"You listen to me, Carl ... No, Dammit! That's NOT what we'd agreed to. I specifically told you ..."

Suddenly the door to his office opened and Candi poked her head in. Henderson covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "I told you not to disturb me! What is it?!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Henderson, but ... your wife is here, sir."

Henderson's face got even redder. He signaled Candi to wait. Into the phone he said, "Listen, Carl. I've said all I've got to say. You'll be hearing from my attorney." He slammed the phone down, and took a deep breath. "All right, Candi. Tell her to come in."

A few seconds later, Mrs. Henderson entered the office and closed the door behind her. She pulled a chair up to the desk and sat across from her husband. After crossing her legs, she carefully smoothed the skirt of her custom-tailored navy business suit, and folded her hands on her lap. Her thin lips were drawn into a mirthless grin. She batted her eyelashes and sat staring at her husband in silence.

After a minute, Henderson sighed heavily. "What do you want, Grace?"

"Why, Thomas. Can't a woman just stop by and say hello to her husband?" Her eyelashes fluttered just as she started to speak, as if their motion were needed to impel the words from her mouth.

"What do you want?" Henderson repeated, emphasizing each word.

Ignoring his question, she turned and looked at the wall, beyond which Candi sat at her desk. "So that's your latest little tart, hmm? What street corner did you find this one on?"

Henderson clenched his teeth. "Candi has been working for me for several months now. She's an excellent secretary."

"Oh, 'Candi' is it? How ... sweet. I'm sure she's very ... talented."

"What do you want?" Henderson asked for the third time.

Again, his wife ignored the question. "Let me guess. Her last name is Kane. Candi Kane, right?"

"Her name is Candace, dammit. 'Candi' is a very common-"

"Why didn't you tell me about this one, Thomas?" Anger flared across her face.

A new silence hung above the desk between them. Henderson took another deep breath. "You know how I feel about your ... interest in my staff."

"Hmph! I'm hardly interested in your 'staff' as you call that thing." She somehow managed to sneer and laugh at the same time. "But I AM interested in this 'Candi' of yours."

"Grace, don't."

"You know I like you to share your sweets with me, Thomas. Like Daddy shares his money with you. I think I'll invite Candi to lunch with me today."

"Don't, Grace."

"Yes, lunch at the Executive Club would be wonderful."

"No! Not this one."

Her eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "Oh my. This Candi Kane is so different from the others?"

Henderson fidgeted nervously with his pen. "I- I think she thinks she's in love with me."

Mrs. Henderson snorted. "They ALL think they're in love you, Thomas. God help me, even I thought I was in love with you once. No, I don't think that's it. It must be something-" She stopped suddenly and gasped. For the first time, a look of true amusement crossed her face. "Why, Thomas! YOU'RE in love with HER, aren't you?"

"Of course not. It's just-"

"This is so precious! Tommy loves Candi. It's just adorable."

"You're wrong!"

"Then prove it!"

Another silence formed as husband and wife stared each other down across the desk. Henderson blinked first. He reached for the intercom button. "Candi? My wife would like to treat you to lunch today."

"Mr. Henderson?" Candi's puzzlement sounded clearly through the tinny speaker.

"Just- let her take you to lunch today. I'll explain later." He released the button and stared back at his wife. "There. I hope you're satisfied."

"Not yet, Thomas. But I suspect I will be soon."

The Missis, Copyright 1999 by rodharden@yahoo.com
All rights reserved.
Reproduction in any form prohibited with written consent of the author.

The Executive Club was normally for men only, but Mrs. Henderson had a private room in the back nonetheless. She studied the pretty young secretary across the intimate table. "That's a lovely dress, Candi. You look good enough to eat in it."

Candi glanced up from the menu. "Thank you, Mrs. Henderson," she said nervously. She looked down again to escape the intensive scrutiny of the older woman.

"Candi, there's something you should know about working for my husband. Something he may not have mentioned before."

"What do you mean, Mrs. Henderson?"

"You see, our marriage is more of a ... business arrangement than a romantic partnership. Did you know that?"

"Well, I-"

"You might say we share our resources. I share Daddy's money with him. And he shares his ... staff ... yes, his staff, with me." Mrs. Henderson smiled to herself.

"So, I'm supposed to be your secretary too?"

"You're to be my special assistant, yes. If you're up to it, that is. And if you're not, then you shall not remain in my husband's employ."

Candi looked shocked. "Oh no, Mrs. Henderson! You can't! I mean, I really like working for your husband. It, the work, is very fulfilling. I'm sure I can handle whatever you need me to do."

"Very well then. First of all, you shall address me as 'Mistress' from now on. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mrs. Hender- I mean, Mistress."

