He reached her office in the executive suite and she was on the phone, barking orders at somebody. She sure looked the type, the build of a battleship...armored up in a mannish dark green suit. Despite the nature of the call, he couldn't help notice that she had some cleavage on display, as if anyone would want her oversized udders. Actually he noticed that the helmet hair had gone, replaced by something a little more natural-looking and feminine, a flip do that swayed gently as she paced back. I knew she was putting the phone between her thighs. She was sitting at her desk at work. I could see her office behind her, the window with a view of trees in the park, and a bookshelf full of binders. She was wearing a white button-up shirt with a camisole on under it, and a black skirt. Her desk was in a semi-private office near the entrance to the business she worked at. There was a large window next to her door, where she sat facing the hall. Anyone walking in or out had to walk past her. More

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