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Part: part 2
Keywords: exhib nosex
Date: July 2002
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This is a work of erotic fiction. If you are not allowed to
read such material, or if such material offends you, please stop
This is copyrighted (C) July 2002 by Altan. Permission is
granted for this to be reproduced and archived in the
context of the newsgroup(s) to which it is posted by the author.
In addition, the reader is allowed to make copies in electronic
format and on paper for his or her personal use only. For all
other uses, please consult the copyright statement in
Sinful (part 2) (exhib nosex)
Tom's life changed the day he won the Big Game. He never really
expected to win, but of course he had dreamed about it, and his
dreams had been practical. So the first thing Tom did was hire a
lawyer and an accountant.
Over night he had become a star customer of the most prestigious
accounting firm in town. Now he was coming in for his second
appointment. After discussing the contract yesterday, he was now
ready to work out his financial plans.
He went up the elevator to the fourteenth floor and entered
through the glass doors. The behind the counter recognized
"Sarah will be right here," the receptionist said. Sarah was his
account representative. He had met her the day before and she had
proved to be much more than a good accountant. He was looking
forward to getting to know her better.
Within a few moments, Sarah entered the lobby. Tom looked
appreciative as she approached him. She was a tall woman with
long legs and a taut body. She was wearing a short-sleeve white
shirt and a tight beige skirt. Although not transparent, the
shirt material was thin enough to show the outline of her firm
breasts. It was obvious that she was not wearing a bra and the
hard points of her nipples were bouncing deliciously as she
She held out her hand and welcomed him with a warm smile.
"I have reserved the conference room," she said. "That gives us
more room to work than my office."
He followed her through what seemed a maze or corridors to one of
the conference rooms at the front of the building. The view from
the fourteenth floor was breathtaking, as the office was at the
edge of the downtown business district and there were no other
tall buildings in sight.
When he turned back, a tray with refreshments had appeared and
Sarah had spread out her paperwork. Tom sat down and looked at
"Where do we start?" he asked.
She looked up and smiled.
"Let me close the door first," she said, and started to rise.
"Can we leave the door open, please?" Tom asked, "I don't like
the feeling of, you know, being locked in."
That was of course a blatant lie. It wasn't the idea of being
locked in that had crossed Tom's mind, but the thought of where
this meeting might lead and how exciting it would be if someone
would happen to see some of that.
"Unfortunately, we have a rule that doors must be closed when we
are meeting with a client," she answered. "My boss would be angry
if I would leave the door open."
Tom was about to say that it wasn't that big a deal, when he
realized that her eyes were actually begging him to make a scene.
This surprised Tom, he had never before been able to guess what a
woman wanted. He decided to gamble that his hunch was right.
After all, he didn't really have anything to loose.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but I'll have to go somewhere else then. I
just can't be in a meeting with a closed door."
She managed to look doubtful. "Well, if you insist..."
"Oh yes, I definitely insist," Tom stressed. "That door will have
to be open."
"In that case, I guess the client is king. Now, what exactly can
I do for you?"
They started discussing the financial details. While Sarah was
explaining the tax implications of winning the lottery, she
absent mindedly played with a button on her shirt. Soon, that
button sprung open and her fingers were playing with the next
After a while, Tom stretched and said, "let's take a break for a
moment." He walked over to the windows to look out.
"How far can you see from here," he asked, turning around.
Sarah had turned her chair and sat leaning back, watching him.
She had put her left foot on her right knee, exposing her pussy.
"What are you thinking," Tom asked when he saw her looking at
"Talking about money turns me on," she said, "that's why I became
an accountant. Talking about lots of money..."
"Turns you on big time," Tom finished for her.
"Well, let's get some more coffee and discuss some more money
Sarah got up and left the room to get a new pot of coffee. When
she came back, Tom saw that she hadn't closed any of the buttons
of her shirt. Her jiggling had become very visible.
He reached up and softly stroke her when she leaned over
him to pour him a fresh cup of coffee. Softly, he pinched the
hard nipples until he noticed the coffee overflowing his cup.
"Oops," she said, "I got distracted for a moment." Deftly, she
got a napkin and cleaned up the spill, then sat back down
"I wonder," he said, slowly sipping the hot coffee, "does the
dress code over here allow you to dress like this?"
"Oh no, it doesn't," Sarah answered. "I got special dispensation.
