Elise - Slutty Intern Ch. 01

***It has been quite a while since my last submission. I've already written a few chapters in this new series, and I'll release them over the coming days and weeks. I don't know if I'll add onto a previous series, but who knows? I usually write these when I can't let go of a thought. This chapter starts with a good amount of buildup but will finish with a lot of activity in subsequent chapters. If you have feedback, feel free to share it. Send me a message or write a comment. I hope everyone understands this is fiction. If you're anonymous and complain something is offensive or unsexy, I honestly couldn't care less.

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As I walked down the main thoroughfare of campus, I was on Cloud 9. Not only was there a sexy little coed walking in front of me with an ass that could double as a bouncy house, but I was heading to sign the final paperwork to confirm my internship for that summer. Normally going to sign paperwork would not be in the same league as enjoying the view of Daisy Duke in front of me - whose ass cheeks were peeking out the bottom of her short shorts that were swaying with the sexiest, sashaying shimmy you ever saw - but this walk on a gorgeous sunny afternoon meant I was on my way to cementing my future.

You see, this internship was really going to set me up to go places. Before I ever started college, I set some pretty lofty goals. I had to set myself apart in school. You see, I didn't come from any wealth, or even a middle class family. My dad raised me by himself after my mom took off, and he's not much of a role model. He was employed about 20% of a given year and we scraped by on what he didn't drink. My part time jobs made the difference between making rent and having the power shut off.

My dad's utter inactivity had always inspired me to try hard in school and never be in that position. I didn't want to be him, but I also knew I had to take care of him. That meant a good amount of sacrifice. My social life in college had always been lacking. I had some good friends, but I just wasn't able to go out. I sent money home to dad to make sure he didn't starve or freeze, and that didn't leave much to go out to the bars, join a fraternity, or order pizza late at night with a group of drunk revelers. Don't even start about having a girlfriend...it was a no-go on my budget and schedule.

Pre-Orientation

"Alright everyone, settle down and take a seat. My name is Vincent Sumrall, and I am the partner at Clark, Weaver & Brewer who will be overseeing your summer internships," said the dapper man in front of the small group. He looked about 45, distinguished, and spoke with the confidence of a real charmer.

As I scanned the room, there were five other people sitting in the seats. They were apparently the other interns who had been selected from the rigorous interview process. Clark Weaver was a leading boutique accounting firm in the region that specialized in audit and compliance work for large manufacturing firms.

For me, this was a great opportunity because the partner track was as fast and lucrative as any firm job in the Big Four. The salary they were going to pay me for the summer was astonishing. It would set me up to help my dad, save a good chunk, and leave me a little to have some fun my senior year. And based on the look of the people around me, the firm meant business.

Starting from the front, there were three guys in the front row. They were tall, aristocratic-looking jock types who were wearing sharp looking slacks and blazers. I learned their names were Jack, Ryan, and Michael. They were straight from a Brooks Brothers catalogue. Ryan was pretty skinny and extremely average looking. Jack was pretty overweight but looked like he used to play a sport in high school. Probably a former lax-er. Michael was the tall, good looking one of them.

To my right, there was goofy looking guy, and he was the one person I knew. That was Chris. I recognized him from one of my finance classes. I remember him being probably the smartest person in class, but he was also pretty lazy and relied solely on his raw smarts.

To my left, la piece de resistance. The one woman of the group - and she was enough woman to stop the tides. Holy cow was she smoking. She had flowing blonde hair and styled herself in a professional pantsuit that was deliberately demure but couldn't hide her busty chest and curvy hips. I learned her name was Elise.

After a brief introduction, Mr. Sumrall continued, "Thank you all for coming out this afternoon for this brief introduction. You will participate in a structured and rigorous orientation process the first week of the internship, but I always think it's wise to reiterate the fundamental rules of the firm: 1) Every piece of work product that comes off your desk must maintain the highest possible standard; 2) Always present yourself in a professional manner; and 3) Use common sense."

This part of his speech wasn't necessarily ominous, but it was clear that we couldn't goof around like a bunch of kids. That was clear by what followed.

