Black Stockings secretary in the office

The office was larger than any I had ever working in before, the custodial staff all wore uniforms and the executive staff flashed off their posh motors and fancy suits and briefcases. All the floors were highly polished marble with brass corners and there were three lifts and 2 marble stair cases that lead you to the offices upstairs. Reception staff also wore the same uniform, the young lady at the reception desk asked me what business I was here on so I filled her in about me being the new temp for the administrative department, trying to sound as elegant and posh as my clothes portrayed me.

I may not have been in an executive position but I still had the posh suit, I was still missing the fancy car however. She advised me that I was to proceed to level 6, her accent dotting every I and crossing every T. Her tongue was sharp yet welcoming. I decided that I was going to freshen myself up in the ladies before heading upstairs as I had a few minutes to spare before starting work.

The toilets were better than I expected them to be. There were luxurious soaps and perfumes littering the wash hand basins. There were soft hand creams and moisturisers lining the window sills. The scent of soft rose lingered in the air as though fresh roses sat in front of me, but they did not.

I looked into the full length mirror and watched the young lady look back at me. I wore a beaming red pinstripe suit and midnight black shirt. My stiletto heels shined under the bathroom spotlights. My jutting breasts were large and my cleavage stuck out like a sore thumb. My trim, toned stomach lay hidden under my shirt and blazer while my sexy legs screamed for attention.

I wore black stockings with fine straight lines indented so that it looked as though there was no material in those lines. The stripes were very fine and very evenly spaced out so looked very elegant. They matched my pinstripe suit except they were black and my suit was red. The complimented my shoes nicely.

I skimmed my fingers along the hem of my skirt, just so that I could feel the wonderful material that embraced my legs on the tip of my fingers as I had that morning when I put them on. I felt the sheer nylon tingle the insides of my thighs as I walked to work this morning, I endured the endless teasing of my silk panties rubbing against my hips every time I moved my candy ass. I looked over myself once more before heading out of the toilets somewhat flustered and made my way over to the nearest lift. If I hadn’t been wearing shoes this high then I would have taken the stairs, as it stood I really didn’t fancy a broken ankle on my first day at work.

The lift was purely made from ornamental glass. This was certainly the wrong day to wear a skirt. As the lift came down the glass tube that enclosed it I stared up at the suit men that filled the lift. As I suspected I did not see any women wearing skirts in the lift, but I would be the one to change that.

The lift stopped with the bell dinging in the background. The workers shuffled out and continued on their way, not stopping to look back at me, the woman who was about to ride the lift in a skirt and stockings. I stepped into the lift and watch the doors close, sealing my fate. I pressed the number 6 and waited patiently for the lift to take off, hoping that I wouldn’t need to stop at every floor.

The lift was smooth and quiet; it was hard to tell you were moving if you closed your eyes. Workers passed by below me and hardly moved an eyeball at me, for that I was glad. However, as with everything there is always one, one that defies belief.

He stood there in his impressive Armani suit made out of expensive wool. His briefcase oozed Italian leather and his shoes shined brightly, obviously, just having been polished by the young man outside. His eyes were fixated on me however, not his expensive suit, shoes or briefcase. Not on the moving elevator or expensive glass or marble. No, they were on me and my legs. He didn’t even glance at my chest.

His eyes scoured my legs, devouring every inch of them, making my mouth go dry. I licked my lips as his eyes lustfully took in every detail of my stockings. He traced the fine, empty lines of the material with his prying eyes. As the lift got higher, so did the view. His eyes were gleaming and his neck straining, he took a few steps backwards to enjoy the view a little more.

The beginnings of my thighs were showing now, his eyes taking in every detail of them too. He watched as the soft lights of the elevator reflected against the harsh metal clasps that held my stockings in place. Thankfully my floor was only two stops away so he shouldn’t get to see past my panties.

His eyes didn’t budge. His hands didn’t flinch. His face stayed neutral, all of his face except for his eyes. They were mixing with emotions, lust being the primary one. I could feel his heavy gaze resting on my legs, my thighs to be precise. Soon they rose to my crotch where, thankfully, my creamy, silk panties covered.

I could hear the elevator stopping but somehow I didn’t want to leave. I took my eyes of off the young man down below to make sure we were at my stop and my suspicions proved correct, I was here. I turned around to see him before I left, to see where his eyes were fixated on now. He was gone. It didn’t take him long but he had disappeared into the crowd.

I stepped out of the elevator somewhat disappointed. I enjoyed the feel of his weighted gaze over my body. Suddenly the office didn’t seem that spectacular. I walked along the red carpet of the hallway until I entered the office where I was working. Soon enough the young stranger was out of my head as I was staring at the most hi tech, up to date office I had even worked in. I had a feeling that today was going to be a good one. To read all my exclusive stockings stories and watch me stockings movies and pictures visit my own premium site here