Alana Takes One for the Team

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A spurned wife pulls herself up by the bra-straps.
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Nick Hill
Nick Hill
18 Followers

One morning, for reasons unknown, and unexplained to this day, my husband just cut me off financially, emotionally and sexually. He did it with no fanfare and delivered the message as if he were reading the phone book aloud. I asked him why? Was there trouble at his job? Was he ill? Was there something with his family? He said that he had just had enough and no longer wanted any part of me. I asked him if there was another woman and he again said no.

I was confused and angry. He further said that there would be no divorce; that he wasn't going to give up half of his money to any woman. We would just go on living in the same house and speaking to each other as little as possible. He was always a serious man but he recently had grown more sullen. My guess was that he was sinking into a deep depression but we'll never know since the men in his family would never be caught dead in a therapist's office.

In that instant I did a quick assessment and realized I didn't have the money to pay for a divorce. I could just leave him but there was no way that I was walking away from my kids. So I put on my big girl panties and decided that I would get myself into a better position and take action when I could. I figured the one thing I had was time since my husband was so arrogant he would never expect me to take a stand.

Still, I tried to break through to him since, for all intents and purposes, he had been a decent husband. I also thought about our children who deserved to have an engaged father in their lives. But, at the moment, I had a larger problem. Although my husband was still handling the major household bills, I no longer received any money from him to run the house. When I confronted him about it his response was that I had taken enough time off raising the kids and it was about time that I started contributing.

So as we lived like two ships passing in the night I started my job hunt. I also spent a good bit of time in the gym. I had been a casual attendee but now, with my future at stake, I was determined to gain every advantage over my competition. Plus, I figured that it would only be a matter of time before my husband took this perk from me as well so I might as well make use of it.

In the weeks which followed I managed to get a handful of interviews and lose ten pounds. I also noticed the affect that the hundreds of lunges were having on my butt. Most days I could not sit down without cringing, but new firmness and roundness were becoming evident. My tummy was much tighter too. I had not had this flat a belly since before my first pregnancy. I began to joke with myself that if the job market didn't open up soon I could always find work as a stripper.

On a daily basis I dug through every job board I could find and applied for any job that I had the remotest match to my skills. I submitted more than a hundred applications and got a few more phone interviews that went nowhere primarily because I had not worked in so long. Plus, I had limited experience. After college, and during the first years of my marriage, I worked as a court clerk in the county courthouse. That is also where I met my husband who was a public defender. I fought through the rejection and just kept applying. That stripper thing was getting closer to reality.

Then I got my break. One of the employers that I interviewed with on the phone called me back for a second meeting, this time in person. I was surprised that the position I was called back for was as the administrative assistant for a sales team in a small import/export company. I had applied there on a whim even though I never worked in the commercial sector. Still, I wanted to make a good impression, although I wasn't sure that I could handle the job.

I met first with Gloria, a saleswoman, who had been with the company since its beginning. It was apparent that her role was to break the ice with me. She came across as a hard worker but it also appeared that she worked hard to be one of the boys. She seemed impressed with my background, as scant as it was, and wasn't too hard on me for being out of the workforce for so long. She was clearly and advocate of women in the workplace and offered a lot of good advice.

My second meeting was with Chris, the vice president of sales. We had an immediate chemistry. An hour interview went by in what seemed like ten minutes. We talked in depth about the expectations of the job and how I saw myself filling those duties. I don't know where I found the fearlessness, but my confident answers flowed like water. When we were done Chris stood, shook my hand and said that he would meet with Gloria and be back in touch. Three days later I got a call from the Human Resources office asking me to come in again. I had already worn my best business outfit so I went out and bought a navy blue business suit that fit me perfectly. I accessorized with a crisp, white blouse and a colorful scarf. I had to put it on a credit card but I figured if I was going to fail I would look good doing it.

