Chapter One

 

It was just so ridiculously easy...

All Kristin had to do was wait until Shauna went to the bathroom - a reasonably predictable event, and then saunter over to her desk, sit down, scroll back along the contract template she'd been working on, and make a few 'minor' alterations. In less than a minute she was back at her desk, smiling inwardly, working on her own contract review.

Shauna was her major competition, after all, in terms of who might be accepted into the ranks of the firm's associates at the end of the quarter. And while one or two little mistakes in a contract wouldn't have a lot of impact, well, this was far from the first time Kristin had done this, nor would it likely be the last.

She'd also managed to purloin the odd memo or assignment from Shauna's in-basket over the last few weeks. It wouldn't do to do it often, but if she was careful - and Kristin was always careful - no one would see a pattern or get suspicious.

And it wasn't as if Kristin didn't deserve that position! She'd worked her butt off to get top marks in school and then put in an awful lot of time and effort into pleasing the partners since joining Henderson and Cooper Associates.

In more ways than one...

From the tip of her icy cold blonde hair to the point of her jet black high heeled shoes, Kristin gave every impression of cool professionalism. It was an aura she put on in the morning, a persona designed with as much care as any character in a play. Which, of course, included costume design.

Skirts - always, never pants. Her skirts were always tight, but not too tight, sleek, dark, and hemmed a few inches above the knees. Her stockings were always black, her shoes always high heels - but not too high. Her blouse was always silk or satin, very feminine, and tight across the chest, but with a mannish suit jacket over it.

She always wore a gold watch, a gold ring, and a gold chain or necklace - understated - around her neck, along with matching earrings. Her hair was a perfect golden blonde, and perfectly straight, falling just past her shoulder in back, with the sides drawn back loosely to tie in place behind her and leave her shoulders bare. No bangs - ever.

She also had a pair of frameless glasses she occasionally wore when trying to emphasize her intellectual look, though she had no need of glasses. Her fingernails were manicured, her makeup flawless, and she had even taken voice coaching in order to achieve the cool, steady soprano which would make others have confidence in her.

And, of course, she slept with anyone who could help her.

Not that actually sleeping with men was usually necessary, of course. She had flirting down to a fine art, too. And few men had proved to be immune to her charms. For those who required more serious persuasion, Kristin had also determinedly honed her sexual skills over the years, and exercised ruthlessly to keep her body toned and fit.

In her single-minded pursuit of the wealth and power she desired, there was little Kristin would not do if it would give her the edge on competition. That had included sleeping with a number of her professors at law school, both for the marks and the recommendation she needed to be selected by a top rate law firm.

She had had to be considerably more careful once here, of course. Getting a reputation for sleeping with people to get ahead could be deadly to her career. That was especially so given her looks might well lead people to suggest it even if she hadn't.

She had to be discrete, and had to demonstrate an ability which would lead few to question her promotions. So far she had managed both. Though she'd had to cheat a bit on the latter. Sleeping with very bright young lawyers who could give her a little assistance with complicated questions helped immensely there. As did the willingness to put in whatever time was required, with no concern for a private life.

Kristin had no boyfriend, nothing to distract her from her job. Maybe in ten years or so, when she'd reached partner, she'd consider someone suitable, but for now, the job was what mattered. She was only twenty four, after all. There would be plenty of time.

Besides, it wasn't like she didn't get as much sex as she wanted... and often more. And anyway, sex, for Kristin, was not about pleasure, but about power and influence. Sex was a task, a job, and she approached it in as calculated a manner as she did everything else in life, so as to impress her partner and leave him with the best possible impression of her.

She had a great fake orgasm act, understated, yet erotic. That too, she had practiced until she had it down perfectly. She even held her breath so as to make her face redden, giving the impression she was flushed with excitement. Men liked it when they thought they were studs. Especially older men.

Speaking of which...

She noted the very short, professional emailed request on whether she had finished researching the precedents in Brown v Wade, and replied that she had indeed done so. She glanced up at the clock. It was half past seven in the evening. By now, virtually all the clerical and secretarial staff had gone, along with most of the partners and associates.

She got up and locked her computer automatically, then picked up a file and moved past Shauna's little cubicle, along with those belonging to Dwight, Abel, Mark, Spencer and Dave, then out the door of what had once been a storage room and now served as the office for eight law clerks.

