As the owner of one of the most prestigious modeling agencies in Paris, I've enjoyed the pleasure of working with some of the world's most beautiful women. Because models tend to be free-spirited, adventurous and open about their sexuality, I have been able to sample some of the finest lovemaking on the Continent. In fact, I have made love at least once with every woman in our agency – every woman, that is, except for my very conservative, straight-laced secretary. Nina, a young-looking 35 from the south of France with olive skin and jet-black eyes, has large, rounded breasts; a nice plump behind, and long, shapely legs. Unfortunately for a connoisseur of female beauty like me, she insists on covering up her delectable body with big, baggy jackets, blouses that button all the way up to her collar bone and skirts that fall well below her knee. Nina wears her long, brown hair combed back into a tight bun, and her heavy, black-framed glasses hide most of her lovely face.
To be honest, I had always fantasized about seducing Nina, but her forbidding, all-business demeanor warned me not even to try. That's why, one day, when I called Nina into my office to take dictation, I was surprised to see her wearing a short, black miniskirt with her white silk blouse. When I commented on her outfit, she sheepishly explained that she had accidentally sat down on a wet chair in the employee cafeteria and had borrowed a skirt from a photo shoot taking place down the hall as a substitute. I told Nina that I thought she looked very nice in that skirt, and her face turned crimson as she fiddled with her notebook and stared at the floor.
Getting back to business, I motioned Nina to take a seat on the chair next to my desk and began to dictate a letter. As Nina's short skirt rode slowly up her luscious thighs, I could not help noticing that she was wearing sheer black stockings held in place by an old-fashioned garter belt. I also noticed that Nina kept crossing and uncrossing her legs as she wrote. Perhaps my very conservative secretary was not so conservative after all.
»»After I had finished dictating the letter, I asked Nina to type it up and bring it back to my office for me to review. Ordinarily, Nina is an excellent proofreader who always catches my typos and grammatical mistakes, but this time there were several glaring errors that practically leaped off the page. I buzzed the intercom and asked Nina to come into my office immediately so that I could show her where she needed to make corrections. She stood at my desk awkwardly and the room was silent except for the tapping of my pen on the desk. "Nina, you should know better than that" I reprimanded. She stood in silent embarrassment as I began pointing out her mistakes.
There was something about Nina's shame that excited me more than her peerless perfection ever had. Stealing another glimpse at her gartered thighs, I decided to try a playful, little experiment to see what she would do. I "accidentally" dropped my pencil on the floor and asked Nina if she would do me a favor and pick it up. As Nina bent over to retrieve the implement, her short skirt hiked up in back, giving me a tantalizing glimpse of her plump behind – naked except for a red silk thong.
I am too much of a gentleman to reveal what happened during the rest of that fateful afternoon, but I will say that, after my encounter with Nina, the anorexic models who worked at my agency no longer enflamed my passions. Under my tutelage, Nina not only discovered her true beauty as a full-figured woman but also became the top model for one of my biggest clients, Hips and Curves.com – a true business expense if there ever was one!
Several months after our affair began, Nina was transferred to Los Angeles and, reluctantly, we bid each other a tearful goodbye. After a night of drowning my sorrows in a bottle of cognac, I woke up the next day a new man: Nina might be gone, but I as a red-blooded Frenchman, must admit I'd gladly trade a dozen super models for one night with my former secretary. The delights of her curvy flesh have transformed my appetites forever!
By Cassandra Casanova
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