I sat down with Chris and Gloria and they went over my duties in great detail. I was surprised with the parallels I was finding with my court clerk days, so I became very comfortable that I could do the job. They both complimented me on my professionalism and the way I carried myself. They both made it clear that the international aspect of the business meant that this would not be a 9 to 5 position. I let them know that my children were grown and independent so that would not be an issue. Their offer was more than I anticipated so I had to bite my lip not to jump at it. Still, I could not see sleeping on it, so after a few more minutes of questions and conversation I graciously accepted the offer.

I reported to work the following Monday and, after the typical HR indoctrination, I got into my new job. I caught on pretty quickly and everyone was pleased with my work. Helping my kids with their homework had kept me relatively current with technology so I was immediately productive. And, as it turned out, the hours weren't all that bad either although most nights I was in the office until 7. It was a fun place to work, and everyone was friendly, so it was an easy transition

As time went on it became apparent that Gloria spent most of her time in the field visiting customers and prospects. The other salespeople were located around the country so most of my interaction with them was via phone and email, seeing them only if there were a sales meeting in the home office. Rounding out the company, there was an inside sales team and about a dozen or so support employees in the office. Chris was the only one I interacted with on a regular basis, but even he spent a good bit of time traveling. When he was in the office, though, we had a powerful symbiosis. It seemed as if I could anticipate his every request and our productivity was unparalleled.

One day Chris informed me of a special project. He was to put together a new sales campaign to for a key customer that centered on a major expansion in the business that we did with them. The idea had germinated rather quickly and could result in a new contract that would be a major revenue source as well as raising the profile of our little company. There were only a few short weeks to pull things together before a presentation was to be made to their CEO. We got started immediately as there was a ton of research to do and collateral to create. The project quickly degenerated to work days that started before dawn and ended well after midnight.

Chris and I camped out in his office and we frequently found ourselves in close proximity. One evening as he leaned over my shoulder to read what was on my screen I could feel his breath on my neck and the warmth of his body on my back and I was suddenly reminded just how long it was since I had been with a man. Late into another night he massaged my shoulders and it felt so good to have someone touch me that I almost let out a moan. I went home that night and masturbated myself to a ferocious orgasm. And I did it again the next night and every night following imagining Chris ravaging me over and over. The more time that we spent together the stronger my feelings for Chris became.

The day of the presentation finally arrived and Len, the CEO of the company that we were presenting to, was due at the office. I arrived at work to find a festively wrapped gift bag from an exclusive lingerie shop at my desk. I felt myself blush as I untied the ribbons and peeked inside. There was a note inside the bag along with a pair of stockings and a garter belt. I pulled out the note and quickly stuffed the bag in my desk. I turned my attention to the note. It was from Chris. It said "Thanks for all the hard work and long nights. I could not have gotten the project done without you doing the legwork. And, by the way, you have great legs!"

Wow! You could have knocked me over with a feather! Chris had no idea of my situation with my husband or my feelings for him. He had to be taking quite a chance or maybe he knew me quite well. So I decided to see where this would go. I retrieved the bag from my desk and, hiding it as best I could, I made my way to the ladies room and locked the door behind me. I sat there for a minute to catch my breath and wondered what I was getting into. I decided that my best years were passing me by and I needed to take a chance.

I stood up and removed my jacket. I soon realized that my skirt was pretty form-fitting so I would need to remove that too. As I unzipped the skirt and began to slide it off my hips I remembered that all the late nights had impacted my ability to do laundry and, as such, I was wearing no panties under my pantyhose. I almost changed my mind but as I looked down at my legs I noticed a huge run in my pantyhose. "No turning back now," I thought. I stripped off my pantyhose and discarded them in the trash. I then clasped the garter belt and spun it around my waist so that the rose was in the front. What a beautiful, lacy garment it was and looking down at my naked pubic area made me wish I had the matching panties. And when I say "naked" I mean totally bare, not a single hair. One of the benefits of working was that I had money for a few niceties and I had recently indulged myself with a full body wax, including a Brazilian, so I was as bare as the day I was born.

