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This is a flight of fantasy; completely fictitious. If there is any resemblance to anyone walking among us my apologies.
Since this is the beginning I thought I would begin with a confession of sorts. What follows is a true story. Wry smile. I should know since it happened to me. I admit to being embarrassed, at first, about it all. However, another, once deeply hidden part of me is both thrilled and relieved that I’m being allowed to get all this out in public, in a manner of speaking.
This is not bragging. It’s not a lie. It’s just me recounting a description of myself, my life, my work and the like. I’m 47, rather average height, quite fit, thanks to a vigorous workout regime devised by a she-devil named Lissy. I keep my jet black hair at shoulder length. I get pampered at a salon every week. The regimen varies. They set the schedule; I show up when I’m in town – if not, one of my assistants calls to cancel. I have a personal shopper; my measurements, likes and dislikes are kept. When they come across something I’ll like, it’s sent to my place. A decorated decorator (I apologize) keeps my house well appointed. When home my personal chef prepares meals that are healthy, tasty, and nearly always for one. The curious will want to know: 34C, 25, 36, brown eyes, and a landing strip.
The glass ceiling that’s often talked about? I didn’t break it. I left it shattered in a zillion pieces. Blew through undergrad in 3 yrs, dean’s list, summa cum blah blah. I did grad school in 18 months while holding down a full-time job – a breeze. You’d recognize the name of the school; it’s always listed in magazine articles that rank schools. The starting salary of my first job was $60,000. Yes, that was a lot in those days. I’m highly placed in a very big international conglomerate. As it’s listed I can’t name it; there are risks. I’m very well paid these days, with perks: performance bonuses, restricted shares, stock options, car and driver allowances, membership in my health club, and generous vacation time.
You’re jealous? I’m sorry darling. That saying, “It ain’t bragging if you can do it.” I did and I’m not.
I’m gay. I knew it from an early age; had my first serious lover in high school. At that early age it was rather innocent and wonderful until I had to leave for college. She threatened to kill herself if I left. I told her that was absolutely ridiculous. I had to go and she would survive and, in time, find someone else. College? I was busy with classes. Men; ah yes, men. My distance was met with derision and more. They took to spreading rumors that I was a lesbian. I smiled – rather, we smiled. Michelle was on the lacrosse team; she and I were roommates. That was convenient, though tongues did waggle when we moved in together off campus. She discovered a trait (uncovered might be more accurate) that remained dormant for decades after I moved on to grad school and work. That trait is part and parcel of this tale.
Even Cinderella didn’t get everything she wanted. There’s little time for relationships. Yes, you’re right. If I’d wanted to make time I could. It would simply be impossible for me to use an executive dating service. I’ve yet to hear of one that’s above board. Here’s my little secret: Once a year I go to an island. No, I won’t tell you the direction or any other detail. The only details I’ll share are these: it’s exclusive, it’s for women only, and you have to be recommended and/or invited. You can’t bring anyone with you. There are no cameras allowed. They even frown upon the use of phones for obvious reasons. Printed instructions in every room very clearly state that if you must use your phone for business do so from your room. If you’re getting the idea of the amount of effort that this resort expends to protect their visitors – good. For two weeks I get to be me: slinky, sexy, decadent, needy, greedy, completely, wantonly me. I came home, tamped it all down, and got back to work. I’m sure a few eyebrows are raised (behind my back) at my tan and my rather liquid, languid strides. Yes, ladies, you damn well know what I mean.
I have a P.A. and an intern. Both are women. In this day and age of P.C. no one would dare say a word out loud. This is me smirking. Every single one of my interns has been a young, ambitious, bright woman from one of the many four year schools in the city where I live and work. There are several others in the metropolitan area. I am flooded with resumes every year that are passed to my P.A. who is tasked with doing due diligence, etc. I’m sure you’ll smirk at the coincidence that my P.A. is gay as well. Yes, we were lovers. Yes, I’m completely impossible to have a meaningful relationship with. I know that. Even when she travelled with me it didn’t stem the growing distance between us. She’s exactly what I need as a P.A., smart as a whip, can’t be intimidated – um, even by me, and knows what I need and does it, often without being asked. Think female ‘Radar’ on M.A.S.H. She’s genuinely happy in a very loving, relationship with a very lovely bahis firmaları woman her own age. It makes my heart soar to see two humans so in love. I’m very jealous.