"It's also probably good to add that you all should know your place. You are the top of your business classes, but always remember that you are undergrad interns and there is a chain of command at the firm. Don't make waves."

"Thank you for the pep talk Mr. Sumrall, but I think we all would love to have a little more information on our assignments for the summer. I mean, where are we going to live in three weeks?" Chris piped in. Hmm, bold. I imagine every other person in our intern class wanted to ask a similar question, but we would have done it with a little more polish.

"Chris, that will all be made clear in a few moments. Each of you will be paired with another intern for the summer. Each pair will be assigned to one of the three client sites I oversee. In other words, you will be working for me and working onsite with my clients. It is imperative that you act accordingly. For instance, if you address any client in a tone like what Chris just mouthed, you will answer to me."

Mr. Sumrall stared Chris down, and his authority was firmly established.

Sumrall continued, "I'll meet with you all in your pairs to go over specifics. Let's start with Elise and Kevin."

Holy fuck, that was me. And I was being paired with the blonde!

The Pairing

"Kevin Banks, age 20 from Old Town. It's a pleasure to meet you. You weren't originally on our radar, but your academic record and, particularly, the references supplied by your teachers put you over the top. We understand that you are a very hard worker and pair that with quite a brain."

Sumrall's words made my head swim. It was such a vindication of my hard work. A high ranking partner in a prestigious firm had such high praise for me! But if there was another thing that made my head swim, it was the bombshell sitting beside me. I followed Elise into the conference room, and on that walk I was able to take her in. She was about 5'6" but three inches taller in her fashionable heels. She was a lovely shade of blonde. It came from a bottle, but it looked like she didn't have to go too many shades away to get the effect. And she was petite...and buxom. She had a narrow little waist, and she was round in all the right places. She had full hips and tits bigger than you'd expect from someone with her small frame. And she seemed classy. Her suit jacket and business shirt were tailored to be flatteringly tight, but not trashy. She was the complete package.

"Elise Miller, age 20 from Highlands. It's been, what, four months since you and your family were at my Christmas party?"

"Yes sir. Thank you for having us to the party as usual. We always have a great time. I'm sorry that I disappeared relatively early. The egg nog was particularly strong this year."

"It was indeed, and from what I heard from the others who were in the basement, it seems you all had an interesting evening. Anyway, shifting gears, your dad is so proud of you for joining the firm. Obviously, he cannot oversee your internship...nepotism rules...but if you work hard there's no ceiling for you at the firm."

Upon saying this, Sumrall smiled and hugged Elise. It seemed they were quite close. He took a step back and looked at both of us.

"Kevin and Elise, you will be working in Pinewood this summer for my most important client, AgriBelt Feed Solutions. Granted, it's in the middle of nowhere, the plant gives off a certain odor, and your social lives will suffer, but this is one of the most lucrative accounts we have. If you do good work, this will show the firm that you know how to pay your dues. It may not seem like it now, but this is the fast track."

I was floored by this development. I didn't care where I was, I just wanted to prove myself. Elise, on the other hand, looked like someone told her her dog died.

"We have you both living in a duplex in what you might call the town. It's across the street from the only restaurant in town, so you'll have to get used to Mickey's. The people are...interesting...but they're good people. You'll be boots on the ground for inventory checks and spreadsheet analysis."

Sumrall flipped through some pages that looked like our dossiers, and he stopped and looked up at us.

"Guys, based on the, uh, saturating nature of the products at the plant, it has a tendency to seep into your clothes ...and uh... not let go, so the firm gives a clothes allotment for its employees and interns on this site. Kevin, what are your sizes? Suit, shirt, pants, shoe, etc."

"Uh, let me think," I stammered. "Uhh...Size 10.5 shoe." I knew that. But I borrowed the suit I wore to the interview, and I only got that size right by seeking out the guy on my hall that matched me in size. I knew I had to get some suits before the summer, but I didn't know I had to rattle off sizes for this meeting. I was a little humiliated. This was one of those times growing up poor was biting me in the ass.

"You're what, 6'0", 180 pounds?" Elise sized me up.

