Chapter Five –
I peered into the shutter-blinded, glass windows of the conference room, squinting at the row of important-looking, suited gentlemen gathered around the lengthy, circular table. I shifted in my heels, the skimpy underwear I purchased riding up on my cheeks. The lacy fabric scratched against my skin. Irritated, I clicked my tongue, craning my neck to ensure that my oblivious colleagues, who were permanently nose-deep in the self-obsessed worlds that revolved around them, were doing just that. I furtively adjusted my panties through my skirt, feigning a hacking cough into my hand as Phil from HR strolled past. I clutched the clear folder of documents to my chest and opened the door to the meeting, the jittery sensation in my stomach intensifying.
My cheeks pinked, the weight of the men's perplexed, fixated stares anchoring down on me. Mr. Crawford was seated in a swiveling chair at the far end of the table, facing an attractive man in a pinstriped suit, standing in the center of the room, evidently in the midst of a presentation. I flashed them a wavering, rueful smile.
“So sorry for bursting in here, gentlemen – Mr. Crawford, I've got some documents from Shannon that need your signatures right away.”
Mr. Crawford lifted an eyebrow, his slight confusion apparent through his slightly parted lips. He nodded, quietly gesturing for me to enter. I scuttled towards Mr. Crawford, the man in front resuming with his presentation, jabbing his pointer stick at the projections on the wall.
I removed a stack of papers from the folder and placed it in his hands. His eyes widened, bewildered at the blank papers I had slyly inserted in his fingers. I regarded the inattentive presiders of the meeting, their lines of vision preoccupied with the redundant drivel spewing out of the presenter's mouth.
I wet my lips, lowering my eyes as my fingers loosened their grip. The remaining papers slipped out of my grasp, the floating papers fanning askew on the carpet. I smacked my forehead, crouching down to my knees in my inappropriately short pencil skirt.
“Sorry, guys – I can be so clumsy sometimes,” I flashed them a thumbs-up, “Carry on.”
I glimpsed back behind my shoulder, angling my hips upwards. A cool breeze tickled against the curves of my cheeks, faintly peeking out from the hem of my hip-hugging skirt. Mr. Crawford struggled to keep his eyes forward, casting fleeting, yearning glances in my direction. My chest swelled, relishing in the wake of his stirring lust. The slit between my panties pulsed, moistening with my warm secretions.
I gathered the papers and seated myself on a chair pushed up against the wall, feigning a bout of note-taking as I retrieved a pen clipped onto my chest pocket. I could barely suppress the smile on my lips, my cheeks glowing at Mr. Crawford's continuous glimpses. Nearly choking on my own spit, I gasped, his hand slipping under the table, out of view, stroking the mounting prominence on the crotch of his dress pants.
I gingerly flicked open the top buttons of my blouse, a small smile playing on my lips. A jolt of excitement fizzed through my body, watching him squirm from four feet away. He wiped away a dribble of sweat running down his left temple, his eyes focusing on the teasing shadow of my naturally plump cleavage.
“Mr. Crawford? What are your views on the fall line-up?”
Mr. Crawford tugged at the knot of his tie, clearing his throat audibly. He turned back to his peers, the corners of his tight-lipped mouth twitching. The creases on his forehead deepened as he reclined in his chair, prodding at his temples with his fingers.
“Sorry, fellas. I'm feeling a bit under the weather today – must be the bad shrimp I had last night. I apologize profusely but I'm afraid I'm gonna have to postpone the meeting – Friday, perhaps.”
The presenter nodded, his face falling, “Of course. Thank you for your time, Mr. Crawford – we look forward to seeing you again on Friday.”
I stood from my chair, flattening the rumples of my skirt as the men filed out of the conference room. Mr. Crawford cocked his head to the side, smirking as I sauntered towards him. He seized my wrist, slowly wringing it to an unnatural angle.
“You're a naughty little distraction, aren't you?” Mr. Crawford hissed into my ear, tightening his grasp as I squealed, “You like acting like a little whore when I'm in the middle of business?”
“I'm – I'm sorry,” I gasped, his grip loosening around my wrist, “I won't – it won't happen again –”
Mr. Crawford snickered, his dark laughter filling me with an inexplicable sense of wonder and terror.
“I didn't say I didn't enjoy it. Now go to my office and wait for me. That's a fucking order.”