Chapter 10: A Little Help
Throughout that day, Lisa felt the eyes of the office on her
nipples, and did not find that she needed to, as Cheryl put it,
"give them a little pinch to wake them up." No, they were quite
awake on their own, as well as the rest of her body.
At about 3:15pm, she found herself in the bathroom. Sitting in
the stall, her panties and skirt at her knees, she noticed that
her finger was teasing her clit. She pulled it away, but the
pleasure she so desperately needed drew it back. The conversation
she had with Joan about getting permission seemed to make sense at
the time - and isn't that why Friday had gone so awry? But she
had barely managed to get any work done at all that day, thinking
only about her naked legs, about her pointy nipples under her blue
sweater, about Steve tickling her thighs, and about the smile
Cheryl gave when she left the conference room. And about her
pussy, which selfishly demanded attention. Getting permission
seemed like a good idea, but maybe not this time of the month when
her hormones were telling her to find a man, now!
Then it occurs to her: Cheryl hadn't /denied/ her permission.
Maybe she could get permission from someone else! Then she could
give her needy pussy the attention it craved and not feel guilty
about it!
She pulls up her panties and skirt and rushes to her cubicle, and
picks up her phone. Who should she call? Her first thought is
Steve, but then she thinks better of it and realizes that Joan
will surely give her permission. Quickly she dials her
therapist's number.
The phone rings three times. A recording comes on: "Hello, you
have reached the office of Joan Goldman. I am with a patient
right now and have de-activated my phone. However, I will be
happy to return your call as soon as I have a free moment. If
this is an emergency, press pound at any time. Otherwise, please
leave a message, including your telephone number. Thank You." As
the beep sounded, Lisa started to panic. Is this an emergency?
What will Joan thinks when her session is interrupted by a request
to masturbate? Should she leave a message? What should she say?
And will someone in the next cubicle overhear her? This is
hopeless, she thinks. She hangs up.
The moment the phone hits the hook, it rings again. Hopeful, Lisa
picks it up. "Hello?"
"Lisa! It's Jim. I got a busy signal the first time I called.
Who were you calling?"
What should she say? She can't tell her boss she was calling her
therapist! Not if she wanted that promotion. "A client.
Roberts."
"Oh? I thought we were close to closing that account. What was
the call about?"
Lisa feels like a schoolgirl in trouble. She looks down at her
lap and thinks: you! You got me into this! It's time to be an
adult, she thinks.
"I'm sorry Jim, it wasn't Roberts. It was a personal call I'd
rather not discuss."
There's a pause.
"Hey, no problem. As long as it wasn't long distance."
"No sir, of course not."
"Listen, Lisa, I'm trying to set something up. It could be a good
opportunity for you. But I need to ask you a personal question.
Do you mind?"
Does Jim know something? She responds, "Go ahead."
"Feel free not to answer. I mean really. There's no obligation
here."
"Go ahead and ask." Lisa worries, but reminds herself: it's a
skirt day. Jim is clearly uncertain, or covering himself against
sexual harassment, she thinks. But he needn't worry. She feels
the same suspense she remembered having on her first date.
"Okay: it's just this. What, um, what dress size are you?"
Well, she knew it wouldn't be something she wrote on her resume.
Jim has something in mind . . . and although she's worried, she is
anxious to know what.
"What's this about, sir?" she asks.
"I'll tell you tomorrow, if I can get this set up. But if I
can't, then it's better that you not know. "
She realizes she is playing with her hair. "Well, I'm usually a
size 5, sometimes a 6, depending on the clothes."
"Okay, Lisa. Thank you. I'll call you in for a meeting tomorrow
afternoon if this works out, okay?"
"Okay, sir." Jim hangs up, and then Lisa does too.
At 4:30 Cheryl came to her cubicle. Her face was bright with a
smile.
"Lisa, listen, I'm sorry I was so cross with you earlier."
Lisa looked down at her sweater and made sure her nipples were
still perky. Seeing that they were, she smiled back at Cheryl.
Cheryl continued, "You know, I've been thinking about what you
said, and I think I believe you. Actually, I kind of want to give
you a little help."
"Help? How?"
