and she checked her appearance in it now before receiving the first of the two applicants for their final interviews.

Her raven hair was up in a bun – a style she’d affected since rising to her current position. Her navy blue suit hadn’t picked up any visible lint, which was good, and her cream colored blouse was unbuttoned just far enough for a feminine touch without being unprofessional.

The hem of her skirt was above her knee, but not much. No runs marred her neutral pantyhose.

She worked hard at being boring. Even now in her early thirties, her body was one that would turn any man’s head, and it took careful dressing to keep it from doing so. Her breasts weren’t huge, but she certainly needed a bra. They rose gently up from her chest and swelled softly with each breath.

Long, slender legs like hers were the whole reason miniskirts were invented, and the graceful curve of her hip could easily turn heads.

But if she let that be the first impression on her male colleagues, it would be so strong as to crowd out other things, and Nancy wanted to be remembered for more than just a body. She smiled with quiet pride at the kept promise of her teenage years – to never use her body where her mind would do better, and not to coast through life on the strength of her boobs and butt.

A good figure seemed almost more of a curse than a blessing to her: once men saw it, they assumed you fucked your way to whatever status you had, and wrote off the other things you might have done to earn it.

It was that conviction that made the interviewing process a little bit simpler for her.

Both candidates were equally qualified. Both were women in their late twenties, at about the right stage in their careers for this job.

But one had the universal reputation of blowing whatever man could advance her career, and Nancy hated that. She’d heard men she trusted – men she considered friends – saying they’d slept with this woman, and that meant it wasn’t just typical male presumption about a pretty woman. These were men who wouldn’t lie to her.

A woman who climbed the corporate ladder that way wouldn’t make it past her. It gave her a laugh – just a little one – to think about what a woman like that would feel knowing that this time there was no man to play that trick on. Of course, telling her she didn’t get the job would still be uncomfortable.

The woman in question was Heidi Swenson, and she was also the first interview candidate. Unless she was late – never a good idea at a job interview – she would be waiting right outside the office door.

Nancy gave her mirror one last glance before throwing the door open and smiling into the small reception area. The room was about large enough for a secretary, her desk, and a couch, with not much room to spare. Her secretary nodded ever-so-slightly at the sofa on the far wall and, yes, Miss Swenson was waiting there. And from the looks of it, the idea that there wasn’t a man for her to manipulate hadn’t yet occurred to her.

Her blonde hair hung freely in a golden waterfall around her face, framing big blue eyes and fuck-me red lipstick. Her red power suit was all wrong for an interview situation, not least because of the very nearly transparent nature of the shell she wore under the blazer. Her high heels were way too high for business.

And that skirt! Mini didn’t describe it. It was too short even to be called a micro. The phrase, “I see London, I see France,” might have described it, except that when she uncrossed her legs to stand up, Heidi very deliberately showed Nancy that she wasn’t wearing underpants.

Nancy blinked, then blinked again. Her mouth, open to say, “Please come in,” hung that way without the words coming out.

It wasn’t like she’d never seen another woman’s genitalia before, of course. She was an adult, she worked out, she spent time in the health club locker room… but to be deliberately invited to look! And by a woman who very clearly expected hers to be seen… well, she had to, since no one would go to the trouble of shaving or waxing without meaning for someone to see. There was no fur at all down there by which to test whether she was a real blonde.

While Nancy tried to force words out, Heidi was on her feet and taking the three steps antalya escort to her door, fixing her skirt with one hand and carrying a briefcase in the other.

“Good morning, Miss Saddler,” she said. “Thank you for seeing me today.”

Nancy stood back from the door to let her pass while stammering, “Let’s… let’s go in here…”

The blonde let her thigh brush Nancy’s as she sauntered by slowly, and Nancy had no doubt it was deliberate. The other woman took a seat at the conference table without being asked, and Nancy shut the door and turned to follow, suddenly very conscious of how tightly the bun held her black hair, and how free Heidi’s was.

