A Career Choice: Part One

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Rating: 9.0/10 (1 vote cast)

Cassie Cassie checked her make-up in the small hand mirror one last time and tugged at the short red shirt of the suit she wore, trying to pull it down to a more conservative level. She wasn't sure why she'd decided scarlet was a suitable colour for an interview suit--the skirt was far shorter than she remembered--but she loved the way it went with her long black hair and molten chocolate eyes. Only today the hair was pulled back in a French pleat and the eyes hidden behind small black-framed glasses. She touched up the silvery pale lip frosting and slipped off her driving shoes; exchanging them for the office-smart black shoes with high spike heals that boosted her height to something respectable. She hated being short and took every opportunity to trade small and curvy for tall and svelte. Stepping out of the car--a long low convertible that matched the colour of her suit--she ran her hands over the fluid line of her hips and flat expanse of stomach to smooth down the her clothing. With a deep breath and a steeling of the nerves she walked up to the office building. Once inside the cool of the air-conditioning pickled at her bare legs in high contrast to the heat of the outdoors. As she sat in the chair to wait to be called she rubbed them absent-mindedly, feeling smooth skin slide under her soft hands. She stopped abruptly with the feeling that someone was watching her. She looked up and felt her face flush at the sight of a tall, lean man, older than her by at least fifteen years but still attractive with a full head of thick black hair and a lazy, easy going, smile. "Cassandra Simpson?" he asked, his gaze running over her body as she stood, "follow me." He motioned her to walk in front of him, even though she wasn't sure where she was going, and she could feel him watching her ass as she walked down the long corridor. She tried not to blush but couldn't help herself and she was horrified at the tingling sensations she began to feel in her pussy. She bit down on her bottom lip and begged for the walk to end and that she wouldn't be alone in the interview with this man. "This is work, not play," she told herself firmly. They reached the end of the corridor and the man showed her through the open door to a large brightly-lit office. Two other men sat at the broad meeting table and she breathed a slight sigh of relief. The men rose to greet her and she began to pull out a chair to sit down but a gentle touch on her elbow steered her towards the other end of the office where a long-suede couch faced a single hard backed chair in the centre of the room. The man guided her to the chair and asked her to sit with a smile before taking up position in the centre of the couch. The other two men flanked him on either side and Cassie became acutely aware that the skirt rode up past her mid thigh when she sat. The low seat of the chair and her high heels combined to lift Cassie's legs up as she sat and she realised that all of these men could probably see right up her skirt. She gave the hem a discrete tug and smiled, trying to figure out where to put her legs to preserve her modesty. "So, Miss Simpson," one of the men began; he was broad shouldered and sandy hair with clear blue eyes that seemed to bore into the back of Cassie's head. She realised that she didn't know any of their names, "Thank you for coming in to see us again." "That's no problem, Mr