She walked in a brisk manner, her feet making short, quick steps, her head up, shoulders back, through the aisle. There were no straight corridors here, for the building itself was not the usual rectangle or square. It was designed to allow the maximum number of corner offices so that all the senior partners could have one.

Its outside face was roughly oval but with a zig-zag pattern of sharp edges which allowed certain rooms large windows on two sides. Junior partners and associates, of course, made do with smaller offices and smaller windows - on one wall.

The riff-raff, otherwise known as legal secretaries, law clerks, researchers and administrators, occupied whatever space in the middle could be found for them. There were only two broad, paneled corridors, and those led straight from the reception desk to one of the senior partner's offices, designed to impress the more important clients.

David Maxwell was not one of those, but he was influential enough that his support was crucial to Kristin's plan of getting into a real office as fast as possible. He was fifty two, married, with three children, one of whom was Kristin's age, and blonde.

It was mid-September in New York, and darkness had fallen since her last trip out of her cubby hole. Maxwell's secretary had gone home, of course. She made sure no one was nearby first, then tapped discretely at his door before opening it.

"I have the precedents, you asked for Mister Maxwell," she said in a professional voice kept low.

He motioned her in, and she slipped inside, closing the door behind her. The curtains were drawn against the dark, and the nearby towers, and she smiled as she backed against the door, her finger pushing in the lock.

"I have news for you, little girl," he said with a broad smile.

Kristin felt a little jolt of excitement as she strolled forward. There was nothing about Maxwell which excited her, of course. He was a middle aged man, somewhat pudgy, but not fat, with graying temples and round glasses.

His office excited her more. It was all sleek, gorgeously polished wooden cabinets and shelves which matched his gleaming desk. The floor was a deep, swirling gray and blue Persian, the sofas deep black leather. The office smelled of money, it looked like money, it glowed with money. It was the kind of office - though a bit masculine for her taste - that she wanted eventually.

"I always like surprises - daddy," she said in a breathy voice she had long-practiced.

Maxwell was a pervert, but she liked that. It made him easier to manipulate and less likely to talk to others about their ... experience.

She came around his desk, giving him a coquettish look as he turned his big leather chair towards her with a grin. She smiled and arched her back, thrusting her breasts against the thin silk of her top as she let her jacket slide off her shoulders and down her arms

Then she climbed languidly onto the chair, straddling him, letting her skirt slide up her thighs as his hands moved eagerly to her breasts, squeezing hard enough to almost make her wince. She began to grind herself against him, her hands sliding over his shoulders as his fingers unbuttoned her blouse.

"Did you miss me, daddy?" she cooed.

"Always, baby girl," he said, tugging her blouse free and groping her breasts again through her lacy black bra. He popped the catch between the cups and groaned aloud as her breasts fell into his hands, his mouth going to her nipple and sucking and chewing immediately.

Kristin smiled and ground herself against him. She'd gone to strip clubs years ago and had lap dances done for her so she could be sure she was really good at it. The strippers had thought it hilarious and had done their best to help - for a fee, of course.

Even there, though, she'd found that a little flirting and promise was like honey to those interested in her lithe young body. A lot of the strippers were lesbians, after all, or at least bisexual. The money had been so good that, intrigued, she had actually worked there for a time. The experience in flirting and persuading men to do what she wanted had been worth even more than the money.

She let her hips grind, her body undulating slowly, soft sighs escaping her lips as Maxwell's mouth chewed hungrily at her breasts and his tongue licked her like an excited dog.

"I love your tits, baby!" he groaned.

"Thank you, daddy," she said with smile.

"Fucking perfect," he growled, cupping them from beneath and lifting them up to stare at them.

"What was the surprise, daddy?" she asked.

"Oh, just a little something about a promotion," he said teasingly.

"Ooo, I like those," she purred.

Her hands slid down his chest and she fondled him through his trousers. He was already hard, and his hand went to the zipper on the side of her skirt, undoing the clasp and zipper.

She smiled and rose on her knees, letting the skirt fall, then nimbly lifted one knee, then the other, before tossing the skirt behind her. Her thong matched her bra, of course. She'd never wear lingerie that didn't. She also wore thigh high, self-supporting stockings.

