Ginny stepped back defensively, "And just what do you mean by that? I can't show you any more without taking my clothes off, and I'm certainly not going to do that!"
Bondman's joviality suddenly vanished, "Now listen to me, Mrs. Dennison, you're the one who's looking for work, not me. I don't need a job; so either you follow instructions and cut out all this modesty crap, or you can just go somewhere else and I'll give this job to the next girl who walks through that door!" he shouted, aiming his hand toward the closed door to his outer office.
Ginny suddenly felt very humiliated, and a hint of a tear began to form in the corner of her eye. "I… I just can't do that, Mr. Bondman, I'm not that kind of a girl… I just can't… I mean, I understand what you're saying, but I just can't undress like some common tramp. I'm a married woman."
"I understand, Ginny… I understand, but you've got to accept my position, too. I can't risk blowing this account. It's one of my regulars, and they always pay on time. I tell you what…" He sat back down on his rickety chair. "I'll turn my back so you won't be embarrassed, and you just strip down to your panties. It'll all be over before you know it, and you can even keep your eyes closed so's you won't blush, how's that?"
She could feel the color filling her cheeks at even the thought of what he was suggesting. "I don't know… I just don't think I could do it."
But Bondman was persistent; he didn't intend to miss out on this at any cost. If it took him all day to persuade her to drop that skirt, he'd keep trying until he got a good look at that luscious young body of hers. Even under the blouse and skirt, he could tell she was really built…
"Okay, I'm turning my back," he said, "Now you go ahead and do as I told you. Let me know when you're ready."
"Well, maybe…" Ginny nervously fingered the buttons on her blouse, tossing his ultimatum back and forth in her confused mind. That job may be the only chance I get, she told herself, and I'd be an idiot to mess up my one and only chance…
Mindlessly, she unbuttoned the buttons one by one, until the thin blouse was open to her narrow waist. She felt a little chill as the air brushed over her bare belly; and despite herself, she could feel her tiny nipples begin to harden under the taut nylon of her bra. With both hands, she reached around in back and unfastened the single catch on her blue corduroy mini-skirt and tugged on the zipper until it came down. She let the skirt fall to her feet, then lifted it up on one foot and placed it on the chair beside her. The sheer gauze of her pantyhose allowed her white panties to show through clearly, and she was suddenly stricken with the urge to grab up her things and run. But she was determined to see this thing through, no matter how hard it was. "Okay, you can turn around now," she whispered, half-hoping he wouldn't hear.
Marty Bondman spun around quickly in his chair, and his eyes popped open wide with disbelief as he gazed on the trembling, blushing beauty standing before him. He took in the delicious spectacle slowly, from head to toe – the smooth, unblemished flow of her neck where it curved down to the jutting, ripely formed melons of her breasts, swelling proudly under the sheerness of her nylon brassiere; the trim inward curve of her waist, her perfectly arching hips, and certainly not least, her long, well-proportioned legs, blossoming in the soft fullness of her thighs, then again in the supple gracefulness of her well-turned calves. "Wow! You're too much!" was all he could manage.
Ginny stared down at the carpet, her face flushed with color. "Please, Mr. Bondman… don't talk like that. I just want to get this over with as quickly as possible."
He didn't take his eyes off her for even an instant. "Sure, honey… It'll be all over before you know it. But you've got to show me more than that. How about those pantyhose? And that bra? I've got to know what kind of merchandise I'm sending out of here. Now, I'll turn my back again and…"
"You needn't bother," interrupted Ginny, suddenly impatient at his treating her like a child. She reached behind with both hands and unclasping the three catches on her bra, "I'll show you what you want." She blinked back the stinging tears of embarrassment in her burning eyes and loosened the snaps, letting her bra slide down over her bare arms. Her proud young breasts shivered in the open air, and she could feel her nipples harden instantly as Bondman's cold, appraising stare fell on them. They stood up firmly, without a trace of sagginess, her rigid, pink nipples thrusting straight ahead boldly, like two tiny eyes returning his eager gaze.
His eyes followed the twin, jutting bulges of her ripe breasts, then down along the smooth, unblemished expanse of her flat belly, past the puckered indentation of her navel…
"How about the pantyhose?" he asked, almost afraid to push his good luck any further.
She complied unhesitantly, catching the tight elastic waistband and peeling it down over the gentle swell of her trim, narrow hips. The top band of her panties caught in the gauzelike material, but she made no effort to separate the two garments. As one, she pulled them down over her soft white thighs and down past her knees, exposing the dark patch of down at the bottom of her belly. She pulled the hose away from her panties and began to pull the taut, pale blue fabric back up to cover her nakedness.
"Hold it… Just pull 'em both down. You might as well show me everything you've got, honey!" Bondman was leaning over his desk for a closer look, his eyes glazed with growing lust as he eyed the gorgeous young woman peeling down to bare flesh right before his eyes. He couldn't believe his good fortune; most of the girls balked at his proposition, and he just sent them on their job interviews anyway. But this one had a lot to learn. It was more than obvious she was new to the job hunting game; he would have known that even if the application hadn't said so.
"B – But you didn't say I had to take off everything, Mr. Bondman," protested Ginny, her voice cracking in her humiliation. Her cheeks were bright red in two patches that looked like someone had brushed her with two strokes of a paint brush.
"Now don't argue with me, Ginny," replied Bondman, loosening his collar and tie as perspiration rolled in beads down his stubby neck, "I know what's best for you, so just do what I say."
"Well… okay, I guess," she answered, gripping her panties with her thumbs and yanking them down with her pantyhose until she stepped free, leaving absolutely nothing to shield her youthful nakedness from his eager, probing eyes.
She was the most deliciously perfect specimen of womanhood he'd seen in a long time; not since that young surfer chick from San Diego he'd had the unforgettable pleasure of balling right here on this battered, torn sofa. He grinned widely as he anticipated his plans for this delectable young beauty. Her flesh was gorgeously tanned, save for the milky-white softness of her inner thighs, and the pink-capped mounds of her protruding, ripely bulging tits. He tried to imagine what that warm, moist inviting crevice between her long legs would be like… he knew it would be tight and hot – it would just have to be… and those gracefully long stems would be so perfect entwined around his back as he furrowed wide that sweet warm slit of hers until she begged for mercy. But he could see she was no shop-worn barmaid, not some broad he could just climb on like so many of the others he regularly found jobs for. He knew this young filly was something special, and he'd have to plan his moves ever so carefully…
"Yes, I think you'll do nicely," he said forcing an air of strained seriousness to his voice, though his breathing had grown so fast he could scarcely speak without gasping. "Now just turn around for me – slowly – so I can get a good look."