She did hate the old bastard. Myrna told herself that if Bernie Perkins wasn't her boss she wouldn't stoop to spit on him. Let alone do what she was doing now.

But she did have this cushy little job as his secretary and she was not about to throw it away. She did what he wanted and when he wanted it. She entertained him.

Now she was sitting in his office without her dress. Bernie knew she had a husband, but of course Bernie didn't care about that. The old bastard liked his fun. He liked her in undies.

She wore white today, a white bra and a white garter belt and white panties without a crotch so that her dark hairy pussy showed in the slit. She wore beige nylons and white high-heeled sandals, and Bernie's eyes were so hot she thought he'd float up to the ceiling at any moment.

She knew what she did to him. She sat in a chair facing Bernie and she had her right leg raised, her right foot resting on her left knee, her legs wide open so that Bernie could see the slit in the crotch of her panties.

The right cup of her bra was pulled down to show nearly all of her right tit. She touched her tit now, just a light touch with her fingertips on the point of her nipple. She looked at Bernie and smiled as she wagged her nipple back and forth.

If her husband Neal knew what she was doing, he would certainly kill her. Neal had no idea that she sometimes dressed like this, in a garter belt and stockings and crotchless panties. She always put them on only after she reached the office. Neal never saw her in anything but pantyhose. The modest housewife with her little part-time job as a secretary. Well, if she had to work, she didn't want anything but this. Old Bernie never put any pressure on her and the pay was good. So what if she had to entertain him once in a while.