2 comments/ 13788 views/ 1 favorites Working Girl Blues Ch. 01 By: SantaMaria As she slowly pushed her remaining stocking down her left leg with her opposite toe, Katerina groaned in pain. Her entire body ached. Her new job as the sole receptionist for the city's biggest law firm was not nearly the walk in the park she'd been expecting. She'd graduated two years earlier from one of the Midwest's most prestigious law schools, and she had hesitated before accepting the job offer. The truth was, though, that Katerina's job prospects were less than stellar. She had had time neither during her undergraduate work nor during law school to undertake any really experiential internships, and potential hirers never failed to notice. It wasn't really fair, Katerina thought for what must have been the thousandth time. How could she have possibly found the time to build a great résumé? Barely two weeks after Katerina's twentieth birthday, her younger brother had called her with rage in his voice. All he had said was that their mother was dead and that he was not dealing with any of the "fucking funeral shit." Katerina's entire world crumbled with that phone call, but somehow she had made it through. Her entire semester was, of course, ruined. What was she supposed to do? She'd gone home, made all the funeral and burial arrangements, sold their home, and found her brother an apartment. All in only three weeks. And even after missing three weeks of classes, the lowest grade she'd gotten that semester was a C+. Okay, she relented, maybe ruined was too strong of a word. But still, that semester was what had kept them all from seeing--- Her cell phone burst into a loud rap song, startling Katerina from her thoughts about the past and causing her to nearly trip over the heels that she'd left strewn behind her upon the floor. "Jesus, Christie," she breathed, digging the phone from inside her bag. "Hey, lovely, what's up?" "Oh my God, Kat, you finally fucking answered! I've been calling you all day." "Chris. I have a job, remember?" "Yeah, yeah, so do I, okay? Just hurry up and get ready. It's almost eight o'clock already. I'm picking you up at ten sharp, so you better be dressed and you better look hot. I don't spend my Friday nights out on the town with ugly broads, okay?" "Fuck you," Katerina laughed. "I always look hot. I'll see you at ten, you bitch." Christie only laughed back at her and disconnected. Katerina tossed the phone onto her bed. She had been looking forward to this night all week, and now she was so exhausted she was almost dreading it. She did have a whole two hours to get ready, though. Maybe a quick nap would spruce her up so all the dancing she was planning on doing wouldn't be such a chore. Yes, she decided, a nap was exactly what she needed. Kat pulled her camisole up over her head and tugged the pins from her long coffee colored hair. She slid into the cool silk sheets of her extravagantly large bed wearing just her lace bra and panties. She moaned her delight at the way her mattress welcomed her body and made her instantly relax. She barely remembered to reach over and set her alarm before falling deeply asleep. ------------------------ Kat woke with a start and fumbled for her alarm clock, worried she'd overslept. But she was fine – she'd only been out for twenty minutes. Why was she awake already when she'd been so tired? "Ohhh God," she moaned as she suddenly remembered in vivid detail the dream she'd just been having. It was about Mr. Huntington...it seemed all her dreams were about Mr. Huntington lately. And who could argue that they shouldn't be? The man was absolutely gorgeous. Well over six feet tall and deliciously broad, she swore she could feel his presence every time he entered a room she was in. He was significantly older than she was, but fine, whatever, she didn't care. His close-cropped thick grey hair was possibly the most attractive thing about him. Well, maybe. His icy blue eyes and beautiful hands certainly didn't hurt. Kat had always had a weak spot for men with nice hands. As attractive as the man was, Katerina wanted nothing more than to stop having these thoughts – or more importantly, these dreams – about Mr. Huntington. The man was her boss, for Chrissakes. Not just her boss, but the firm's founder and head. She had met him nearly a month ago, when her interview process first started. Huntington personally hired all his staff – even the lowly receptionist. Ever since that first time he had called her into his office, Kat couldn't be within twenty feet of the man without going wet between the legs. These goddamn dreams....they were really taking away from the quality of her sleep. If she were honest with herself, though, Kat had to admit that her subconscious tryst with Mr. Huntington was the hottest action she'd been getting lately, and she wasn't really in any hurry for it to stop. Katerina closed her eyes and replayed the dream in her mind, filling in any missing details as she went. She had been dictating a letter for him, something she very rarely did in real life. But this was a dream, so why not? She sat in front of his desk in her pencil skirt, blouse, and thigh-high stockings, legs crossed tightly to help alleviate the arousal she couldn't escape in his presence. He was telling her that this was a personal letter, but that he trusted no one else with writing it. She nodded eagerly and sat forward in her chair, ready to write whatever he demanded. "My dearest