I Always Wanted To Tell A Woman To Sit On The...

This gave me an opportunity to see Michael properly for the first time. He was in his late forties, a slight belly under his plain white shirt with a once expensive suit beginning to look a touch shapeless. His hair was close cropped, possibly in an attempt to hide his thinning scalp. He was a man who looked like thousands of others in London. We made small talk and discussed the role and various other interview type questions. As we came to finish up he asked the usual finisher. "Do you have any questions for me?" "I do actually. Why would you want a girl like me? This job seems pretty standard PA type stuff and there are plenty of people who would be better suited." He seemed somewhat uncomfortable at the question. "From the looks of things I'd say you don't even need an assistant here." He started to blush a little. "I.... Erm... " he stammered." I need a manager. Someone to... Erm... Be in charge of things. Some to organise me... Someone to... Tell me what to do... " That last. He knelt before and gently caressed my hand with his soft fingers and kissed it. His lips felt so good against my hand, which had never been kissed before. I saw the passion in his eyes as his mouth traveled up my arm slowly, taking every inch of my soft skin into his lips. I wanted him, I needed his taste on my lips. My hand softly came against his cheek and I guided his face to my lips. We eagerly met and pressed against each other. I turned awkwardly in the chair as our juices exchanged lips. We both laughed with our lips locked together in a fiery exchange until we broke a minute later. ‘Come,’ I said, making up my mind. I took him by the hand, holding the tips of his fingers with mine in their own tender embrace. Here I was, a 4 foot 8, 120 pound girl dragging a 6 foot, 180 pound man behind me, begging for him to take me. It seemed like something from a kinky version of A Midsummer’s Night Dream. ‘Wait.’ He was hesitant, maybe not ready? ‘Are you sure you want this?’ I knew he.
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