Every intern spends a semester. Linda, my P.A., knows the qualifications I require. Yes, they have to be lesbian. No, Linda doesn’t have to find out first hand. I trust her gaydar. Truth? Most of them can’t wait to get away from me and work elsewhere. I admit it’s not in my nature to be a bitch but my work requires me to be a stern taskmistress. I do heed the adage: Praise in public, reprimand in private. Linda keeps a box of Kleenex on her desk for those who need it after a visit to ‘The Bitch’s Dungeon.’ Our work requires precision; inaccuracy is not well received by those above me. It’s also hazardous to our stock which hurts us all. Long story short: If you can make it here … well, you know the rest.
The current intern began in October; her term runs 6 months. Sheri is from a small town in western Pennsylvania. She was valedictorian, played and lettered in several sports, plays softball in college, and carries a double major – Economics and International Business. How she finds time to intern I have no idea; not my problem. She’s a leggy, 5-10 blonde, green eyed, full lips, a slender yet lush figure. She dresses well, which is a job requirement. Linda makes it clear to intern candidates that skirts are preferred though not mandated.
“Okay Julia, enough of your little ‘saga.’ Get the real story started.”
I was leading a rather large gathering from different divisions in the company. We had settled on Dallas because it was a major destination for most cities here in the US and easily accessible for those from other countries. Linda and Sheri were primarily tasked with putting the details together after I had handed them an outline of what the theme would be. The date proved to be a problem for Linda. She and her honey had scheduled a vacation several months ago. She practically begged me to allow her to keep her plans intact. I did feel obligated to allow her to do just that.
I asked her if she thought Sheri was up to the task of handling the conference for me. She thought for a bit and slowly, her head nodding, said, “Yes, I think so. She may resist with school and obligations inherent in that. But she may jump at the chance to ‘run’ the show for you.”
Told you she was a smart cookie!! That was exactly what I had been thinking.
“Would you please bring her in here so I can discuss it with her?”
“Sure. Be right back.”
While Linda is bringing Sheri to my office I’ll share a few thoughts. I had my eye on this one. She is super hot. I mean, the girl could read the phone book and have me wet. I knew full well that Linda and her honey had planned a trip. I scheduled the conference with that in mind. I also knew Sheri couldn’t pass up the chance to run it. I planned to take full advantage of the opportunity as well as full advantage of the young lady. I demurely bow in your general direction. AS IF.
“Julia we’re both here.”
“Good. Hi Sheri; how’s the day going?”
“Frantically busy as always, Ms. Simpson, but I’m managing thanks.”
“Mm hmm, I expect that you would. Please sit down.”
Linda was already seated. Sheri took a seat next to her.
“Linda, how are preparations for the conference coming along? Everything going as planned?”
“Yes Julia. Sheri and I are getting everything in order. Rooms are booked. The hotel has faxed us details of the scheduled meals. Through the hotel, we’ve contracted with cab companies and such to get our people to hotel as needed, with an appropriate discount. Sheri, anything to add?”
“No, Linda, I think that covers it. Ms. Simpson, I’m sure there will be a last minute surprise or two, but as of now I think the two of us pretty much have it handled. One of us will let you know if there’s anything you need to be apprised of.”
“Very good, both of you – well done. Sheri, I’m going to need you to accompany me on this little trip. Our Linda has a long standing vacation planned. I confess I’d forgotten about it when the trip was planned. Now, I know you have a full class load at school and that demands a lot of your time beyond what you do here. I need to know if you can be free for the three days that this conference will take, keeping in mind that the last two days are a Saturday and Sunday.”
Sheri paled then flushed. My hands were clasped on my desk. I used a thumb nail to dig into the skin of one finger to keep from letting my emotions show. I could nearly see her mind whirring through calculations. She sat very still through it all. This girl is really something. As her eyes were down I gave a quick glance to Linda; a small smile and a nod in reply.
Sheri cleared her throat, looked me in the eye, and, “Ms. Simpson, I may have to request a reschedule of a test or two but I’d very much like to accompany you. Thank you for asking; it’s an honor.” I know. I plan on enjoying kaçak iddaa every bit of you.
Nodding somberly, I said, “Well Sheri, do what you can. The decision has already been made to have Linda enjoy her time off. I hoped you’d be able to figure this out. I’m going to assume you’re a go unless I hear otherwise. Thank you. Linda, could you stay behind for a minute please?” Taking her hint Sheri got up and left.