Other than the door and the mirror on it, Nancy’s office consisted of an oak desk with a black leather chair behind it, supporting a laptop and a globe, the better to illustrate their company’s worldwide reach. In front of the desk was a small round table with three chairs that she used for meetings. Heidi had taken the middle of the three chairs, so Nancy had to sit next to her rather than opposite and facing as would have been her preference.

“So, miss Swenson,” she said, easing into the chair. “Why do you want to be the Eastern Regional Marketing Coordinator?”

She had to force herself to ask that question – the standard one for an interview – rather than the one that was really on her mind: “Why are you trying to seduce me as if I were one of those men you rolled on your way this far?”

Heidi didn’t begin replying until Nancy looked directly at her, and then she held her boss’s gaze and looked into her eyes. “I want to play a greater role in the company,” she replied. “I want to find a way to contribute more.”

The eye contact made Nancy uncomfortable – it felt far too intimate for her. But she was determined not to show weakness by looking away first. There was far more to Heidi Swenson than she’d at first assumed.

“Do you have any ideas to bring to the job?”

Heidi smiled at her, still holding her gaze. “Retail marketing’s a pretty simple business, isn’t it? Sex sells. I think we need to push the envelope erotically. Think of it. Instead of that stupid cowboy we’ve been using in the current campaign, imagine a woman, lying in bed, probably naked but the picture cuts off just before you’d see her nipples, looking up at the viewer with her eyes half shut – inviting, sultry, waiting for you to join her. That’d sell a hell of a lot more bourbon than any stupid cowboy.

“I brought some samples of our competitors’ advertising to illustrate the point,” she added, pulling her briefcase up to the table. Nancy jerked her head up and down slightly, using the motion of her head to try and clear it. This whole interview was making her so nervous – it was like she was floating a few feet above her body and afraid the body would do something wrong without her to guide it.

Heidi opened the briefcase then pushed it to the far edge of the table so it wouldn’t come between the two of them. She pulled out a trendy men’s magazine – one of those that’s practically all about sex but stops short of actually showing nude pictures – with a page paper clipped and opened it. She pushed it in front of Nancy.

“I found this one in an article I was studying up on. See how sensuous? How sexy?”

Indeed, it was sensuous and sexy – a woman covered only in a bed sheet she held around herself, stepping foot outside a hotel room door to pick up a bottle of a competing brand of bourbon. Somehow, though, what Nancy noticed more than the picture was the article it was next to – the one Heidi claimed to have been studying up on.

It was a how-to article for men on cunnilingus techniques.

Nancy found her breath catching. It had been obvious from the start, but that laid it all out on the table: Heidi wanted to fuck her way through this interview too, just like all the others.

If she had been asked, Nancy would have replied indignantly, “No, of course I’m not a lesbian!” But that was only because the thought had never entered her mind. Lesbians were people who held protest marches in Washington DC, tried to get into the New York St. Patrick’s Day Parade, or lived in San Francisco. Not that she believed in stereotypes, really – it was just that it was a subject that had never come up.

Now, though, Heidi was bringing it up. Heidi was flirting with her, and harder than any man ever had. (After all, no man ever started things off by flashing her!) “Does she think I’m a lesbian?” Nancy asked herself. “Why does she think that? Do I look like one? What does a lesbian look like?”

She really had no idea what lesbian sex would even be like, though the article in front of her presented one obvious suggestion. None of Nancy’s boyfriends had ever been very good at that. It got to where she steered them away when they wanted to, because it always ended up being so boring and awkward. But now, as the idea entered her head of Heidi doing it for her, a strange shiver radiated out from between her legs.

Heidi flashed an encouraging kemer escort smile at her, apparently taking note of the flush of red decorating Nancy’s cheeks. Then she pulled the first magazine back and said, “This next one really clearly illustrates what I want to communicate to you.”

She pulled out a porno mag.

Heidi opened it to a paper clipped page, and there was another liquor ad, this one of a girl in a bikini bending over to pick up a bottle of whiskey. But on the page next to it…

A picture of a woman – a businesswoman, just like Nancy – sitting on the edge of her desk, skirt hiked up over her waist, with another woman’s head between her legs. The woman on the desk wore a look of absolute ecstasy – something Nancy only came close to alone with her vibrator, never with any of her former boyfriends. Her head was thrown back, her long, straight brown hair messed up, her eyes closed, and her mouth open, crying out.