"About that," I had to admit. I was pretty scrawny.

"He looks about 38' shoulders, 32' waist, and 35' inseam...Maybe 38 Long?" Elise added in a detached but interested tone. This was the first time she had acknowledged my existence, and it was funny to have a girl quite literally 'size me up' in our first interaction.

"Ok, that should be enough," Sumrall nodded as he made notes.

"Elise, not to be forward, but you're...?"

"I can furnish my own clothes, thank you," she responded.

Sumrall smiled, looked up, and said, "Elise, you've got to play the game. You shouldn't turn down anything free right off the bat. Them's the perks."

"Size 4 jacket, 2 for pants. Small shirt, size 6.5 shoe," she rattled off.

"Dimensions? We can have things tailored with enough specifics."

Elise narrowed her eyes, paused, and responded in a confident tone I don't know I'd ever heard a girl my age muster. "35-23-34. I wear a 35D and they're used to lace and silk. Write that down."

The two exchanged a fiery glance. His smirk confirmed that he understood this line was inappropriate, but it was a game he knew well and played often. What shocked and inspired me was that she matched his look. She wasn't upset. She simply stared him down, mirroring his look of understanding of the game.

"I thought bras only came in even sizes."

"They do at Wal-Mart."

"I'll see that they're taken care of."

"See that you do."

Man, this girl was going to be something...

First Toast

Four weeks later on a humid Saturday afternoon Elise and I were pulling into Pinewood in a hired car from a small local airport. The first impression was the smell. It wasn't noxious, but there seemed to be a continual whiff of decay, body odor, and a little bit of fart. Surveying the scene, there didn't seem to be a lot to take in. There were two stop signs and a few buildings. The landscape wasn't inspiring. We were near the mountains, but not in them. The expanse in front of us was pretty flat and filled with disused fields and some abandoned vehicles that seemed to go back a few decades. We lugged our belongings to a split level building where our respective keys easily unlocked our temporary lodging.

After I crossed the threshold, I looked around my apartment and was so proud. Yes, this place was dumpy, but it had a living room, a kitchen with all the appliances, a bedroom, and...the biggest deal...a combo washer-dryer. I had never had a laundry room in my own place. For the first time in my life, I wouldn't have to cart my clothes and wash them somewhere in public.

I unpacked quickly and headed over to see how Elise was fairing. I knocked on her door. I initially didn't hear anything, so I waited a second and tried again. I heard a faint "come in" from what sounded like the back of her place, so I cracked the door and hesitantly headed in. She was sitting on her bed with her luggage open, but unpacked, around her. She had a vacant, upset look on her face, and when she looked up to me her eyes were a little red. I don't think she'd been crying, but something was obviously bothering her.

I took some hesitant steps forward and started the process of figuring out what was up with my intern partner. The last time I had seen her, she was locking horns and keeping up with a seasoned businessman. The girl in front of me seemed meeker, and I couldn't really figure it out.

"So, quite the place we have. Your's looks just about the same as mine. Free cable tv and everything!" I said, trying to add some levity to the mix.

"I'm sorry to be so mopey. It's just sad to see that this whole situation is exactly as I imagined it, and I imagined it to be terrible."

"Well, we only just got here, so let's give it a few days before we come to any conclusions. How 'bout we go grab something to eat? I'm pretty hungry."

"Sure. I'm scared to find out what's on the menu at Mickey's, but a glass of Chardonnay will hit the spot."

...

A few minutes after entering Mickey's, Elise seemed a little more upbeat. There weren't many people in Mickey's, but the ones that were there sure noticed Elise. She took in the stares, sideways glances, and even the glares with a muted sense of satisfaction.

That satisfaction was, however, quickly muted. When taking our order our waitress, an older woman who looked none-to-pleased that this gorgeous coed was sitting in her section, asked for ID when Elise ordered a glass of wine. Elise switched her order to water.

"Yea, I don't want to pull out my fake ID during this internship," she confided immediately after. "That said, there's always ways to order so that they won't ask for ID." She gave me a wink and we continued to chat, getting to know one another throughout the meal.