“That went well Julia.” I saw the glimmer. “You have plans for this one?”
“Yes. She’s the first since you I’ve taken an interest in.”
“She’ll do it; she’s too ambitious not to. She’s driven, smart, and wants to work here for you – she’s told me as much.”
“Perfect. I’m sure I’ll find a way to use that to my advantage. Anything else we need to discuss?”
“Nope. Things are good.”
“Okay then, I have calls to make. Poke your head in if you need me for something. Please close the door on your way out.”
Nodding, she stood and left.
Among the perks in my contract was a washroom in my office that comes in handy at a moment like this. I took my purse and opened the door, closed it behind me, and locked it. I unzipped my skirt and stepped out of it. My panties were sopping wet. I removed the vibe, sat down on the toilet, pushed aside the wet silk and went about getting rid of the ache that had been driving me crazy the last twenty minutes. My eyes closed. I saw her beneath me, writhing in her naked glory as I dragged yet another orgasm from her. Her fingers were in my hair as she held me to her scented essence. She bucked in her frenzy, desperate to prolong the waves of pleasure that had overwhelmed her. I called out her name as my own bliss rode in like a white hot, roiling bolt that had my clit pulsing and my stomach clenching. It tore through me quickly and left me a desperate, breathless, smiling mess. I let myself settle before trying to stand. There is a little drawer in the sink. After splashing some cold water on my face, running my fingers through my hair, and using a wash cloth to clean up a bit, I reached in for a fresh pair of panties, put them on, slid my skirt up, zipped it, winked at the vixen in the mirror, and left.
The rest of the day was business as usual – phone calls, emails, meetings, meetings, and more meetings. I do my very best to keep the meetings to a minimum. Staff knows not to call a meeting without very good reason. My higher ups haven’t yet come round to my way of thinking. Men seem to thrive on the camaraderie of them. I think they’re idiots. There’s more time spent talking about this game, this trade, this golf score, then they go out to lunch and talk about it some more. When I’m CEO … even I admit that’s not likely. I already know what my next promotion would be and I’m not sure I’ll accept it.
So the days came off the calendar and the conference drew closer. Updates from Linda confirmed that, yes, Sheri is able to go. Yes, things are moving along as planned. Yes, we have adjoining suites. I have to check on the important things.
Linda and Kat actually left for their vacation the weekend before our conference began. I knew that. I’d planned it. That gave me extra time alone with Sheri. I kept things absolutely, positively professional. I never gave her reason to be suspicious. She was too busy to have any idea what I had planned. I made sure of it. She had both her work and Linda’s to tend to and she knew that I expected excellence. She kept nose to said grindstone and got everything that was tasked to her complete. I handed her the plane ticket the morning (Thursday) we were scheduled to leave. What she didn’t know was that the first class ticket in her hand would have her sit next to me.
Having miles gave me access to the airline’s special ‘Club’ section in the airport. I took advantage and sent several emails, made a few calls, had a chardonnay, then headed to the gate. Security? Do I really need to go there? I breezed through and headed to the gate. Oh my god! I saw J.D. Robb’s latest: “New York to Dallas” and detoured to buy it. It was only a two hour flight but there might be some downtime during my time in Dallas. Downtime? I crack myself up.
I got to the gate thirty five minutes before departure. My pr … Sheri was already there, working her phone, messaging, emailing, texting, god only knows. I stood and stared for a moment. Yum. I made my way to where she sat – head down, busy doing intern things. In a soft, cool voice I said, “You really aren’t required to spend every minute on business.”
With a start, she looked up. She blushed delic … furiously and, “Sorry Ms. Simpson, I’m chatting with classmates about assignments and the like. Looking left and right, she cleared some things and asked, “Please, take a seat.” The smile was dazzling.
“I’m guessing this is your first business trip, Sheri. Does your softball team travel much?”
“Yes Ma’am.” Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh my god; I’m so sorry. Yes Ms. Simpson.” Cha ching!
I took her cool hand in mine kaçak bahis and patted it softly. “No reason to apologize Sheri. I am quite a bit older. (Soft smile) If I were you I’m sure I would have extended the same courtesy you did.” Her hands were soft; I realized she had a delicate yet rather large hand and that she didn’t pull her hand away from my touch.
