I work at a large brokerage firm. I don’t actually do investing, but doa lot of background investigations of prospective companies that we invest in, for brokers and business people at work. Recently we had begun to trim the fat so to speak, with guidance from the main office. They wanted to cut all expenses that weren’t essential to running things, and I was spared, as I’m a one-man operation. After the main office went through their down sizing period, they foundother ways of saving money, too. Some of the ideas sucked ass, and some of them were actually good plans that should have been implemented a long time ago. One of those things that I liked was that they didn’t want to keep paying my mileage for commuting to the office, when I could do the majority of my research from my home. That’s home I became a work at home employee, having only to travel in to the office once or twice a month unless otherwise requested. If they needed to get something to me, they usually hired a messengerservice as it could involve sensitive or confidential information they didn’t want to trust to a fax machine. That is how I met Ashley. She worked for the messenger service the office had contracted to shuttle documents to and from me, so on the average I got to see her twice a week…more often if God was smiling on me! She was such a wonderful treat; not only for my eyes, but for my heart and mind as well. Even now as I think back to that first morning I met her; I can still picture the way she looked standing at my door with the sun coming up behind her… * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * …I had heard the doorbell ringing around 7am and I remember thinkingthat it was awfully early for one of my friends or neighbors to be visiting as I hurried to answer it. I opened the door to find an absolutely stunning young lady standing on my stoop. She was from the messenger service, and according to the nametag on her uniform her name was Ashley D. I said, “Hello, can I help you?” “Yes, Hello, I’ve got an envelope for a…let me see her,” she said asshe searched her clipboard. I realized I was checking her out as she searched for a name, but I couldn’t help but stare. She was so pretty! “Ah, here it is, a Mr. J. Paulz.” “Yes, that’s me,” I said. Then I realized she’d been holding the largeenvelope out in front of herself for me to take. I felt myself blush as I reached for it and heard a soft giggle as she noticed. I took it and was rewarded with her amazing smile. “You’ll need to sign for this, here,” she said as she pointed to a lineon her clipboard. I took the pen and tried to oblige, but the thing wouldn’t write. “Why don’t you come in while I get a new pen,” I said as I turned andheaded for my office without waiting for her reply. I signed the form there, and as I returned to the front of the house, taking my time in order to really look her over. She was tall, standing about 5′10″ by my guess, as I was 6′2″ and she was nearly that high due to her boots and my bare feet. She had on a baseball cap, but her blond hair was tied in a ponytail that hung through the back of the cap, still falling a little past her shoulders. It reminded me of fine silk that had a natural shine to it, and was as golden as the sun coming up over the treetops behind her. She had big blue eyes surrounded by long dark lashes that sparkled like the stars on a hot summers night. Perfect lips…just full enough to make you daydream about what its like to be the guy kissing them, or better yet to be kissed by them. I could tell by the way she filled out her uniform shirt that she was ingreat shape, too. Probably from all the walking and running stairs that came with a job like hers. I could see by the length of her pants she had very long legs. Her short-sleeved knit top wasn’t tucked into her pants, and I could still tell she wasn’t lacking in the chest area either. It was harder to tell when looking at loose fitting clothing, but if I had to venture a guess I’d say a 36 or 38 C. Either she was wearing a tight sports bra or her breasts were extraordinarily firm, because they didn’t seem to bounce as she walked. She couldn’t have weighed more than 135 pounds as I wondered just how young she was. She… Read the rest of Ashley, my Private Messenger
Author: GhostWriter
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