Richard looked up from his tablet when he heard two light knocks on the office door.
Christine appeared at the doorway with her usual impeccable posture. The sound of her high heels marked each step on the wooden floor as she walked toward his desk.
Richard rested his elbows on the desk and interlaced his fingers, watching her for a moment before answering.
“Yes. Tonight we’ll have a happy hour after the meeting with the Northbridge people.”
Christine tilted her head slightly.
“To celebrate or to persuade?”
A faint smile appeared on Richard’s face.
“To persuade. The contract isn’t signed yet.”
She nodded, already understanding the role she would probably play in that situation.
Richard leaned back in his chair, studying her with the calculating look he usually had when discussing strategy.
“But I need you to go… prepared.”
Christine crossed one leg over the other in front of his desk.
“I want you dressed in a way that really stands out. Something elegant… but very sexy.”
She raised an eyebrow, amused.
“That’s not exactly new in my job description.”
“Today I need you to put in a little extra effort,” he said calmly.
Christine waited for him to continue.
“Think of a gray blouse… light, loose on the body. A fabric that falls naturally, with a deep neckline.”
He made a small gesture with his hand, as if drawing the shape in the air.
“Something that, when you move… or lean forward to talk to someone… lets your beautiful breasts be clearly visible.”
Richard paused briefly before adding:
“I noticed something during the meeting this morning.”
“Their director could hardly hide how interested he was in your bust while you were presenting those reports.”
Christine let out a small smile at the corner of her mouth.
Richard continued calmly.
“So let’s use that to our advantage. If you show up wearing that blouse… and lean forward a little while talking to him… I’m almost certain the negotiation will become much easier.”
“And remember one thing. The happy hour will be completely informal. No meeting table, no presentations.”
Christine listened attentively.
“So I can move around… talk to him.”
“Exactly. I want you to interact with him a lot. Make him think you’re interested. That talking to him is the most interesting part of the evening.”
Christine placed a hand on the desk and leaned forward slightly, looking directly at Richard.
“Interested… to what extent?”
Richard understood exactly what she meant.
“How far should I go with the insinuations… and the provocations?”
Richard remained silent for a moment, as if weighing his answer.
“That I’ll leave up to your judgment.”
He kept his eyes fixed on hers.
“But you need to understand something. This would be the most important contract the company has signed in the last ten years.”
Richard then added seriously:
“And if you manage to secure that signature… you’ll receive a bonus bigger than anything you’ve ever seen.”
Christine remained silent for a few seconds, thinking. Then she asked another question, this time even more directly.
“And if he tries some kind of physical contact? A hug… or standing very close while we talk?”
Richard sighed lightly, as if he knew that part of the conversation was more delicate.
“Christine… there are things that are very difficult for me to ask of you.”
He paused briefly before continuing.
“But if, in that moment, you think that letting him put his hand on your thigh… or leaning in to whisper something in your ear… might encourage him to sign the contract…”
The office fell silent for a few seconds.
Christine held his gaze, but inside something more complicated was shifting. As she listened to those instructions—spoken with the same calm tone he usually used when discussing targets and contract clauses—a strange feeling began to grow.
For a moment, she wondered whether, in Richard’s eyes at that moment, she was still a trusted assistant… or simply another negotiation asset.
A tool placed on the table along with the numbers and proposals.
And the silent conclusion that formed in her mind was unsettling: if it came to that, Richard might actually be willing to watch her go to bed with the negotiator to secure that signature.
Christine took a slow breath.
The smile that appeared on her face now was different—more restrained, almost cold.
She slowly stood up from the chair and picked up her bag.
When she spoke, her voice carried a sharper edge.
“Don’t worry, Richard… you’ll have your contract signed.”
He watched her in silence.
Christine continued, looking straight at him:
“I’ll do whatever it takes… including things that could make him very happy.”
She paused briefly, then added with clear irony:
“Hugs… his hand on my thigh… maybe kisses… or maybe I’ll go to bed with him, right, Richard?”
Without waiting for an answer, Christine turned and walked toward the door.
She opened it quickly—and as she left, she slammed the door hard, the sound echoing down the corridor and making her irritation unmistakably clear.
Richard simply watched as she walked away. He admired the exuberance of that perfect body, and those hips swaying within a very short, tight black leather skirt that covered nothing more than the bare essentials.
Inside the office, Richard remained seated for a few seconds, staring at the closed door.
Then, slowly, a smile appeared on his face.
He knew Christine far too well.
He knew that irritation was part of her temperament—that she needed that moment of indignation to release the tension of the situation.
And he also knew something else with absolute certainty: Christine would never go to bed with that negotiator.
She would know how to guide the conversation, spark interest, keep the man engaged… but without ever crossing the line she herself had established.
Richard leaned back in his chair again.
In a few hours, he thought, the contract would probably be signed.
