Rockefeller Center’s RCA building is at the throbbing core of New York City, Fiftieth Street and Fifth Avenue. Rush hours pulse with physical excitement; lunch hour sizzles with intrigue and possibility. The elegant shops and cafes cater to the surge of the corporate recess.
Two years ago I left the magic bubble of school to come to the big city and pursue my career as a cellist. To supplement my beginning endeavors as a freelancer I took a job as a paralegal in a fancy white shoe law firm. Despite the surrounding excitement, I found the interior of the corporate world to be ultra conservative and dry.
I left behind a world that is reputed for its promiscuity. Fucking is creative challenge, and we music students wear our hearts and lusts on our sleeves. Nothing could have prepared me for the shock of the sexlessness of the corporate world. Sure, I had consulted Dress for Success and was aware that in order to be competitive and be taken seriously as an equal in power and respect I needed to “desensualize” my appearance. I made my obligatory trip to the department stores, and brought home four suits, six white and pink blouses, two pairs of pumps (one black, one brown) and enough nude panty hose to choke a horse. What I didn’t figure was how neutral the corporate duds were going to make me feel. At the end of the day, I would race home and strip off all my grey and black and white and run straight for my hot pink silky bathrobe.
Before long I was getting fed up. The idea of not feeling sexy for eight hours a day was killing me. Not to mention that these were the hours when I was having the most contact with eligible young studs. One lonely night I went to bed wearing my favorite black lace crotchless panties with red satin trim, and a tight black lace underwire nippleless bra. I slipped in a pair of my favorite ben-wa balls, plugged in my vibrating egg and came endlessly thinking about the young litigation lawyer in the next office.
The resulting slumber was so blissful that I outslept the morning alarm, and had to slip straight into my monkey suit to make it to work by 9:00. It wasn’t until I had wished my office mate a good morning and sat down that I realized that my cunt lips were squeezed deliciously together by the elastic bands of my crotchless panties. I shifted in my seat and only with the resulting shudder realized that I was still stuffed with ben-wa balls. Boy! Was it going to be an interesting day! I resolved to scoot across the street and pick up some proletariat undergarments for a quick change at lunchtime and got down to my work.
But by the time lunch rolled around I was determined to go across the street to check out the lingerie department at Saks, but not for white cotton! The morning had been so much fun, rolling around my ben-wa balls, shifting in my chair to experiment with new sensations with the crotchless panties, rubbing the tips of my exposed nipples discreetly through my silk blouse. My schoolmates would have been proud. It was great! And the effect was not entirely unnoticed either. Mr. Litigator asked me out for a drink after work!
At lunch I cashed my weekly paycheck and headed straight for the undies. It never occurred to me to look for sexy lingerie at a traditional department store. I had always gotten my fun wear mail order. Department stores were for practical things!!! But now that my eyes were open I couldn’t believe the selection. I walked off with a leopard pattern body-suit with built in shoulder pads. A white stretchy lace camisole, a push-up bra in red satin with little white hearts on it and a matching G-string! All from Saks! It’s been a blast getting dressed for work ever since! And once every couple weeks I just go to refresh my selection and see what’s new, now that I’ve learned that dressing for success goes all the way down to the skin!
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