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I wouldn't embarrass you by callingyou my 'secretary'. If I were to hire you, your title would be`Personal Assistant', and I would get someone from Word Processing todo the clerical work. I'm inclined to give you the job for your senseof humor, if not your superior qualifications, but the fact is, you areover-qualified. I'm worried you will only stay until you can findsomething better, then leave me in the lurch."I had to admit; that thought had crossed my mind. Title or no, I coulddo a lot more than be a glorified secretary. But I liked this womanimmensely. Yes, I was talking with my head, not my crotch, and I hadheard horror stories about how cold and impersonal large corporationscould be. Besides I really needed a job."Most of my friends will never meet a CEO, let alone work closely withone. The chance to help make strategic plans that shape a company'sfuture is an opportunity that happens once in a lifetime. I can't passthis up," I said carefully.It wasn't really a lie. I did. She was preparing coffee naked. She was just wearing her mangalsutra and her pointed high heels. My friends got an erection seeing her. We saw the guy coming out of her room and hugged her from behind.She was mixing the sugar. He rubbed his dick on her ass and made her give a blowjob in the kitchen. My friends were already rubbing their dicks over their pants. To be honest, she was looking like an international model because of her physique and young face.He lifted her and started to fuck her by holding her in his hips. Mom was constantly moaning in different tones according to his thrusts. Mom said, “My son is sleeping upstairs he could hear us. Don’t be rough and make me moan loud.” He didn’t care about those words.He made her lean on the kitchen slab and started to fuck her from behind in doggy style by grabbing her hair. She started to scream and moan simultaneously. He closed her mouth with his hands and started to pound her harder. He was riding her like a maniac who is fucking.
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I’m impressed.” She glanced over at me and that damned almost-smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Ah, we’re here.” ‘Here’ was a three-story turn-of-the-century brownstone on a corner in one of the ‘gentrified’ areas of the city. I hadn’t really been paying attention to the scenery so if you’d asked me exactly where we were I’d be hard pressed to tell you. She parked on the street and we hurried inside out of the pouring rain. She pointed to a coat rack and gestured at my wet rain slicker. “Let me show you to your room and you can shower and get some sleep. I’m sure you’re tired after such a long day. I’ll be downstairs in my office. I have to wade through interview questionnaires and figure out some way to represent the data. We can go over your plans and thoughts in the morning over breakfast.” I knew a dismissal when I heard one so I followed her up the stairs to the third floor. It was one gigantic room sectioned off by bookcases, tables and furniture into a bedroom, sitting.

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