After releasing her hand, I purred, “Have you checked in? Where’s your seat Sheri?”
“I … umm … Ms. Simpson, the counter attendant told me I was in first class. I was surprised.”
“I think our travel department may have put us next to each other. I’m in 2D.”
She reached into her purse – her eyes widened. “Oh my goodness, I’m in 2F.” Those wide green eyes met mine. “I never … I mean, I don’t usually … umm … oh god, this is wonderful.” The net tightened!
“It will be great; a quick hop to Dallas, then to the hotel, dinner, and it all begins tomorrow morning.” My best smile.
She simply stared in disbelief. One word: putty.
What Sheri couldn’t know was that our travel department booked me in business class. She’d been booked in coach. The state of airline travel meant I was upgraded to first class, naturally, on the piddling little regional jet. I used my own miles to have Sheri upgraded. All in the name of the moth being drawn closer to her flame. The flight was called. I got to board before Sheri did but she found her seat next to me in short order. We settled in. Once the riff raff had been seated and the doors closed the flight attendant came around to take drink orders.
“Sheri, what will you have?”
“Oh just a coke Ms. Simpson.”
“Nonsense darling. It’s a business trip, but even business trips allow for some free time. Miss, two chardonnays please.”
“But Ms. Simpson, I don’t …” I cut her off.
“My name is Julia, Sheri. If we’re going to be on a two and a half hour flight and spending two and a half days doing this conference, when it’s just you and I, I’m Julia.” Brilliant smile.
I swear the green eyes clouded over in confusion.
“Okay Ms. Simp … umm, Julia. Thank you. I’m not sure it won’t take me a while to get used to using your name.”
Inside voice. I know darling. I’m counting on that and plan to use it to my advantage.
The attendant brought our wine. I smiled brightly and clinked glasses.
“May this be a liftoff of sorts for your career, Sheri.” My god, she blushed fabulously.
Once airborne and settled at our cruising altitude the attendant brought menus. Sheri’s eyes moved over it, turned the page over again and again, and had a rather wide eyed look.
“Ms. Umm, Julia, what should I order?”
“No biggie kiddo; we’ll get in about 9. If you’re hungry we can grab a snack in the hotel. Otherwise have an entrée. There are several to choose from. See anything you like?” I apologize; it was there – I had to.
“I suppose this chicken thing looks okay. I have to watch calories and all.”
“I’ve had it once before on this airline; it’s reasonably good. Good choice dear.” Hand patted.
“Julia … oh my god, I can’t get used to calling you that … am I up to handling this? Tell me the truth, please.”
“Sheri, know this. If Linda didn’t think you could handle it, she would have cancelled her vacation. If I didn’t think you could handle it, I would have found someone else. You’re my intern for the semester. You’ve proven yourself to be a hard worker, you’ve stayed on task, and every assignment has been completed well and on time. Now answer me this – do you have the same sort of insecurity in your softball setting?”
Her eyes lit brightly. “Oh my god no. I’m captain of the team, I’m the catcher, so I have 8 pairs of eyes on me with every pitch. I love it. No, not at all. Thank you so much Julia – really.” Hook in mouth, catch snagged!
Dinner orders were taken. I turned to my book after having another glass of wine poured. Note: The attendant was just diligent enough for me to take notice. I finally noticed her lingering gaze as she wandered the aisles. One of us? I mused – Was she aware of the delicate dance I was engaging with Sheri?
Dinner was served. Her name tag said Veronica. Her hand brushed mine ever so lightly as she put my tray on the ledge. She caught my glance and I caught the glimmer. Was it interest or awareness?
I fawned over my intern. “How’s your dinner dear?” “Do you care for more wine?’ “Do you need a blanket?” yada yada. She did take the blanket, curled beneath it, leaned back in the seat, and was gone in a blink. Probably the wine. I snuck some not so furtive glances her way as she dozed. My god she’s more beautiful than I’d had time to notice – thick, full lashes, cute little hoops in her ears, very little makeup, a sleek, smooth neck, fabulously feminine. Yum!
Veronica saw her sleeping and leaned over me to take her tray and glass. She made sure to give me a close up of her ample bosom. I was able to get a whiff of her rather exotic, enticing scent as well. No, not that one! The only lavatory was in the rear of the airplane; otherwise I may have been tempted. I really did, for a moment, think she might lean in give me a kiss.
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