"And put down that menu. Today, you'll eat what I tell you to eat, when I tell you to eat it. Is that clear?"

Candi shook her head, confused. "But I thought you were treating me to lunch?"

"I am."

Just then the waitress entered the room. "I'll have what I usually have," said Mrs. Henderson.

The waitress turned toward Candi expectantly. Candi looked from the waitress to Mrs. Henderson, who stared back at her severely. Candi looked up at the waitress again. "I- I've decided I'm not that hungry after all," she said, handing the menu to the waitress without ordering.

"That's right," added Mrs. Henderson. "She's not very hungry. She'll just have a little something from my plate." The waitress shrugged and walked off.

Mrs. Henderson smiled warmly at Candi. "You pick up on things very quickly, my dear. Now, sit up straight! Don't slouch."

Mrs. Henderson got up and walked around the table. Standing behind Candi, she placed her hands on Candi's cheeks. Her fingers were quite soft, but cold. Candi shivered slightly. Then Mrs. Henderson ran her hands down to Candi's shoulders, massaging them briefly. She continued moving her hands downward to Candi's arms, which she pulled gently back behind the chair. "When you sit with me, you must watch your posture, dear. Straight back. Arms behind you like this. And uncross those legs. Knees just slightly apart. Yes, that's good. You may slant your ankles off to the right just a bit. That's fine."

Mrs. Henderson returned to her seat and stared back at Candi. "Do you know what effect a pretty thing like you has on a woman like me, Candi?"

"No, I guess I don't ... Mistress."

The waitress rapped lightly on the door and entered with a large chef's salad. She quickly set the plate in front of Mrs. Henderson and left.

Mrs. Henderson took a forkful of the salad, chewed, and swallowed. "Come over here by me, and I'll show you." The table was quite small and Candi only needed to take half a step to stand beside Mrs. Henderson. "Get down on your knees, girl. And keep your hands behind you, or I shall have to tie them there."

Candi knelt down, resting her buttocks on her heels, and obediently clasped her hands behind her back. With her face just about even with Mrs. Henderson's lap, she became aware of a vaguely familiar scent that was overpowering the smell of the salad and dressing. She looked up at Mrs. Henderson, who held another forkful of salad in front of her face. "Here's that lunch I promised you, my dear. Open wide." Candi swallowed the few pieces of lettuce. Mrs. Henderson dabbed her chin for her with a napkin. "Very good, my dear. And now, here's your dessert."

With that, Mrs. Henderson turned in her chair, and at the same time pulled her skirt up. Candi gasped, first at the sudden movement, then at the realization that Mrs. Henderson was not wearing panties. She stared at the older woman's pink, glistening sex. "Well," said Mrs. Henderson impatiently. "Are you going to admire it all day, or start eating?"

Roused from her shock, Candi licked her lips, leaned forward and began to eat Mrs. Henderson's pussy. Going by instinct, she used her tongue to probe the delicate folds. She quickly found the hardened bud within and concentrated her efforts there. Mrs. Henderson began to moan, grabbing Candi's head and pulling her closer.

"Yes, that's it, Candi. Use your lips too. Yes. Now suck it. Lick it. Nibble. Oh yes!" Soon, Mrs. Henderson's instructions were incoherent syllables. She balled up a napkin and thrust it into her own mouth to try to quiet herself. She rocked back and forth on her chair in rapid jerks, as Candi continued her oral ministrations. Suddenly she was screaming, her hand over her mouth trying to hold in the sound.

At last, she pulled Candi away. Gasping for breath, she looked at the younger woman with wide, almost maniacal eyes. Spitting the napkin out of her mouth, she leaned down and kissed Candi. Her tongue pressed deeply into Candi's mouth until Candi's tongue joined her own in a sensual pas de deux. Candi moaned softly as they kissed for several long minutes, eventually letting lips and tongues wander over each other's face.

When Mrs. Henderson's passion had subsided enough, she sat up in her chair, pulled her skirt down, and straightened it out. Patting her flushed cheeks with another napkin, she smiled down at Candi. "That was nicely done, Candi. I could tell you haven't done this before, but I think you have a knack for it." She was still trying to get her breathing under control. "Yes, QUITE a knack for it. I don't think you'll have any problem continuing to work for my husband."

"Oh, thank you, Mistress." The relief in Candi's voice was apparent.

"Now," said Mrs. Henderson, "I think I'd like a little dessert myself. Do you know where I might find one, Candi?"

Candi's eyes gleamed. She stood up, reached under her dress, and began to pull her panties down. "Yes, Mistress. I think I do."

The Missis
Copyright 1999 by Rod Harden
All rights reserved
Do not reproduce without written permission from the author
rodharden@yahoo.com