Jack had a BMW company car, and as he pulled into the yard my heart was beating like a drum. He placed my bag in the back as I got into the passenger seat, and then we were away before anyone had even known we were there. As we accelerated away from the depot, I had this enormous feeling of freedom, of exhilaration, like I was setting off on an adventure, which in reality I actually was.
I was a working class girl, my family had never had much money. My dad had always had second hand cars, old Fords or Vauxhalls. I know it sounds daft today, but I’d never been in a BMW before. They were much more expensive than regular cars of the day back then. It was an automatic, it had leather seats, electric windows and loads of other toys most cars didn’t have. As we joined the M5 motorway and headed north, we seemed to simply pass everything on the slip road like a bolt of lightning. It was heaven. I felt like a princess being driven along in that car.
But most of all, the feeling of being alone in the car with Jack was intoxicating. Our conversation seemed easy and relaxed, telling him what I’d done at the weekend, stuff about work and our colleagues and so on. From time to time he glanced across at me, and then after about 10 minutes he said casually…
“You look incredible by the way”
It wouldn’t have been possible for me to feel better than I did then. I’d spent a lot of time to make sure I looked my best. I’d thought about everything I was going to wear, spent ages on my hair (like girls do), and everything else. And it had been worth it.
“Thank you” I blushed
While he concentrated on the traffic, I looked down at myself to appreciate my efforts (we girls do that, guys, when you aren’t looking!) The dress looked even better than it did in the shop. It hugged me everywhere, but it had a kind of elegance that prevented it looking too suggestive. But to say it followed every curve I had would be an understatement. It was on the verge of acceptable for a business meeting, but I didn’t care. I wanted to be desired. And as any book on sexual psychology will tell you, girls get turned on by being desired.
I don’t have big tits. I have a small handful, as I’ve been told

Being small too, boob guys tend not to be interested. But I do have good legs, and a girl always makes use of her best assets. I’ve never been one for tights (what Americans call pantyhose). I don’t like them, and never really have, although I will wear them for special occasions. I’d rather wear socks, or better still, go with bare legs if I’m wearing a skirt or a dress. That day was no exception. I’d shaved my legs twice and moisturised them until they were soft and smooth. I didn’t need fake tan, my skin is a natural olive tone anyway. And as we drove along, I was conscious of his attention occasionally wandering in my direction, and especially my legs. The dress was quite tight around my thighs, accentuating their shape. Those shoes were just bloody gorgeous, and that low inside upper was tantalising. The anklet chain couldn’t help but draw the eye (which was why I bought it).
And as we drove along in the busy morning traffic, the exhilaration of being alone with him in the car was making me feel so excited. The domination thing of being driven around in cars with guys when I was younger came back to me, mostly with me having no shoes on, and the idea of him doing that with me started to turn me on even more. But all the while he remained cool and business like, and all I got instead was traffic, and lots of it. By the time we got to Birmingham, the motorway had started to snarl up, and I found myself looking out at people in other cars and wondering what they had to look forward to today. After a considerable delay, we got clear of Birmingham, and eventually stopped near Stafford for coffee and something to eat.
We then pushed on, up past Stoke on Trent, and into Cheshire, eventually coming off the motorway and onto trunk routes for the last 30 minutes or so. We eventually arrived at the client’s offices at around 12.30. The meeting wasn’t until 1.00pm, so we killed 20 minutes with a cigarette break in a nearby pull in, while Jack explained to me who was who within the client’s team. Then, just as we were about to get back in the car, he took my arm and pulled me firmly too him. He kissed me passionately, and when he broke off the surprise left me like a rabbit caught in headlights. He had a dark wantonness in his eyes as he whispered into my ear
“You belong to me now”
I flushed deeply as a wave of arousal surged through me, and I stammered a reply. I can’t remember exactly what I said, but it was a pretty breathless confirmation that it was absolutely true. And that was Jack. We were about to go into a meeting, my first one, with a big client and important people I’d never met before. And 5 minutes before it, he turns me into a hot and flushed teenage girl again. But that was just the start of it.
We went into reception and signed in then we were led to a boardroom on the first floor. Jack began to prepare and I, somewhat self-consciously, took out a pad and pencil. The client’s people came in a short while later, two guys, the commercial manager and the plant manager, and a woman, the finance director. The two guys were pretty much run of the mill operators, but it was clear that the woman, Claire, was the one in charge of the proceedings. She was a smallish, attractive woman in her 40s, well dressed and sharp as a knife.