Elaine," Mr. Huntington began, "I wanted – no, I needed – desperately to write you a few words about last night. I think perhaps you got the wrong impression of me. I have the utmost respect for you, not only as a client, not only as a woman, but most importantly, as a person. I feel that over the past few weeks, we have allowed ourselves to become closer than appropriate, given our professional relationship. Last night I overstepped the bounds of that relationship, and I sincerely hope that you can forgive me. Don't get me wrong, Elaine, fucking you was one of the most enjoyable experiences I've ever had, but we simply cannot allow our emotions—" "Um, sir?" "What?" "Did you say...did you say, 'Fucking you?'" "Fucking, yes, fucking. Come now, Miss Callahan, surely you are familiar with that verb. I told you this was a personal letter, and I meant it. Are you ready to continue? We're almost done, I promise." "Yes, Mr. Huntington." "Okay....where was I? Ah. We cannot allow our emotions to overcome us like that again. I assure you that, in future, I will make certain that one or more of my colleagues are always present with us during our meetings. I hope that this will satisfy your sense of decorum and make you comfortable continuing business with our firm. Best wishes, Thomas Huntington. Did you get all that?" "Yes, of course, sir....but I have one question, sir." "Yes, Miss Callahan?" "Where did you fuck her, sir?" "Oh come now, Miss Callahan, surely you know that. In her pussy, of course." He was teasing her, she could tell. How else could she respond but to tease back? "Her pussy, sir? Yes, yes, I suppose that would be right...but where in location, sir? Across this desk?" She stood up from her chair and walked forward to his enormous mahogany desk. She dragged her fingers innocently along the front edge of it, then suggestively brought her hand up to her nose. "Ah, you did fuck her across your desk, didn't you, Mr. Huntington?" Huntington stood up and came around to the front of the desk. He stood next to her, not looking at her, but rather leaning forward pretending to examine the surface of his desk. "Why, Miss Callahan," he said, "I had no idea your sense of smell was so good." "It's not all that great, sir...but may I say that your lady Elaine seems to have a bit of a pungent pussy...you may want to wash your desk, Mr. Huntington." "Would you say, Miss Callahan, that your cunt smells any better?" "Oh yes, sir, I know it does...and I would bet that it tastes infinitely sweeter as well." Suddenly he was standing behind her, shoving her forward onto the desktop so that she was bent at her waist. Papers flew everywhere, but neither paid them any mind. Suddenly, somehow she was completely naked, save the three-inch heels she always wore to the office. "I think I ought to decide who's pussy tastes best, don't you think, Miss Callahan?" Katerina could only moan as she laid in bed, imagining the older man saying such things to her. Her fingers danced gently over her mound, feather light through her panties. "I asked you a question, Miss Callahan." "Yes, Mr. Huntington, yes, sir. Taste my pussy, Mr. Huntington, please taste my pussy," Katerina whimpered aloud in her bedroom. Her fingers slipped inside the black lace covering her, tracing over her outer lips, already puffy with desire. She could feel her wetness soaking the inside of her underwear, and with a groan, slid the confining fabric down her legs and dropped it onto the floor. Her hand slipped back up, her thumb barely touching her clit as she imagined Huntington's tongue between her legs. Her left hand grasped her breast through her bra, and she was unsurprised to find her nipple already hard against her palm. She squeezed roughly, moaning his name, urging him to lick her, help her, please, Mr. Huntington, please. Kat pushed the cup down roughly, freeing her breast. She pulled hard on her nipple, gasping at the pain and at the sensation it sent all the way down her stomach to her already sopping wet cunt. She needed to come so badly, she could hardly breathe with the desire to come. She told herself to slow down, to make it last, but even as she tried, her imagination took over. Huntington had spun her around so that she lay sprawled on her back across his desk. He was kneeling between her spread knees looking at her with fire in those icy blue eyes. His head was suddenly pressed hard against her pussy, his tongue deep inside her, his thumb stroking furiously against her hardened clit. "Mr. Huntington! Ohhh, please, sir, please, Mr. Huntington," Katerina cried out, plunging one finger, then two into her cunt. With her palm she rubbed circles over her clit, feeling her back arch involuntarily, trying to get closer to the source of her pleasure. Her left hand never left her left nipple, tugging and twisting, only heightening the sensations running through her. She plunged her fingers into her cunt, switching up her fantasy on the fly. They were his fingers inside her, his big, beautiful hands diving in and out of her pussy, pressing against her g-spot with every outward stroke. His tongue was circling her clit and his eyes, his eyes were looking up at her. He could see her playing with her own breasts and suddenly his tongue was in his mouth, he was suckling her clit, he was fucking her with his fingers, ohhh it was fantastic... "Ohhhhhh, Mr. Huntington!" Katerina cried out as suddenly her pussy was clenching around her fingers and her toes were curling into the