And after that, everything would return to normal.
They would open a bottle of champagne, toast to the success… and end up relaxing together in the jacuzzi of the hotel suite, celebrating another deal closed exactly the way they always did.
The hotel bar had the typical atmosphere of business meetings that tried to look informal. Dim lighting, soft music, and the constant murmur of conversations among executives scattered across the tables.
Richard and Christine walked in together.
She held his arm naturally as they crossed the room. To anyone watching from a distance, they looked completely at ease in each other’s company.
Christine had followed Richard’s instructions from earlier that day exactly.
Her gray blouse was light and loose, falling softly over her body. The neckline was deep—almost scandalous—and generously exposed Christine’s full breasts. Whenever she moved or leaned forward, the fabric shifted slightly, revealing the shape of her bust in a way that was difficult to ignore.
Her red lipstick made her confident smile stand out even more.
Across the room, Mr. Thompson looked up as soon as they entered.
His gaze briefly passed over Richard.
But it stopped on Christine.
And it didn’t take long before it drifted down toward her neckline.
“Richard!” he said, raising his glass. “I was waiting for you.”
Richard shook his hand and the three of them sat down.
When Thompson greeted Christine, he held her hand for a few seconds longer than necessary.
“I’m glad you came,” he said.
“I hope I won’t disappoint,” she replied with a smile.
The conversation began casually—comments about travel, business, and the city.
But Christine quickly noticed something Richard had already seen during the morning meeting.
Thompson’s eyes kept returning to the neckline of her blouse, clearly impressed by how her breasts were so generously displayed by the deep cut of the garment.
He tried to be discreet… but he couldn’t stop looking.
At one point, Christine leaned forward to pick up her glass of wine. The fabric of her blouse opened slightly more with the movement.
Thompson followed the gesture without even trying to hide his interest.
“Richard… you’ve always known how to bring interesting company to a meeting.”
Christine rested her elbow lightly on the table.
“I hope that’s a compliment.”
As the conversation continued, Thompson kept stealing glances at her neckline, as though it were difficult to focus on anything else.
A few minutes later, Christine lifted her left hand to brush a strand of hair away from her face. The light reflected off the wedding ring on her finger.
She repeated the gesture a little later, and this time Thompson noticed.
His eyes paused on the ring for a moment.
Then a small smile appeared on his face—as if that detail somehow made the situation even more intriguing.
“So someone else got there first,” he commented.
“Life sometimes works that way.”
Thompson took a sip of his whiskey and looked at her again.
And once more his eyes drifted toward the deep neckline of her blouse.
“And your husband… doesn’t mind you having drinks with two men in a hotel bar… dressed like that?”
Christine tilted her head slightly.
“My husband trusts me. Besides, Richard is my husband’s best friend.”
She took a small sip of wine.
“And besides… we’re only talking.”
Thompson laughed quietly.
“That’s a very generous definition of ‘just talking.’”
The conversation continued for several minutes, becoming increasingly filled with playful compliments.
At one point, Christine noticed Thompson had moved his chair slightly closer to hers.
Under the table, almost impossible to see from the outside, Thompson placed his hand on her thigh.
Christine noticed immediately.
But she kept her expression calm and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened.
As they spoke, Thompson still seemed unable to stop glancing toward her neckline whenever she moved or leaned forward slightly.
“I’m curious about something you mentioned earlier… about Richard and your husband being best friends. The two of you seem so… close.”
Christine immediately understood the implication.
She leaned slightly toward him, as if sharing a small secret.
“Well, of course… as my husband’s best friend… Richard enjoys certain privileges.”
Thompson looked even more intrigued.
A few minutes later, Christine stood up.
“Excuse me… I’m going to the restroom to touch up my lipstick.”
As she passed Richard, she leaned down and kissed him.
Officially it looked like a kiss on the cheek.
But anyone watching—and Thompson certainly was—could see that her lips landed on half of Richard’s mouth.
Christine walked toward the hallway.
When she returned a few minutes later, her red lipstick perfectly refreshed, Thompson couldn’t resist teasing her.
“So… among the privileges of your husband’s best friend… are kisses on the lips included?”
Christine leaned toward his ear.
“That’s just one of the privileges of my beloved husband’s best friend…”
Then she added with a suggestive smile:
“Perhaps the least impressive one.”
The conversation continued.
Christine could tell Thompson was clearly interested… but still not completely convinced.
She raised her eyes and looked at Richard.
“Richard… why are you so quiet? Of all people, you’re the one who usually sees things coming.”
Richard understood the message.
Soon afterward, Christine finished her wine and turned to him.
“Boss, dear… perhaps we should leave Mr. Thompson a little more at ease now. After all, he probably has other people to talk to. Besides, he already has all the information he needs if he decides to sign the contract.”
Then she smiled at Richard.
