I spent most of that morning trying on different outfits. I wanted to impress, and I wanted to look sexy. I knew I was attractive, and I had been my entire life. I had used it in high school to get what I wanted from teachers and male students alike, and it had worked on my college professors too. I knew it would work at my new job. I wasn’t willing to sleep my way to the top, of course, but a woman should use anything she could in her bag of tricks. Advertising was dominated by men, and I wanted to dominate. If my boss, whoever that ended up being, wanted to fuck me, then that was just something I could use to my advantage.
I ended up in a short skirt—not out to the club short, but above the knee short. I pulled on some stockings, and sitting on the bed and crossing my legs, I found that with just a small hitch of the skirt, you could see the top of my stockings. I loved hosiery, and thigh highs were my favorite. That was true of most of the men I knew too. Pantyhose was always sexy, but stockings, those were fucking hot.
My blouse was tight and low cut, not in a trashy way, but enough to show off my ample cleavage. A pair of black pumps finished the package. I did my makeup and was out the door.
I arrived ten minutes early and found a woman waiting for me when I got off the elevator. I had been told to report to the fifteenth floor of the high-rise building. My stepfather’s company owned the building, but there were other companies that rented space out as well. A whole floor had been empty, and it had been given over to the new project, the in-house ad team.
The woman waiting for me, and others, was ten years older than I was, with fiery red hair that fell to her mid back. She was cute, tall, and angular, with a sharp chin and nose, and her eyes were the green of the ocean when the sun hit the water just right, shifting it from blue.
“Hi. I’m Carolyn,” the woman said, and I shook her hand. “Come on back,” she added, and turned. I followed her to a conference room with glass walls. We stepped inside, and two others were sitting there: a short Asian man around my age who introduced himself as Colin when I shook his hand, and an older guy with a beard who smiled and waved to me across the table.
“I’m Mark,” he said, and I would have guessed he was going to be my boss, but then the red-headed lady left, I sat down, and no one spoke. It occurred to me we were all just ad grunts, waiting for the boss.
Before I found out who was in charge, Carolyn brought back one more grunt, a tall man with a bit of a gut on him who turned out to be named Chris. Carolyn then asked us if we needed anything, a water or something, and we all declined. I could tell that everyone was nervous.
I knew the next two people who came in. They entered together. Tyler was typing something on his phone, his head down. Brad smiled at us all and sat at one end of the table. Tyler sat at the other and set his phone down. Brad started.
“We don’t know shit about advertising,” he said with a soft smile, “but we know about business. You four are here to guide us with the ads, to guide this whole company into a new era. We’re here to handle the rest. I’m Brad, and that’s my brother, Tyler.
Carolyn entered and handed Tyler a manila folder. He thanked her and took it.
“We thought we should just jump right in,” he said, opening the folder and passing around a sheet of paper to each of us. It was just an image of a vacuum cleaner.
“This is our new vacuum. We need an ad for it, something for print, to run in Good Housekeeping and Martha Stewart’s magazine.”
And then we got to work.
3
The first month passed in a haze. We worked long hours, all six of us. The four ad grunts were there the most, but Tyler and Brad turned out to be surprisingly hands on. They seemed interested in our work, but they didn’t step on our toes. And if either one of them recognized me, or were aware my mother had just married their father, they didn’t say anything.
It was a Friday night and I had stayed late. I thought everyone else had gone. We’d been pretty set on an ad, but I had thought I could find a better font for it. I searched and searched. Finally, I glanced at the clock on the front of my phone and realized it was almost nine at night. I had skipped lunch that day, and my stomach was growling painfully.
I had an office there, another glass-walled room. All of the grunts had similar offices. Brad and Tyler each had their own, and the walls weren’t glass. I was stepping past Tyler’s office when I heard a moan of pleasure. It was unmistakable. I knew what it was as soon as I heard it. It had been made by a woman, the moan breathy and filled with ecstasy. I knew I should keep going, but I paused. I peeked through the door, which was open just a crack.
Carolyn was there, bent over Tyler’s desk. She held herself up with her hands. I saw her perky breasts, her nipples hard and pointed. Tyler was behind her, his hands on her hips, her skirt pulled up over her ass. He had shoved her panties to the side, just pulling the thin material out of the way of her pussy instead of taking it off. Her red hair was over her face, the fingers of one hand curled as she gripped a random piece of paper.