She rolled her hips against him, letting him suck and lick and fondle her breasts again, as well as running his hands up and down her body. Maxwell's wife, she knew, weighed more than he did. But a man of wealth didn't have to make do with a middle aged woman he'd married, even if he did still want to stay married to her.

She smiled down at him, her ego enjoying, as it always did, how delighted and excited men became just from touching her body. It gave her a sense of power over them.

His hands slid down to knead her buttocks as he looked up at her, and she smiled, leaning in, kissing him, letting her lips melt against his as she continued to grind herself down against him. Her fingers undid his belt slowly as they kissed, then opened his trousers.

She loved the feel of the fabric. If she was any judge, and she was, his suit was worth thousands. She opened the zipper and slid her hand in, rubbing him through his boxers at first, then, leaning back with a broad smile.

"Daddy has a present for you, little girl," Maxwell said with a smirk.

"Just what I always wanted!" she exclaimed in delight, pulling his boxers open to let his cock spring up and out.

She wrapped her hand around it, but gently, sighing as she pulled it in against her belly. Then she slid her buttocks backwards along his thighs, easing her knees back in turn until she could sink to her knees in front of his chair. The look on her face was one of anticipation and delight as she undid her hair and let it spill free.

She tugged his pants and underwear down then delicately licked and kissed her way up his thighs, letting her hair spill across his bare flesh. She squeezed his shaft, raising it up and pushing it back against his stomach as he spread his legs, then licked her way up along his inner thigh until she could kiss and then suck his balls into her mouth.

She moaned around them, rolling her soft blue eyes up at him as he looked down with hungry excitement. She cupped his balls in her hands, then, making his cock stand out, and then began to lick the head as if it were an ice cream cone, again, rolling her eyes up at him as he watched.

She licked up and down the underside, then nibbled lightly at his scrotum before licking her way up to the head and pursing her lips. She pressed them against the head, sinking down slowly, letting the head 'force' them apart and slide into her mouth and along her tongue.

She hummed again, bobbing slowly up and down, going deeper with every stroke until she swallowed the head and her lips slid down to his balls. He groaned in pleasure as she held her lips locked tightly around the base, and she felt another sense of satisfaction.

Men are so easy, she thought.

She slid slowly back up, again rolling her eyes up at him as his shaft appeared, then the head.

"Such a pretty Popsicle, daddy," she purred.

"And you want it to melt in your mouth, don't you, baby girl."

"Mmm," she cooed.

"Not this time, you little minx. I want him inside your tight little belly."

Oh well, she thought. Half the time a blow job was enough, for at his age and with her skills he didn't exactly have staying power, but she didn't mind. He wouldn't last long this way either.

She smiled in delight, gave him a final lick, then slid her thumbs down to peel her thong down as she stood up. She knew she had a great body, and stood there posed before him, giving him a saucy look, which then turned into a giggle as she climbed atop him once more.

This time she took his cock and ran the head up and down the line of her sex, sighing in pleasure, then pushed it into her body and sank down with a long, low groan of pleasure.

"Ooowww," she sighed. "I love having something hard inside me."

"I bet you do, baby girl," he said, his hands kneading her buttocks.

Her knees were pressed into the leather executive chair on either side of his hips as she rode him slowly, leaning in when he wasn't sucking her breasts to kiss him. She started to hold her breath as he focused on her breasts again, squeezing her pelvic muscles down around his cock every time she rode upward.

Her skin was flushed as she started to make her breaths quicken so that he could hear them. That also had the effect of her slightly hyperventilating, which helped keep her skin flushed. She let her eyes narrow and her lips part, sighing more audibly, groaning as she sank down, moving faster now, as if excited.

She was no such thing, of course. Her mind was working like a calculating machine, carefully assessing his reaction and planning her next move. His finger found her clitoris - she was a bit surprised he knew it was there, and started rubbing her, and she gasped as if in response, arching back in a slow, delighted way.

It wouldn't do to show too much energy, too much passion. All things in moderation, after all.

"Oh! Yes! Yes! Oh! Yes, daddy!" she moaned, grinding herself against him and riding faster.

She fell forward, gasping, moaning, letting him suck and lick and chew at her nipples as she rolled her hips and rode him, then let out a series of soft, girlish little yelps before arching back more sharply with a long, low, guttural moan to signal her orgasm.