EXTRACT FOR
The Scent Of Her
(Ginny Watson)

Alison tossed her work skirt over the back of the chair beside her dressing table, the white blouse she wore daily quickly joined it, the logo on the breast pocket announcing the name of the real estate agency where she was a trainee sales person. She liked the job, she liked people, and she liked architecture. She was tall, taller than average which helped her, it was a psychological phenomena, and studies had been conducted somewhere that stated that tall people were perceived as more trust worthy. Alison needed her clients to trust her because that was half of the battle, after all, buying a house was probably the most extravagant purchase many would ever make in their entire lives... and you definitely didn't sign on the dotted line if you had doubts about the person doing the selling.

She sighed as she unclasped her bra and gently massaged the pressure lines beneath her breasts, it was new, and tight, and during the afternoon somehow both underwires had managed to shift, digging into her flesh. She had painted a smile on her face and attempted to ignore the discomfort because she had been very close to the closure she needed, and she certainly wasn't going to jeopardise a potential sale because she was being slowly stabbed in the tits! 

The couple that she had been touring along the Malaga coast were on the verge of making their decision, they weren't major clients, their budget was actually quite small and restrictive, hence Alison being assigned. In other words, if she screwed up it wouldn't be such a major loss to the company, and if she succeeded then everyone won, the company got a commission close to the value of their petty cash float, but Alison would get a nice little bonus and more importantly she gained valuable experience, and every sale added to self confidence, another vital asset for a Spanish Property sales person.

She had smiled, she had been professional, she had listened carefully to their comments gleaning ammunition. She studied the couples interactions, she noticed that the husband had a roving eye, she also noticed that the wife never failed to study every sun tanned hunk that passed them on the street. Using her quick intellect she had quickly brought the husband into her personal space, a warm smile and a glint in the eye told him that she was open to a little flirting and that had formed a type of bond between them. It was obvious that the couple had been toured by other agents, but because of her perceived openness and potential availability Alison knew she had the edge. If she showed them a property that ticked all the boxes then she would have her sale, only then would she develop an icy reticence as she moved on to fresh targets.

Sometimes she wondered if it was immoral to use her looks and body so shamelessly. Slipping out of her panties she studied her reflection in the dressing tables large mirror. What I'm doing isn't that bad she decided, after all she wasn't letting anyone touch her, she wasn't fucking anyone to get what she wanted, she was merely hinting that it wasn't an impossibility.

So actually I'm more of a liar than a slut she told herself as she ran a hand down to her shaven mound. She was getting horny again.