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The Sex She Wrote

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Evan has always had a passion for the written arts but will it be enough to make it at the most prestigious publishing company in the country? Victoria Laurent is the sexy, sophisticated owner and creator of La Maison d’ecriture or the writing house. Her company is the number one publisher in the state for erotic literature and she only accepts the best on her team. You have to endure endless hours of written porn and be able to concentrate enough to make sure there are no errors in the material. You have to go through a strict probationary period before you’re officially part of the team. Will Evan make it through with his sexy boss watching his every move or will he explode from the passion?

Erotica / Romance
Dayja Ray
4.7 1 review
Age Rating:

The Meeting

Tick...Tock. Tick...Tock. Tick...Tock. The hands of time turned slowly as I sat waiting in the cold, brightly-lit hallway. I jumped as I heard the familiar taps against the linoleum floor and looked up just in time to see her strut out of her office. Her walk was full of grace and sophistication as she held her head high and looked around for her next victim. My breath was frozen in my lungs as I anticipated who she would call next. I stared as she turned around; her long, brown curls swinging in her face as she stopped.

"Evan.", she spoke with determination as her gaze locked with mine. I was caught in a trace, unable to respond, but it was if she knew that it was me. The way her eyes found mine easily before she spoke my name... the way she said it so confidently. I stood up; snapping out of my trance as she walked away without waiting for a response. My eyes trailed the hallway before I followed and I realized I was the last person here... perhaps that was how she knew... or perhaps she has more powers that have yet to be exposed.

I caught up to her quickly; her evenly paced steps slow enough to follow. Her office was open as we approached and she motioned for me to enter first. My nervousness grew as I watched her close the door. Her fingers hesitantly grazed the lock but she decided against it and circled to take a seat at her desk. She scooted her chair back and crossed her legs, giving a slight view of the black lace panties she was wearing. Her olive green pencil skirt rode up her thighs and gave a perfect view of her toned caramel legs. I struggled to tear my eyes away from her and sat in front of her and tried to prepare myself for any questions. My heart was racing and I could feel my erection building already. She was far more attractive than any magazine article could prepare you for and I was struggling to focus. You were lucky if you entertained her enough for five minutes; but lucky didn't get you the job. It just meant you kept her interested longer than others before you failed her. Her gaze slowly trailed down my body before she spoke.

"Why are you here?", she questioned in a calm voice with a blank look on her face.

"Um...",I hesitated unsure whether or not this was a trick question... shouldn't she know why I was here? "I'm here for a job?..."

"Yes, but why are you here for that purpose?", she paused and held up two fingers; silencing me before I could respond. "This time when you give me an answer; Don't form it in a question. Speak it with confidence or get out of my office."

"You're the best to work for in this field and I want to be the greatest. It would be a pleasure to gain insight from you.", I stated proudly.

"Why do you think you are qualified to work here?", she questioned in the same calm voice.

"I have a Bachelor's degree in English, I've worked on my schools' newspaper since I was in middle school, and I write columns for the local paper. I know my way around written material.," I replied, listing my achievements in a boastful manner.

"This job requires haste, determination, self-motivation, excellent grammar skills, creativity, and class; that's just the basics. My company specializes in erotic material and you have to perfectly edit each material with no mistakes. Are you sure you can handle the pace?," she asked with a hint of edginess to her tone.

"I'm positive.," I gulped out.

She eyed me up and down before glancing at a timer on her desk, that missed my attention, and then looked back at me before speaking. "Congratulations you've lasted longer than five minutes in a interview with the 'un-impressionable wicked witch' or whatever it is the rejects are calling me now; Seven and half to be exact. Unfortunately, you didn't wow me.You came in here with the same boring facts as everyone else., ", she exclaimed, her tone changing from calm to fierce. "It takes more than a degree to do this job and it takes more than 'knowing your way around written material' to work with me. To work here, you must be passionate about what you do here. You must love doing this and you must always do it to your best abilities. There is no half-ass efforts here. This is not a place for rejected writers to come and use their English degree because they've failed in the real world. This is for those people who really love reading. Those who really have a strong passion for bringing perfection to anything ever written whether it was a joke on a gum wrapper or a movie script. Editing is the most important job in the field of publishing and I'm supposed to put you in charge of that in my company when you haven't shown me that you're dedicated?!", she finished with passion seeping for her voice. It was clear to tell that this is really her life. But this was my life too. I wasn't about to pushed out and told I couldn't have my dream. Not now when I'm so close. If she wants passion; she'll get passion.

I stood up from my seat and looked her in the eye. "You wanted to see if I'm dedicated to this field by asking me why I'm qualified for this job. The 'same boring facts' that I've said shout how dedicated I am to this. My years of school studying this without giving up shows my dedication. The numerous of years I've spent working on school's newspapers shows my dedication. And if anything, writing those columns for the local paper should show my love and appreciation for the art of writing and showcase my editorial skills at the same time. I'm so dedicated that I even took the time to bring you a few copies as well as copies of the different newspapers I've worked on.," I pulled the copies out of my briefcase and placed them on her desk. "I'm so dedicated that I came up here, on an early Saturday morning, waited hours in a cold hallway by myself, watched dozens of people walk outside of this house office with their heads hung low and tears in their eyes, and I still had the courage to walk in this office; face you, and ask for a job. You're not going to find someone more passionate about working here than me. If those articles don't 'wow' you enough, give me a trial period to show you that I'm more than capable of helping you run your company. This isn't just a job for me. This is my life. This is what I'm supposed to do with my life."

She stood up and tossed the newspapers back across the desk. "I read all of these already along with the other articles you have written and newspapers you have edited before you ever stepped foot into this office. I have seen your resumé so I'm well aware of your credentials. I don't let just anyone walk into this office with an interview. You're here because you caught my attention. This was just to see how you present yourself and if you're right for my company. I wanted to hear you speak. This job is much more than going over written work. This job is more than just being my editor. I need someone to go to meetings for me in my absence and be able to present my ideas in the way that I would present them without choking up. If you're hired here, you will be training to take over my company. You want to be the greatest? I'm giving you the best company to start it with. Are you ready for this kind of responsibility?"

"I was born ready.," I replied with no hesitation.

"Welcome to La maison d'écriture", she greeted. "I'm the head publisher Victoria Laurent. You can meet the rest of the team during lunch at Maggiano's tomorrow; 12 o'clock. Come to my office Monday morning at 8am sharp ready to work;dressed in business attire. Bring me a caramel latte with a double shot of espresso; extra caramel and extra whip-cream. You might want to bring one for yourself too because we have a busy day."

"Thank you so much for this opportunity. You won't regret it.," I shook her hand and walked out of the office with my head held high. I used my briefcase to cover my erection and walking quickly out of the building. I just yelled at the fiercest publisher and editor in the country and survived... the power I feel right now is mesmerizing.
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Samia: Merci encore pour cette histoire j ai lu tout tes livres jusqu'à maintenant et je n est pas était déçu merci pour cela et continue se que tu fait car tu a un incroyable talent merci.

Annette: I like how she uses descriptive words you feel like your there. Watchung a movie. I give her 5 stars

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