Read Online NSFW (Regular Sex Issue #6) by Kitty French - Free Book Online Page A

now? Or would
he be shocked and push me away; fire me even? Putting the moves on your boss is
certainly a sackable offence. God, how I’d love to get him in the sack.
Thankfully, he opens his eyes before I can do something stupid and risk my job.
    ‘Yes,’ he
confirms. ‘All set. Is the meeting room ready?’
    I nod.
    ‘Good girl,’ he
says, and then glances at his watch. ‘Let’s show them what we’re made of today. 
    Back at my desk,
I ponder his words. Show them what we’re made of. I wonder...
     
    I meet the delegates
in the atrium when they arrive right on time, six in all, four men and two
women. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but they all look like perfectly
normal, middle of the road people. And they’re all fully dressed, which wasn’t
a given for this crowd.
    ‘This way please.’
I smile warmly. ‘Mr. Spencer is waiting for you in the boardroom.’
    I lead them into
the lift, and as we ascend I make polite small talk.
    ‘Has it warmed up
outside now? It was bitter when I came into work earlier.’ I’m silently
wondering what naturists do in cold weather. Huddle up? I listen to their
murmured replies and nod appropriately as the mirrored lift doors slide open. I
lead them along the plush corridor to the meeting room and click open the door
handle. I know Anderton is already inside, I left him there not five minutes
previously when we made a final run through to make sure everything is in
place.
    The presentation
Anderton has spent the best part of the week preparing? Cued.
    Coffee? Brewed
and aromatic.
    Morning pastries,
yoghurt and fresh fruit? Bought and artfully arranged on a platter in the
centre of the large, rectangular glass table.
    ‘The delegates
have arrived, Mr. Spencer,’ I murmur, and then step aside to hold the door for
them to file in and take their seats around the table.
    Anderton takes
one end and I take the other so that I can operate the slides and clips that
accompany his presentation.
    Every eye in the
room is on him as he begins to speak, and I settle in and soak up the pleasure
of watching him do what he does best. Natural charm and charisma drips from
Anderton Spencer like honey from a spoon. There’s a quiet authority to his
voice, a rich confidence, a trustworthy aura that says you can believe in me
because I’m a man who knows what he’s doing. I cross my legs under the table
and squeeze my thighs together. I bet he knows what he’s doing in bed.
    I click the
presentation closed as his speech draws to an end and he throws it open to the
floor for questions.
    Their responses
are guardedly optimistic, and then Mr. Barone, their mahogany tanned senior
partner, clears his throat.
    ‘Well, Mr.
Spencer, I have to say you talk a good game. I’m impressed with what I’ve heard
and seen here today so far.’
    There’s a general
murmur of assent, and I watch one of the women delicately tear a croissant and
pop a piece into her mouth.
    ‘There is one
area that you haven’t touched on yet though,’ Barone sounds thoughtful,
twirling the chunky gold signet ring he’s wearing on his pinky finger.
    Anderton watches
him with a clear, open expression. ‘Shoot,’ he says, encouraging Barone to go
on.
    ‘Well, as you
know, we’re a naturist organisation. We don’t wear clothes unless it’s
absolutely necessary, and certainly never on site at the village.’
    Anderton nods,
completely unfazed. ‘I fully respect that.’
    ‘But will your
workers? Your construction workers, your plumbers, in fact any of your workers
who will be on site? Does your organisation understand our organisation’s specialist
needs? ‘
    ‘Are you asking
me if everyone in my employ is comfortable about seeing naked bodies, Mr.
Barone? Because if you are, then I can assure you that the answer is yes. Obviously
I can’t promise you that my on site workers will be able to comply with a
requirement to be naked themselves though - I’m sure you understand there are certain
health and