Employees handling important clients often get a note in their
personnel file relaxing certain rules. In fact, I had to sign a
statement saying that I was aware that this account would require
extraordinary duties, that I was aware I could refuse this
assignment at any time and that such refusal would not affect my
career perspectives, and so on, and so on."
"Oh." Tom thought for a moment.
"If I would ask you to take your clothes off, would you do that?"
"Would you insist?" she asked.
"If I said to my boss you had insisted, would you tell on me?"
This surprised Tom. Again, she seemed to be pleading with him.
"Well, no, I guess not," he answered hesitantly.
She got up, slowly undid the last of the buttons of her and
dropped it to the floor. Next, she opened the zipper of her skirt
and dropped that too. Then she sat down again.
Tom's mouth had fallen open and he was trying to get a grip on
himself. If this was what being rich looked like, he didn't mind
Sarah was sitting opposite him, elbows on the table, resting her
chin on her hands, waiting.
"Boy, I think I can use something stronger than coffee," he
"Whiskey?" she asked and when he nodded she got up, walked out of
the room still naked, and got back a minute later with a glass
and a bottle.
"I had to get this from the president's office," she apologized
while she filled his glass. "They don't keep any of the strong
stuff in the kitchen."
Tom took a big gulp of the golden liquid and felt the warmth
spreading inside him. His racing heart started to calm down and
he tried to concentrate on money matters. It wasn't easy, but
Sarah seemed to think being naked was the most natural thing in
the world. That helped.
They were almost done anyway. The biggest issue was taxes, or
rather, how to avoid paying too much of them. Without planning,
he would hardly get fifty million out of the jackpot advertised
at over one hundred fifty million, she explained. He had expected
taxes to hit in, but not that hard. With Sarah's help, he could
expect to keep more than 80 million. A comfortable amount.
The accounting firm would manage the investments and would
provide him with the cash and credit he would need. One of the
first things Tom wanted to do with his new wealth is buy a house,
then have it furnished and hire the staff to take care of it.
Sarah would work closely together with him to make this whole
process go smooth.
Finally, they got up and Sarah walked around the table. Tom took
her hand, then pulled her close and kissed her. She pressed her
body at his and kissed him back--eagerly.
With his free hand he fondled her warm, soft breast. He stroke
the outside, then the inside, letting his fingers draw closer and
closer circles around the nipple. The moment his fingers touched
the nipple, he felt her body shudder. He squeezed it, a little
bit at first, then harder. It felt like a small pebble, so hard
had it become. She continued to press herself close to him,
shaking with delight.
They held the embrace for minutes. From the corner of his eyes he
saw people walking by in the corridor outside, and he wondered
what they must be thinking. They probably had never seen anything
like that before in the meeting room.
Finally, they broke the embrace. They were both panting, and
Sarah was still shaking a bit.
"You will be back tomorrow then, to sign the papers?" she
whispered, looking him straight in the eyes. "Or I can come over
to your place?"
"No, here is fine," Tom answered, thinking about the people
around them. "I'll be here tomorrow morning, before I go to the
She smiled her radiant smile, then said, "Let me show you out."
Naked as she was, she walked along the cubicles and through the
corridors. There were people everywhere trying not to stare. Many
looked away or pretended to look right through them. Some of the
men could not hide a smile.
It seemed to Tom that they took a longer way back to the
elevators, but maybe his excited state that just made it seem
longer. The receptionist politely said "Goodnight, sir!" when
they passed. She nodded at them, then continued with her work as
if she had naked women parade by every day.
Finally, the elevator arrived. Sarah threw him one last smile
when he got in, then the doors closed and Tom was alone again.
He almost forgot to leave the elevator at the parking level. Once
in his car, he thought back at the meeting and wondered if it all
had been a dream. Did she really walk stark naked through the
office with him? Had there really been all the promise in that
kiss that he thought there was?
And the biggest question of them all--was she just trying to
please him to earn her bonus, or was there more to it? Or, in
other words, was she being a whore or not?
Slowly it dawned on Tom that there really wasn't any difference.
He had been taught to think of prostitution as something bad,
something wrong. But was there any difference between Sarah
taking her clothes off because she wanted his money, or because
she wanted to make the client happy, or because she wanted to
make him happy? Nobody forced her to do anything, she made her
choices because she believed them to be the right thing to do.
Was there really a difference between a prostitute, who sold the
services of her body for money, and a carpenter, who sold the
services of his hands for money, and a manager, who sold the
services of his mind for money? Why was prostitution wrong? He
really couldn't remember...
T O B E C O N T I N U E D
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