“Do you see what I want you to see?” Heidi asked. “The sensuality – the eroticism. The promise of pleasure, if only you choose rightly. The promise of more than just pleasure, of tingles that make your whole body shiver, of waves that wash you away, of an experience you’ll never forget. That’s what I want. That’s what I hope you’ll take away from this interview.”

She never did make it clear whether she was talking about the liquor ad or the lesbian picture.

Heidi stood up, and took the single step that brought her next to Nancy. Standing behind her, she could have been looking down at the magazine along with her boss. But Nancy had no illusions as to what she was really there for.

The smell of her tickled Nancy’s nostrils. Perfume, yes – something from Givenchy – but also… her. Unmistakably the scent of her body. With her crotch right next to Nancy’s nose, and no panties or anything else to contain it, that smell was there for the taking. Musky, moist, and… arousing. Heidi was obviously wet, and with that thought came a second one, more surprising: Nancy was too.

The other woman spoke, her voice barely a whisper.

“Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to feel what she’s feeling?” As she spoke, Heidi brushed her fingertip against Nancy’s right earlobe, and slowly – ever so slowly, began to trail it down over her smooth cheek. “Don’t you think it would be so perfect for us?”

Now it was clearer that she wasn’t talking about the liquor ad. But her finger made a statement all its own, coming to rest against the very corner of Nancy’s mouth.

Since her jaw was hanging open, Heidi had no trouble slipping her fingertip between Nancy’s lips. Nancy thought her mouth was bone-dry, but somehow the other woman found a bit of moisture there. Then she slid the finger back, removed it, and touched it again to Nancy, this time just below her chin. She traced down, down, over her neck and to her chest, letting the finger find its path all the way down to the first fastened button on Nancy’s blouse.

Then Heidi’s head came down to her ear, and hot breath and brushing lips sent shivers through Nancy. “I could give you that,” the other woman whispered. “No consequences, no strings, just ecstasy like you’ve never had before. Let me. Please.”

Nancy’s mind whirled, floating, bobbing on a river of conflicting sensations. Confusion, shock, and fear (of being seen here like this, but also of… well, she couldn’t say, not yet). In a last gasp of professionalism, Nancy pushed back her chair from the table and stood up.

Heidi deftly took one step away so she avoided getting her toes run over. Nancy whirled to face the other woman, intending to demand, “What do you think you’re doing?”

But what came out was, “What… what… are you… do you…”

Heidi didn’t answer. Instead, she moved one hand to Nancy’s chin, and tilted her head up ever so slightly. It was only then that Nancy realized that the other woman was a couple inches taller than her – no doubt it came from her high heels.

Their lips met. Nancy blinked from surprise – somehow she hadn’t seen Heidi lowering her face to start the kiss, and only then did she realize it was because she’d closed her eyes.

Heidi’s kiss was very soft, not insistent at all. Her moist lips touched Nancy’s dry ones and brushed there gently. No tongue tried to force its way into her mouth, no greedy, grasping embrace trapped her against the other woman’s body. Just that gentle, moist contact of mouths, and Nancy closed her eyes again.

“Let me do it for you Nancy,” Heidi breathed, her voice huskier than the soft whispers of before. “Let me pleasure you. I’ll take you places you’ve never been before, give you thrills you didn’t know you could have.”

Unable to speak, unable to understand, and unable to get rid of the vertiginous sense of being outside her body, Nancy jerked her head up and down once, as if the nod came of its own accord, desperate to get out before something else could hold it back.

As soon as she did, those lips touched hers konyaaltı escort again, and this time it wasn’t just a gentle brush. Heidi’s mouth met hers, opened, and her tongue poked out to help Nancy part her lips. The other woman sucked gently on her upper lip, their tongues touched, and hands began to travel over Nancy’s body.