There was a large boardroom table with leather chairs, and Jack and I sat opposite each other at one end, while they sat in at the other end with Claire in the middle. A feature of this table was that it was narrower at each end, and its legs comprised of two solid wooden panels that extended the table’s full width. So that the two seats at each end, where Jack and I were sitting, were separated from by this panel. It looked something like this >
There was a pretty extensive agenda, and the meeting started with Jack giving them an update on deliveries and the forward plan, bearing in mind they had now over 100 machines on order. This was followed by Claire updating everyone on the finance plan and payment mechanism (for which there were commercially advantageous terms because of the order value), and then the commercial manager did a power point presentation on handover procedure of new machines and the disposal process for the older machines that were being de-fleeted.
It was during Claire’s update that I felt Jacks lower leg move behind mine. His face remained expressionless, but I felt him move his leg a little more, so that I was unable to move my foot backwards. This sudden contact early in the meeting made me jump a little, and as I looked across at him, his eyes slowly motioned backwards. Unable to pull my foot back, I pulled my chair in a little so that I was closer to him, and a moment or two later I saw him lean forward, placing his chin on his left hand, as if he were listening more intently to Claire. It wasn’t until I felt a sensation around the back of my calf that I realised his right hand was under the table. Now I realised what he was doing. The panel meant that no one sitting at the other end could see what was going on under the table! With my eyes widening, he then slowly lifted his hand towards him, so that my left leg slipped over his knee and my foot was in his lap. His eyes narrowed a little, and he glanced down briefly to the right, then flicked his eyes upwards. Obediently I lifted my right leg and felt him take my ankle, so that I was now sitting with my feet in his lap under the table!
I bit my lip softly as his hand tightened around the heel of my shoes, and then I felt them being slowly and teasingly pulled off. I opened my eyes wide as he let them drop carelessly to the floor in front of him. There is a distinctive, hollow sort of sound a woman’s shoe makes when it hits even a carpeted floor, and one of the guys looked around curiously, possibly knowing what it was, but outwardly nothing seemed out of place. I took a sharp intake of breath as I felt his fingers almost imperceptibly caress the instep of my feet, causing Claire to glance momentarily at me. I put my hand over my mouth apologetically as she continued, but the feeling of having my feet fondled under the table was tingling up my spine and making it difficult for me to sit still. I felt so self-conscious and so turned on, sitting there with my feet in his lap while the meeting went on around me. I could barely concentrate and my handwriting looked like a spiders scrawl as I tried to make it look like I was there for a purpose. This went on for some time, until Claire finished, and then it was Jacks turn to answer her questions. At this point Jack suddenly stood up, and I was left flushed and with no shoes on again for the rest of the meeting because they were under Jacks chair.
After the Commercial managers presentation, another middle aged guy from their operations team came in to talk about the attachments (buckets, grabs, hydraulic outlets) needed for certain orders, and he sat right next to me. After he’d said his bit, he stayed while the meeting went into a long Q&A session which Jack fielded. It was hard to sit for long with my legs stretched out and take notes at the same time, so eventually I had to tuck my feet under my chair. After a while this guy must have noticed that I was barefoot and kept looking down while I sat there self-consciously.
At long last, after 2 and a half hours, the meeting wound up and everyone stood up. I had to stay sitting down and pretend to be finishing the notes, because if I stood up I’d appear to be 4 inches shorter than when I sat down

Jack left me like that, taking his time to pack away his stuff until everyone had left the room, when I finally got my shoes back.
When I’d first set eyes on Jack, I knew instinctively that we’d be compatible. I don’t know how, but I knew it somehow. When we got back in the car, I was simply so horny. Not many words were spoken, but his eyes bored into me with a look that told me everything I’d hoped about him was going to be true. I didn’t know what awaited me when we were alone in our room, but whatever it was, I couldn’t wait for it. That last half hour drive to the hotel was the longest half hour of the day.
Finally, we arrived at the hotel, a nice place in the countryside with a long, cinder drive lined by iron railings. We parked in the car park, and I waited in the car nervously while he went to check in. At last, he came back, collected our bags, and led me up the back stairs to a room on the first floor.