"Well . . . hey, can you take off a little early today? Maybe we
can get some drinks and perhaps dinner together."
Lisa realized that she was dying to leave work, and Cheryl's
friendly tone was alluring. "Okay."
Soon Cheryl and Lisa were walking through the downtown streets
together. Cheryl led Lisa into a parking garage, where her car, a
six-year-old luxury sedan, waited on the third floor.
"How can you afford to drive to work?" asked Lisa, "Parking is so
expensive around here."
"My husband gets two parking spots in this garage with his job."
"You're married?"
Cheryl smiled and showed off her engagement and wedding rings.
The diamond was so large and shiny, Lisa could hardly believe she
had never noticed it before. "It has its advantages," she said.
The drive out of the city was not quick, as they caught the
beginnings of the rush hour traffic. But they had plenty of time
to talk.
"I think I believe you that you're not dressing sexy to get the
promotion," said Cheryl, "although it was hard for me to believe
at first. After all, I'm hoping to get the same position, as I'm
sure you know."
"I'm sure you'll get it, Cheryl. You've been at the company
longer than me."
"I'm not so sure. Since you've been here you've really shaken
things up. We're all very impressed at the efficiency of your
department."
"Well, thank you," said Lisa. "It's just a matter of hiring the
right people . . . and putting in the extra hours when they're
needed."
Cheryl smiled. "We all know how often you're the last one out of
the office, Lisa. How late do you work most of the time?"
"Well, usually until 7pm, depending on how hungry I am. There's
always so much to do."
Cheryl laughed. "See, this is why I don't think you're dressing
sexy to get the promotion. You don't need to dress sexy.
Everyone knows you'll get it, despite my seniority."
Lisa tried to gauge Cheryl's emotions. Was she bitter? She
seemed perfectly friendly.
"But," continued Cheryl, "I'll bet you haven't got many friends."
Lisa thought for a moment. "Well," she said, "My best friend is
Christie; she was my roommate in college. Of course, she lives in
Denver now, but we see each other every now and then, when she
flies into town."
Cheryl glanced at Lisa, and then back at the road.
"And, well, there's . . . Joan."
"Who's Joan?"
"Joan's my therapist."
Cheryl laughed and put her right hand on Lisa's bare knee. "Lisa,
since you've come here you've been like a drill sergeant. You
bark orders at your employees and even your coworkers. You never
come to any of the office's social functions, except to the very
first Christmas party when you were first hired. As I recall,
that was the only time - until recently - that I ever saw you in
clothing that isn't described as 'stern corporate bland.' But
still it was prudish as hell. It's no wonder you haven't many
friends. But that's nothing that can't be changed."
Lisa felt the warmth of Cheryl's hand on her knee, and it felt
good.
"I'm sorry, Cheryl; it just didn't seem important."
"Don't be sorry, Lisa. The point is, it wouldn't make sense for
you to be dressing like you are to get a job. It's just not you.
Of course, it's not you to dress like this anyway. Do you often
go without a bra?"
Lisa looked down at her breasts and blushed, and then realized
that Cheryl was laughing.
"I doubt you have too much experience with men, either," said
Cheryl, gently squeezing Lisa's knee. "I don't mean that in a bad
way. I mean, clearly you aren't entirely inexperienced, but you
probably don't have as much time to date as you'd like."
Lisa listened carefully; as she knew Cheryl was right.
"I may have not fully understood what was going on between you and
Steve," Cheryl continued, "but nonetheless, you probably did hurt
him pretty badly. I'll be surprised if he comes to work all
week."
"But he was so assertive. I doubt he feels rejected. He's bigger
than that."
"See," said Cheryl, "you /don't/ have too much experience with
men. Steve's still wet behind the ears. He's what, 22? 23? But
don't worry. I'll help you get him back."
Lisa wasn't sure how to react. She read the license plate cover
of the car ahead of her. "Jesus loves you," it said, "no matter
what."
Cheryl continued, "I think it's good what you're doing. Good for
you. And for the rest of us."
Lisa looked out the passenger window at billboards crawling by.
"Hey," she asked, "where are we going, anyway?"
Cheryl flipped on her right turn signal. "To the mall," she said.
"I want to help you pick out the skirt you'll wear tomorrow."
