wasn't that kind of woman. She had to admit it. She was an executive assistant, not a member of the rich and famous club. She was a little too heavy for her own liking and forced to wear boxy business suits, which made her already generous bosom look like it could launch a fleet of carriers. She also had a few pants outfits with long over blouses that looked good in the catalogue, but failed miserably on short women with hips that rivaled the width of the Grand Canyon.
But, it never hurt to dream, right?
So every day she worked alongside Scrooge, er, Clayton Johnson, Liza wished she was someone else.
That thought made her grin. She needed to be more like Satin Pleasure, queen of erotic romance. Oh, wouldn't that be a sight to send Clayton's neat, little world into a wild tailspin?
"Ms. Montgomery?"
Liza shook her head and realized Johnson was staring at her as if she had grown another eye. "I'm sorry. Did you want something else?"
"Yes, Ms. Montgomery, I did. If you truly feel well today, please bring your keypad and come into my office. I have some memos I want to dictate."
He turned and strode into his office. Liza had the irrational urge to imitate his walk while sitting at her desk and sticking out her tongue at him. Of course, Liza wouldn't dare do that. Now, Satin would. Heck, Satin would have followed Clayton Johnson and offered to do something wild like spreading peanut butter all over his delectable body and licking it off. The picture that popped into Liza's head at that thought was highly erotic. Yum. Peanut butter. With just a smidgen of jelly. Grape, she decided. Nah, he'd never go for that. But how about hot fudge?
Satin had written about the amazing uses for hot fudge in her last story, "Afternoon Delights." That was the one which had won the coveted Passion Prose award from a famous magazine. It had also been nominated for the prestigious Seraphina award from the Erotic Romance Writers Association.
The words Satin had used popped immediately into Liza's mind.
The man was naked except for the dollop of hot fudge covering the tip of his erect cock.
"Oooh, there's nothing better than a sundae," the woman purred.
"I agree," the corporate pirate said. "As long as you're the cherry on top."
"Oh, I think you'll find my cherry just to your liking," the woman said before kneeling in front of him and wrapping her mouth around him.
Liza immediately got a picture of Clayton wearing nothing but his tie and a generous dollop of hot fudge. She sighed. There was no chance it would ever happen. He saw her as his efficient and slightly dumpy employee. That's all.
Eliza straightened her spine and reached in the drawer for her keypad. She had to stop thinking about herself like that. So, she wasn't a size five. She actually had cleavage and curves. She had to start thinking like Satin would.
Satin would not think of herself as dumpy. Satin was full-figured. Satin was a Rubenesque babe that real men could hold on to. That was how Liza would think of herself from now on. It was her New Year's resolution. She was going to grab all the gusto in life she could.
Feeling her spine straighten and her shoulders pull back with resolve, Liza grabbed up her keyboard and headed into Clayton's office.
Memos. How silly was that? He runs an electronics firm, she thought. Yet he can't even type his own memos.
Not that she minded getting all the latest gadgets like this nifty little keyboard.
It worked like a laptop but weighed only half a pound and came with infrared technology so she could send all her typing directly into their mainframe. It also had a recorder with voice recognition software so she hardly had to type. This same technology was why it was so silly Johnson refused to do his own memos and letters.
And sometimes gadgets just weren't enough to keep a girl happy. At least not this type of gadget. There had been a gadget Satin once wrote about in "Toys for Her," one of Liza's personal favorite short stories.
But, it never hurt to dream, right?
So every day she worked alongside Scrooge, er, Clayton Johnson, Liza wished she was someone else.
That thought made her grin. She needed to be more like Satin Pleasure, queen of erotic romance. Oh, wouldn't that be a sight to send Clayton's neat, little world into a wild tailspin?
"Ms. Montgomery?"
Liza shook her head and realized Johnson was staring at her as if she had grown another eye. "I'm sorry. Did you want something else?"
"Yes, Ms. Montgomery, I did. If you truly feel well today, please bring your keypad and come into my office. I have some memos I want to dictate."
He turned and strode into his office. Liza had the irrational urge to imitate his walk while sitting at her desk and sticking out her tongue at him. Of course, Liza wouldn't dare do that. Now, Satin would. Heck, Satin would have followed Clayton Johnson and offered to do something wild like spreading peanut butter all over his delectable body and licking it off. The picture that popped into Liza's head at that thought was highly erotic. Yum. Peanut butter. With just a smidgen of jelly. Grape, she decided. Nah, he'd never go for that. But how about hot fudge?
Satin had written about the amazing uses for hot fudge in her last story, "Afternoon Delights." That was the one which had won the coveted Passion Prose award from a famous magazine. It had also been nominated for the prestigious Seraphina award from the Erotic Romance Writers Association.
The words Satin had used popped immediately into Liza's mind.
The man was naked except for the dollop of hot fudge covering the tip of his erect cock.
"Oooh, there's nothing better than a sundae," the woman purred.
"I agree," the corporate pirate said. "As long as you're the cherry on top."
"Oh, I think you'll find my cherry just to your liking," the woman said before kneeling in front of him and wrapping her mouth around him.
Liza immediately got a picture of Clayton wearing nothing but his tie and a generous dollop of hot fudge. She sighed. There was no chance it would ever happen. He saw her as his efficient and slightly dumpy employee. That's all.
Eliza straightened her spine and reached in the drawer for her keypad. She had to stop thinking about herself like that. So, she wasn't a size five. She actually had cleavage and curves. She had to start thinking like Satin would.
Satin would not think of herself as dumpy. Satin was full-figured. Satin was a Rubenesque babe that real men could hold on to. That was how Liza would think of herself from now on. It was her New Year's resolution. She was going to grab all the gusto in life she could.
Feeling her spine straighten and her shoulders pull back with resolve, Liza grabbed up her keyboard and headed into Clayton's office.
Memos. How silly was that? He runs an electronics firm, she thought. Yet he can't even type his own memos.
Not that she minded getting all the latest gadgets like this nifty little keyboard.
It worked like a laptop but weighed only half a pound and came with infrared technology so she could send all her typing directly into their mainframe. It also had a recorder with voice recognition software so she hardly had to type. This same technology was why it was so silly Johnson refused to do his own memos and letters.
And sometimes gadgets just weren't enough to keep a girl happy. At least not this type of gadget. There had been a gadget Satin once wrote about in "Toys for Her," one of Liza's personal favorite short stories.
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