mattress. She could barely breathe as the pleasure reached its peak, and she kept rubbing her pussy gently as the waves slowly subsided. She sighed her pleasure as she lay back against the pillows and let sleep claim her once more. Working Girl Blues Ch. 02 When her alarm finally sounded, Katerina dragged herself out of bed and into the shower. She stood enjoying the steaming water for a few minutes before remembering that she didn't really have a lot of time left to get ready. She hurriedly washed her hair and shaved her legs before reluctantly stepping out onto the cold tiles of her bathroom floor. Showering was definitely her favorite part of the day, she decided. Kat had just put on the final touches of her makeup when she heard a sharp knock on the door. Glancing at the clock, she saw that Christie had arrived right at ten, just as she'd promised. As Kat opened the door, Christie gave her an appraising look. "Are you seriously wearing that?" "What's wrong with it?" Katerina asked defensively. "We're going to a club, not to church, okay, Kat? Where's the skin?" Katerina just laughed, but she walked back into her bedroom to find something else to wear, Christie trailing behind her. She thought her outfit looked good: tight dark jeans that hugged her ankles and showed off the four-inch jeweled stilettos she'd just bought last week, with a long burgundy tank top that clung tightly under her breasts, accenting her slender waist. Sure, the neckline was practically matronly compared to the plunging v of Christie's top, but it wasn't as if she were wearing a turtleneck, for God's sake. As Kat looked at herself in the mirror, Christie was rummaging through her closet. "Where are all your skank clothes? Don't tell me you threw them all out when we graduated." "Chris, I never owned any 'skank clothes'. I always borrowed yours, remember?" "Ah, yes. Okay, well, you certainly cannot go out in that," Christie said, joining Kat in front of the mirror. The two girls made an interesting pair. While Kat's hair fell down her back in a long, dark mess of curls and waves, Christie's platinum blonde locks were cut model-short and straightened to perfection. Both girls were tall, but Kat had a few inches on her friend...although, she thought somewhat jealously, not where she wanted them. Kat had a good-enough body, she thought, but Christie's figure was to die for. She had shapely calves, slender thighs, minimal ass, and a beautiful rack. Kat, on the other hand, had medium-sized (though nice-looking) breasts and a flat stomach leading down to surprisingly curvy hips. The two often had arguments about which asset was more attractive: Christie's boobs or Kat's ass. Not that either of them were really lacking in the beauty department. Whenever they would walk into a party together, heads would turn – both male and female heads. Still, though, Katerina never had acquired the confidence her friend had when it came to dressing scandalously. Christie's outfit tonight epitomized her style. She had on a skin-tight black halter top that showed so much cleavage it was almost impossible to keep one's eyes on her face. The black capri pants she had chosen to go with it would have looked subtle and simple on anyone else...but not on Christie. They were probably two sizes smaller than she usually wore, and looked just as painted-on as her halter top. Her feet were encased in black patent-leather heels with pointed toes that would look ridiculous on most girls, but looked just plain hot on her. "Okay, I know what we're going to do," Christie said, "Take your pants off." "What? I don't have a skirt that would look good with this," Kat said. "Oh give me a break. You don't need a skirt with that. Look how long it is!" Katerina eyed her tank top in the mirror. Yes, it did go down to about her mid-thigh, but it was definitely a top, not a dress. She would look like an idiot wearing it without pants. "Christie, come on..." "Shut up, Kat, and take your pants off. It's already after ten and I want to get drunk. So let's go." Kat shook her head, but as always, she took Christie's advice. She took off her shoes and stepped out of her jeans. As she strapped the sandals back on her feet, she examined herself in the mirror. "Chris, no. I look like a fucking prostitute." "I know! It's fantastic, Kat, it's so hot." The top looked fine as a dress...in the front. When Kat turned around, however, the bottom hem barely covered her ass. She looked like a huge slut, she thought, but then again, she also felt immensely attractive. The top clung to her curves perfectly, and the heels she was wearing made her butt look even better than usual. Maybe this was Christie's secret. Pretend you're the hottest thing to ever walk into a place and suddenly, you are. Kat let out a long sigh. "Fuck it," she said, "Let's go." "All riiiight!" Christie cheered, "Let's get drunk!" Katerina grabbed her clutch, locked her door, and they hopped into an elevator headed downstairs. They hailed a cab and were outside their favorite club in less than ten minutes. As soon as they stepped out of the taxi, the Bunkhouse's bouncer waved at them to come through to the front of the line. "Thanks, Matt," Kat said with a smile. Christie just grinned and smacked him on the ass. Matt gave her a stern look, but Kat saw him start to laugh as he turned away. It wasn't even 10:30 and the club was already packed with drunk twenty-somethings. The music was loud, the air was hot, and Kat wanted a