There she sat now in a white blouse, but it was utterly unlike any of the boxy white blouses of late. This one was crisply fitted and cut perfectly and the top two button were open, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of white lace and smooth flesh. Her trim navy blue pencil skirt was over the knee but not even remotely modest: it was molded to her incredible body like a second skin and had a tightly-cinched in waist that emphasized her breasts even more, making him wonder if she had a corset on. Peeking out from under the desk were stacked high heels in a deep chestnut brown that made her ankles look delicate and sweetly-curved.
It was a polished and professional outfit, tasteful and expensive – and the whole effect took his breath away. It left exactly nothing to his imagination or memory,