I then turned my attention to the stockings. I held them and admired how delicate they were. So light and wispy; they made my recently discarded pantyhose seem like wooly long johns. I gathered the first one up between my thumbs and forefingers and reached down to my right foot and slipped it on. I slowly smoothed up my leg and felt the rubbery material at the top hug my thigh. I repeated the process with my left leg and then stood up to admire myself in the mirror. I attached the garters and then slipped on my shoes. God! I looked and felt sexy.

I heard some noise outside the ladies room and I realized the workday was beginning so I quickly put on my skirt and jacket and discarded the gift bag. I slipped out of the ladies room almost fearing that anyone that I encountered would know my little secret. When I got back to my desk I saw that Chris's office light was on. I picked up a pad and went to see if there was anything he needed. John from marketing was in with him going over last minute preparations for the presentation. Chris looked down at my legs and gave me a sly smile and a wink. This made me both blush and gush a little. I hoped the stocking tops would provide some absorbency as I sensed the wetness creeping down my thighs. Chris then said to me that he was taking Len to lunch after the meeting and he wanted me to come along to take notes to which I said "okay" and returned to my desk.

About two hours later I heard applause and the conference room door burst open followed by smiling individuals slapping each other on the back and shaking hands. Chris saw Len out and returned to his office. I followed Chris inside and asked when we were leaving for lunch. He said that we were leaving immediately because we had a stop to make. I grabbed a notebook and my purse and followed him out of the building.

In the car Chris explained that the presentation was a huge success and that he was close to closing the deal. He thanked me profusely for all of my hard work and dedication but that he had one more task that he needed help with. He also mentioned that Len had a particular Achilles heel and that he wanted to exploit it with his "secret weapon." With that we pulled off the boulevard and into the parking lot of a very exclusive dress shop. I wasn't quite sure that I understood what he meant and before I could ask him, he parked the car, got out, and headed to the shop door in a hurry. I jumped out and had to run to catch him. I tried again to ask him what he meant but my question went unheard.

As we entered the shop Ruth, a 70 year-old, petite Jewish woman, whose claim to fame included dressing several Hollywood starlets for red carpet appearances, greeted us. Chris explained to Ruth that he wanted her to dress me in the most fabulous dress she had. That it should show all of my feminine wiles in the most elegantly stunning manner possible, and it had to be done right now. I was dumfounded. By the time I found my voice and began to protest Ruth had her hand in the small of my back guiding me firmly to the dressing room. "I know just the dress, the Armani" she exclaimed. "Sue, call Marie to do her hair and makeup" she ordered her assistant.

When we reached the dressing room she told me to take off my suit and she disappeared. She soon returned holding a dress and found me still in my blouse. As loud as day she announced "I meant strip off all of your clothes. Take off your blouse and brassiere as well." I turned crimson as this was going to be the first of many times I would blush today.

As I unbuttoned my blouse I admired the dress she was holding. It was a gorgeous silk dress in an elegant royal blue. It zippered completely up the front from the hemline to the bust line and was totally backless. There were three thin straps that crisscrossed the back and one attached to the neckline that looped around the neck. The open back and the deep-cut front made it all too clear that I would be unable to wear a bra with it so I took a deep breath, reached behind me and unclasped it freeing my breasts. Ruth handed me the now unzipped dress. I swished it behind me and looped the neck strap over my shoulders and reached to the hemline to engage the zipper. The dress was designed to hug me so I could only raise the zipper a couple of inches at a time for fear of damaging it. As I shimmied into it I thought to myself "This feels like an episode of 'I Love Lucy' meets 'The Twilight Zone.'"