My burger was very burger-like and Elise had a salad. It was all pretty standard stuff. And even though the food was standard, it was really nice getting to know Elise. I knew that she grew up in the swanky town of Highlands, and I learned she went to high school at Highlands Prep, a very prestigious high school. She was a volleyball player and her dad is a big partner at Clark Weaver. She had taken the business pre-req courses to get this internship, but she had also taken a good amount of classes in other departments, particularly in art history with her friends. She was in a sorority. She told me which one and it sounded like the one that all the stunningly attractive girls joined, but I had no idea about such things. That wasn't my world.

About an hour later Elise and I were finishing up our meal. As we stood to leave, she paused and unbuttoned her shirt. She had been wearing a standard white button-up shirt, like one for casual Friday, and some pretty short shorts. Before then, I hadn't even thought about her outfit. Her shirt was untucked, but came down just below her waistline. I was a little puzzled why she was taking it off now. It was hot outside, but the sun was going down and it would have made a lot more sense to leave that in the house if she was worried about the heat.

Underneath the button-up, she had on a thin little tank top with a plunging neckline and was only held up by thin little spaghetti straps. The bra underneath was clearly outlined, and her tits and cleavage came front and center. I couldn't help but gawk when she handed me the button up. The tank top ended about two inches above her shorts, the lack of the bottom-up revealed a good chunk of midriff. Her stomach was flat, but it also showed some softness — the sign of a healthy, non-emaciated woman. I loved it. Her shorts covered her ass, but they certainly left a lot of bare leg. Her tanned legs looked athletic from volleyball, but they were certainly not tree trunks. They were lovely.

I saw her saunter over to the bar, put her elbows down, lean over, and wait. She didn't even have to call out to the bartender, he just came right over. The way she leaned over, I can only imagine how amazing her tits would look pushed together hanging over the bar.

"Can I get a bottle of Chardonnay to go?" she asked in the voice of someone who knew they were going to get what they wanted.

A bearded bartender in a trucker hat asked her if she "wanted the little or big bottle?"

"The big." She slapped $40 dollars on the bar, grabbed a tall brown bag, and walked out. I don't think she even waited to see how much he was going to charge. He didn't say anything, though, and I followed her out.

...

Two hours later I was two glasses deep, Elise might have been five in, and our conversation had really opened up. It only took a little wine and Elise seemed to shift into a fun, social mode. I don't even think she was tipsy, because she never slurred, stuttered, or appeared to be off balance when she'd get up to do something. It just seemed like she was conditioned to get a little more animated and a flirty with alcohol.

And hey, I'm not complaining. We started laughing and sharing stories, and I felt like I was really making a connection. Every now and then she'd really respond to something I said like no woman had in a long time, maybe ever. We shared our ups and downs. She seemed fascinated by my life at school, because it was so wholly different from her own.

She lived a sorority-girl lifestyle where her entire friend group and social scene were focused on parties, fashion, and beauty. You could tell she loved and missed her friends, but you could also sense they were a huge source of anxiety for her. She expressly said she felt like she was always catching up, playing second fiddle, and always was looking for the next validation or chunk of acceptance.

For instance, when she casually dropped the name of one of her friends, expecting I would be duly impressed, she laughed when she found out I had no idea who this girl was. So she got on her Instagram account and showed me a picture of the girl. Holy moly she was gorgeous, and every picture of her seemed like it was taken with a professional photographer and showed at least 80% of her breasts. Elise was very quick to note that the girl had 110,000 followers, had been featured on multiple model pages, and was looking to take that on as a career. In going from one friend to another, I found out she had three other sorority sisters with at least 40,000 followers. That sounded good and everything, but I had no earthly idea what that meant. I thought social media was a waste of time.

Then Elise got a little quiet when she admitted she 'only' 6,000 followers. I told her that sounded great to me, but all she could talk about were her friends - the ones with over 50,000.

"Well, I've been working to build my social media game recently," she said. "It all started when my friend Kate with 90k stopped posting pictures of us together, because I wasn't wearing revealing outfits. Pics where all the girls didn't have cleavage-galore didn't get as many likes."