Heidi touched her shoulders, her back, the back of her neck. All the while kissing, exploring her mouth, curing the dryness there with moisture of her own, Heidi touched Nancy softly, seeking her pleasure points. She touched all over her back, pressing just hard enough to be felt through the blazer. She rubbed, caressed, and moved around, touching an elbow, the neck again, and her waist – all without ever traveling below that, or moving around to her breasts.

All that changed in the blink of an eye, when one of Heidi’s hands moved down to squeeze Nancy’s ass, and the other snaked around to the front. She went slowly, even so, making Nancy feel the fingertip on her side and her ribcage before finally cupping the breast through her clothing.

Just once, a thumb brushed across Nancy’s nipple, firm enough to be felt very clearly through her clothing. She gasped. Then she gasped again as the hand went away from her breast.

Then a third time, when the hand reappeared along with the other one, at the hem of her skirt. In one smooth motion, Heidi hiked it up to Nancy’s waist. At the same time she muffled the gasping with a new kiss, tongue touching tongue.

Those hands found the waistband of her panties, thumbs hooking under it and tugging down. Nancy felt the elastic rolling through her black pubic hair, then the brief shiver of it almost touching her clitoris. Heidi got the underwear over her hips, then let them fall, over the thigh high stockings, and down to the ground. Then she looked into Nancy’s eyes, smiled and waited.

This was the first active participation that had been required of Nancy, however small. Timidly, she lifted her right foot to get it free of her filmy silk panties. They caught on her sensible leather pump, and she had to shake her foot slightly to get free. Then the left foot lifted, much smoother, and left her underwear on the floor.

Heidi beamed at her, grabbed her naked ass with both hands, and lifted her up to sit on the edge of the table. Kissing Nancy one last time, she knelt in front of her and looked up.

Nancy shifted nervously, afraid. This was the part that had always made her nervous with men, too – letting them see her down there, letting them look close. It felt dirty, bad, naughty – she kept her thighs together. But Heidi simply smiled up at her and rested a hand on each of her knees. Gently, she pried Nancy’s thighs apart, and kept on until her legs were as spread as they could get. She maneuvered a bit more, working Nancy’s rear until she was perched precariously just on the edge of the table, her butt cheeks on but the rest of her off. Briefly she was afraid of losing her balance and falling, until Heidi lifted first one leg, then the other, up over her shoulders.

That allowed Nancy to lean back, and brace herself on her hands. The right one came to rest on something glossy, and she looked down to see that she’d touched the magazine, her finger obscuring the face of the model sitting on the desk with her legs spread. But then Heidi took her mind off that.

Nancy felt the first kiss at the top of her stocking, then the warm, wet trail Heidi blazed as she licked her way up the thigh. Her last lick was a long one, along the crease where her thigh joined her pelvis, then she stopped to look up at Nancy again and smile.

“You don’t have to…” Nancy began, but it didn’t last. Heidi’s tongue touched her slit, then continued all the way from back to front – a broad, wet stroke that sent a spasm through her entire body.

Heidi’s tongue was slow at first, as if curious and unsure. Very gently her labia were probed and tasted, first the outer, then inside. She felt tiny little pokes, like a kid peeking around the corner as his parents wrap the Christmas presents.

Then Heidi added her fingers to the mix, brushing the outer lips then parting them, giving her tongue greater access. Her strokes became more assured, her tongue probing folds and valleys Nancy didn’t know her body had. She could feel how wet she was, and wondered why that wasn’t bothering Heidi, why she didn’t pull back.

Then, all at once, a surprise, came the first broad, hard, wet lick over her clit. Nancy gasped again, and Heidi didn’t repeat it right away, sending her tongue instead to places nearby but not quite there. Then the tongue came back, touching off little tremors that traveled like lightning up her backbone.

When Heidi slipped her tongue away from the little pink button again, Nancy was fully engaged. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, and one of her hands came up from supporting her to touch the back of Heidi’s head.

But the other woman pressed on with her own plans, and soon Nancy felt that tongue slip ever so slightly inside her. She shivered at the pressure on her inner walls. All the way in it went – never very deep, but still… then out, then darting back in. It wasn’t anything like the sensation of getting fucked. Instead, it made Nancy think of where the term “being eaten out” came from.

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