drink. Christie, as always, was ready to start dancing, but agreed to hang out at the bar with her friend for at least a couple of songs. When they got to the bar, Kat ordered a vodka tonic. Christie apparently didn't hear her ask for it, because when the tender came back and handed Kat her drink, her friend gave her an incredulous look. "Jesus Christ, Kat, it's a fucking Friday!," she yelled over the music. Turning to the bartender, she continued, "Danny, darling, we need six shots of Jack like stat, and give me one of your cheapest beers to chase." He looked at her a moment to be sure she was serious, then lined up six glasses in front of the girls and started pouring. "Chris, seriously? Do we really have to start with whiskey?" Kat asked. "Damn right we do, and don't look so sad about it, I only ordered it because you like it!" Katerina laughed and couldn't help but agree. Jack Daniels really was her drink of choice, especially if she was looking to get wasted, which apparently was their goal for this particular evening. "All right, let's do this!" Christie yelled. The girls each picked up a shot from the opposite ends of the line and threw it back. In less than two minutes, all six glasses stood empty on the bar, along with the mug from Christie's beer and the glass from Kat's vodka tonic. The two girls just looked at each other and started giggling. "Okay, okay, let's dance," Kat said. "Finally," Christie said, grabbing Kat's hand and leading her to the dance floor. They both ignored the appreciative looks of the men who had witnessed them downing their whiskey. When they hit the floor, Kat realized that she was already feeling drunk. Should've eaten dinner, she thought to herself. The music was pounding and when Christie pulled her close and started grinding their hips together, Kat just grinned, closed her eyes, and threw herself into the music. All she could feel was the bass and the heat from the bodies surrounding her, and as she moved, she let herself forget everything. She stopped thinking about work and her brother and her mom and her too-high rent. She gave in to the thumping beat and the sway of Christie's body and suddenly she was having as much fun as she had had in a long time. When Christie moved away to dance with a well-built man with an adorable smile, she looked at Kat to make sure it was okay with her. She just smiled and waved Christie off. She was dancing alone, and even though it usually would have made her self-conscious, tonight Kat was feeling amazing. She looked gorgeous tonight, she told herself, and even if it was just the Jack making her feel like she could dance, she really didn't care. She didn't care what anyone here thought. She was beautiful. The song changed, but Kat didn't even notice. She kept dancing, hands over her head, eyes closed, just feeling the pulse of the music running through her. When a pair of big hands slid over her waist and her ass settled back into the curve of a man's hips, she kept her eyes closed. It didn't matter who he was, he could dance, and all she wanted right then was someone who wouldn't fuck up her rhythm. They danced like that – her back to his front – for what seemed like an eternity, though it couldn't have been more than a song or two. Katerina could feel everything, every note, every drumbeat. Her partner, whoever he was, felt like a part of her. Their movements were perfect together, liquid and smooth. His hands slipped down to her hips, but didn't venture any farther. She could feel his chest behind her back, behind her head even if she leaned back. He was much taller than she, but somehow their movements were synched beautifully. Suddenly, so smoothly that it took Katerina a moment or two to even notice, he stepped back a few inches and spun her around with his hands on her hips. He stepped forward again, placing his left leg between her thighs and pulling her close again. She still didn't look at his face, leaning her forehead close to his chest and closing her eyes to concentrate on the music once more. His hands slipped up across her back, distracting her for a moment as she tried to find somewhere for her own arms to go. She slid them up his chest and settled her hands on his shoulders, finally finding a comfortable position for their dance to continue. They kept dancing, but it was harder for her to lose herself in the music now that she was facing him. Her breasts kept brushing against his chest, and his leg between hers was driving her to distraction. Their rhythm wasn't suffering yet, but Katerina knew she couldn't keep this up for long. She sighed inwardly and began to pull away from him. His hands on her back stopped her when she was a few inches away. She looked up at him then, and for a moment Kat was utterly lost. His eyes were looking at her questioningly, wondering why she was trying to leave, and they peered out of a face that Kat could only describe as beautiful. Chocolate brown eyes, a rugged-looking nose, full lips set above a strong jaw. His hair was a wonderful sandy blond, and badly needed cut, although she had to admit that the curls around his ears and nape were deliciously sexy. When she finally looked back at his eyes, they sparkled with amusement. Was he seriously laughing at her? Katerina couldn't help but smile; he had caught her look of surprise when she had finally looked at his face. But still, she thought, she couldn't keep dancing with him. She was getting way too turned on, and now that she knew what