But he sat down behind his desk again. She climbed back down the ladder, managing to get her dress hiked up high enough to give him a good look at her trim, hard, round ass.

He was sweating profusely, his hands trembling, his lips damp. But he wasn't a forward fellow, and Crystal was far too shy to make a suggestion, herself.

She decided not to wear any panties when she came to work, as a sort of hint.

"Well?" she asked.

"Ummmmm?" he murmured, distracted. "Oh. Oh, yes, to be sure – you may have the job, my dear."

"Thank you, Mister Sylvester. I know you won't be sorry." She batted her long, silken eyelashes bewitchingly. "I'll do anything you want me to."

He cleared his throat, hesitating. She looked hopeful. They both looked horny. But then he seemed to decide that it was too soon to go into details of her duties.

"Can you start after lunch?" he asked.

"Sure," she agreed.

That would give her time to find a place to live – and to return without any panties on, too.

"May I use the phone?" she asked.

"Certainly," the proper man replied.

Crystal checked the newspaper and then dialed the number of the house with a room to rent. The phone rang for some time before anyone answered, and Crystal took the opportunity to perch on the edge of the desk and move one knee up – so that Sylvester could have another searching look at her soaking panties, from closer up this time.

He was panting like a steam engine as he inhaled her pussy-perfume and gazed at the sodden crotch band of her sexy undies. His lapper flicked out again. He was doing his best to appear proper and businesslike, but he just couldn't conceal the cunt-hunger on his face.

Crystal was wondering how he would react if, without any embarrassing discussion, without any words at all, she simply slid on across the desk and shoved her pussy right into his distinguished face.