There were bra cups in the bodice that were lined with the same rubbery material as on my stocking tops and the effect it had on my nipples was exhilarating. The zipper rose only as high as the bottom of my breasts so my full cleavage was bared for all to leer at. There was a hook and eye clasp at the top of the zipper that secured all. When I did get it zipped the dress fit as though it were made exclusively for me. It was styled like a romper with a skirt and the waistline rode low on my hips. Every one of my curves was accentuated and, as tricky as it was to zipper, there was no discomfort at all, just a gentle, body-hugging snugness. Though, to be honest, there wasn't that much dress to be in contact with in the first place. As I looked at myself in the mirror though, I thought how the years and motherhood had been kind to me.

"The garter belt has to go. It will show." She was right, of course. "Are the stockings 'stay-ups'?" she asked not waiting for a response. "They can stay. I like the color contrast." I whispered to her if I could get a pair of panties. Showing no discretion she explained at full volume that panties would show lines nor would a thong be an option as it would show a "whale's tail" which caused me to blush bright red again. I dutifully raised the hemline and unsnapped the garters. The dress just barely covered the lacy part of my stockings. I then reached behind me, unclasped the garter belt and carefully pulled it out. The dress looked so smooth now, like a second skin. The short skirt really accentuated my legs. I loved their definition and was proud that I had stuck it out with the gym. It was a lovely sight, and devastatingly sexy. Now I was beginning to get nervous.

I heard Chris call out that we were going to be late and that caused my stomach to jump. Ruth shuttled me to a salon chair where Marie styled my hair and applied my makeup. Ruth disappeared again only to return with a pair of strappy, blue stiletto sandals that matched the dress perfectly. They were the daintiest shoes that I had ever seen. There was a strap accented by a gold chain across my toes and the gold chain accented strap for my ankle was attached to the side of the sole and put my feet on display. "Giuseppe Zanotti," Ruth said, as if I knew him from J.C. Penney. "The chain is real gold." As Ruth lifted my feet to slip them on I realized by the rush of cool air that I would need to be careful lest I expose myself.

Marie finished my makeup and helped me out of the chair and onto my feet. The shoes were much taller than I was used to. I imagined myself tumbling off them, landing on my back, legs splayed open, my womanhood on display for all the world to see and I uncontrollably blushed again.

I overheard the end of the conversation between Ruth and Chris as they settled the bill which came to over $2500. Ruth continued to tell me how good I looked; or, rather, how good she made me look. Chris carried the bag with my clothes as we left while I concentrated on remaining upright on my new shoes

Back in the car I renewed my protest but Chris would have none of it. "I want to keep Len off balance," He said. "It's no big deal. He just likes to look anyway."

I complained that Len might get the wrong idea. To which Chris responded, "That won't happen, Len is not like that." adding "Alana, I'm not asking you to do anything more than you want to do. But I have to be honest with you. We need this. If we don't close this deal it is not just my job, it is everybody's job."

"But the dress cost $1,500. And the shoes...should we spend the money" I said weakly, grasping for a way out.

The company will make a thousand times that," he replied. "We'll be regarded as heroes and I promise, if things do go that way, no one except you, me and Len will ever know. I'm not asking you to commit to doing anything." Just then we pulled up at the valet station of a much-storied steakhouse whose name I purposely will refrain from mentioning. I am sure those who have been there will recognize it and probably cite their favorite bit a folklore about it. The valet opened my door and I carefully slid out of the seat making a concerted effort to keep my knees together. Thank god that Chris drove an Escalade.

The steakhouse is an old, stately restaurant that predated prohibition. I had only been there once before to attend a function that my husband had been invited to. It had two main rooms, the bar and the dining room. The bar room had a long mahogany bar and there were a combination of short and tall tables scattered about as well as a few small booths. The dining room was expansive with tables on main floor and along the perimeter was a raised platform on which circular booths were built. The booths along the wall were open semicircles large enough for four people. At the corners there were smaller, cozier booths with the tables set farther back and a padded bench seat almost encircling the table, designed for two people. The smaller opening also made it more secluded. All of the booths had high walls between them presumably to help keep conversations private.

Nick Hill
Nick Hill
18 Followers
12