"I'll be right with you, Madam,” he had called out after she had closed the office door with its pleasant tinkling bell behind her.

Wanda wondered how he'd known to address her as “Madam.” Then a concealed reflecting mirror caught her eye.

Mr. White had a pleasant voice. Wanda thought he sounded like an educated, sophisticated, even worldly, middle-aged man. She imagined him to be handsome with aristocratic sideburns, sculpted features and a shock of dark brown curly hair. Perhaps he even had a romantic moustache, she thought.

She smoothed down her skirt and, making sure she wasn't observed, slid one hand up inside her skirt between her parted thighs to readjust the garters. Instead of pulling them down to where they fit more properly around her thighs, she pulled them upwards slightly, so that they moved into her cunt more tightly. Then, glancing around her, she moved the strip of soft but firm leather against her clitoris and rubbed it there.

Crossing her legs, she rocked back and forth slightly in order to feel the garters moving across her cunt. Depending upon her position, the edges either came together as if they were taking hold of her clitoris and pinching it slightly, or the edge of one garter rubbed against her aroused, hard clitoris, while the other cut into her flesh. In her current position, her clitoris was pinched, as she rocked back and forth so that the edges moved against one another like two fingers.

Then Mr. White appeared.

"Oh God,” she exclaimed to herself, half-aloud. But Mr. White heard it-that was for certain.

"Did you say something, Madam?” He was a huge man, a veritable giant with a white beard and hair flowing to his shoulders.