he looked like, she would be dripping through her thong in no time. If only she were still fucking wearing her jeans, she thought wryly. Although...if she was going to get turned on anyway... Katerina stepped back out of the circle of his arms, but she caught his hand in hers. She slowly backed away, and when she was sure he was following willingly, she dropped his hand and led him to the back room of the club. She stepped through the doorway into what was technically the VIP area. She may not have officially been a VIP, but she and Christie had been coming to the Bunkhouse every week – often two or three times a week – since it had opened two years ago. They knew every bouncer and every tender by name, and they all let the two girls do pretty much anything they pleased. And why not? They were beautiful and they always paid their tab. As she stepped into the somewhat darker back room, she turned to be sure that the man was still following her. He definitely was, and he definitely had to raise his eyes when she turned around. Kat raised one of her eyebrows at him, and he shot her a guilty grin, confirming her suspicion that he had been staring at her ass the entire way there. She couldn't help returning his smile. She held out her hand to him and he looked at it for a moment before grasping it with his own. She moved backward across the nearly-empty room until her back was pressed up against the wall. She dropped the man's hand and moved her hands to his hips, gently pulling him towards her. She looked at the front of his shirt as he stepped close to her. Only when she could feel his hips barely resting against her own did she turn her face up to his. Mustering the most seductive face she could manage, she looked into his brown eyes. He looked at her with a question on his face and for a split second, Katerina panicked. He didn't want her, she'd just made an absolute fool of herself, oh my God, he was going to laugh at her—but then his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her and she couldn't think, she couldn't think of anything but that kiss. He wasn't gentle and he didn't wait to see how she would respond. His mouth covered hers, his tongue probing at the crease between her lips. His hands were instantly in her hair, holding her still, bringing her face closer to his own. His hips moved forward, pressing her back firmly against the wall. And even though she hadn't expected him to be so forward, Katerina put up no resistance to his kiss. How could she? She wanted him; she had wanted him before she'd even seen his face. And so when his tongue tried to gain entry to her mouth, she instantly granted it. Her lips opened and his tongue was in her mouth, exploring, swirling with her own, teasing her. Good God, the man could kiss. He sucked her own tongue into his mouth, tangling with her until she was lost. He kissed her with an odd combination of force and finesse, showing her his passion and setting her on fire without ever hurting her. His hands slid down to her sides, his thumbs gently teasing along her ribcage just below her breasts. Her right leg came up involuntarily to widen her stance as her hands swept around to his back and pulled him tighter into her hips. She wrapped her leg wantonly around his body, grinding herself against him. She could feel his arousal through his blue jeans, and only when she slipped her hand between their bodies to gently rub it did he break their kiss. "Oh Jesus," he gasped against her lips, "Don't, please don't." "Don't what?" she panted, with an innocent look. Kat stroked his length slowly as he closed his eyes and groaned. "We can't do this here," he said. Kat looked around, about to argue with him. She realized he was right. It was dark in the back room, but it wasn't that dark. Besides which, they were far from alone. There were several other couples scattered throughout the room, some dancing, some kissing, some sitting and chatting. None of them looked to be anywhere near as hot and heavy as Kat and this man had been only moments before. The thing was, though, she wanted him. Maybe it was the whiskey, maybe it was the dress she was wearing, maybe it was the fantasy she kept entertaining about her boss...it didn't really matter what the reason was, but she needed to get laid, and she wanted this man to do the job. Tonight. "So take me home with you," she said, leaning in for another kiss. He captured her lips briefly before releasing her and shaking his head. "I can't," he said, "I want to, I really fucking want to, but I can't." "You can. I promise, you can." "You're beautiful, sweetheart, but you're drunk. You don't want to go home with a strange man in a big city." "I'm not drunk," Kat lied. He only smiled and leaned in to kiss her once more. She eagerly accepted, giving him her tongue when he indicated he wanted it. The kiss was too brief yet again, and she pouted when he pulled away. He laughed gently and said, "Jack Daniels. You taste like Jack Daniels." That was it. Now he was mocking her. He didn't want to sleep with her, and maybe that was okay, but he didn't need to be an asshole about it. Katerina pushed him away and straightened her spine. "Fine," she said, "I guess I'll see you around." And with that, she brushed past him and walked back toward the bar. He made a grab for her hand, but she shook him off and continued out of the VIP room with her head held high. She could hear his rumbling laughter over her shoulder, but she didn't turn around.