“So now I want you to take me dancing.”
Richard stood and offered his hand.
They walked to the dance floor.
As they danced, Christine brought her face very close to Richard’s—their lips almost touching.
“So what’s missing for that signature?” he asked quietly.
Christine replied softly.
“Honestly… I hope a dance will solve it. Because I’m not willing to do anything beyond that.”
“When this happy hour ends… it’s you I want to go to the hotel suite with.”
Richard glanced toward Thompson.
Then he made a discreet gesture inviting him to join them.
Thompson walked toward the dance floor.
Richard smiled and stepped aside.
“I think Christine is better company on the dance floor than I am.”
He danced with clear enthusiasm, whispering compliments near her ear while holding her by the waist and back. And even while dancing, his eyes still searched, whenever possible, for another glimpse down the generous neckline of her blouse, clearly fascinated by Christine’s breasts.
Christine allowed the compliments and kept her elegant smile.
But when Thompson tried to move further, sliding his hand up along the sides of her body, Christine reacted with quiet grace, bringing her arms closer to her body and subtly blocking the gesture.
Without stopping the dance.
Without embarrassing him.
Thompson understood immediately.
“You really are a mysterious woman, Christine.”
“Perhaps just patient,” she replied.
They danced a few moments longer.
But Thompson already seemed to have reached a conclusion.
If anything was going to happen between them… it would not be that night.
“I think we’ve danced enough.”
Christine nodded lightly.
Thompson looked toward the table where the contract lay.
“Perhaps it’s time we go back and take care of the less interesting part of the evening.”
The three of them returned to the table.
Thompson pulled out his chair and sat down.
For a few seconds he remained silent, looking at the documents.
Then he extended his hand.
“Richard… I think you’d better give me that contract again.”
Richard calmly slid the document across the table.
Christine watched quietly, holding her wine glass.
Thompson opened the contract and began flipping through the pages.
He reread several sections carefully.
Richard appeared calm as well, though his eyes followed every movement.
Thompson reached the final page.
As he gave the contract one last reading, Christine leaned slightly closer to look at the document. In that movement, one of her breasts brushed lightly against his arm—the same arm holding the pen.
Thompson immediately noticed the contact.
For a moment he looked up at her.
Christine maintained her calm smile, as if nothing unusual had happened.
That seemed to be the final push.
Thompson looked back down at the document.
The sound of the pen moving across the paper was brief—but decisive.
A small smile appeared on Richard’s face.
Christine lifted her glass slightly.
“So… it seems we have an agreement.”
Thompson closed the contract and slid the papers back toward Richard.
Richard raised his glass.
“I think that deserves a toast.”
Christine raised her wine glass.
The three glasses met at the center of the table.
And in that moment, the contract was officially signed.
Richard and Christine left the hotel bar a few minutes after the last toast. The place was still crowded, the happy hour buzz continued loudly, but for both of them, the night had already served its purpose.
As they walked through the lobby towards the elevators, Christine let out a small, satisfied smile.
Richard held the folder with the contract under his arm. His other arm guided Christine by the waist.
--"We did it. And with a certain… strategic help."
She gave him an amused look.
-- "Sensually strategic."
They both laughed discreetly.
The elevator arrived. They entered and the doors closed, isolating them from the noise of the lobby. For the first time that night, they were truly alone.
Christine leaned her back against the mirrored wall of the elevator, bent one knee to rest the sole of her high heel on the mirror, and lowered her arms, placing her hands flat on the cold glass surface, still with that confident air she had maintained throughout the negotiation.
-- "Thompson could barely concentrate on the contract," she commented.
-- "I noticed. He couldn't stop looking at your cleavage."
Christine raised an eyebrow slightly and smiled.
-- "Just like you. So your strategy worked."
-- "It worked perfectly."
Richard had an impulse to hug Christine right there in the elevator, but the elevator soon stopped on the suite floor. The doors opened and they walked down the silent hallway to the suite door.
As soon as they entered, the silence of the room contrasted with the noise from the bar downstairs. The city glittered outside the panoramic windows.
Christine walked a few steps across the room and let out a deep sigh.
Richard placed the folder with the contract on the table.
-- "A very successful night."
-- "I think this deserves a celebration."
He picked up a bottle of champagne and two glasses.
Christine leaned against the edge of the table, watching him with a calm smile.
The cork popped softly. Richard poured two glasses and handed one to her.
-- "To good business," he said.
Christine raised her glass.
-- "And to the most dangerous negotiation of my career."
After a few sips, Christine looked towards the suite's jacuzzi.
-- "Go to the jacuzzi and wait for me there," she said. "I'm going to the bathroom to freshen up a bit."
-- "Sounds like a good plan."
He went to the jacuzzi while Christine went into the bathroom.
Inside, Christine took a quick shower and then applied only red lipstick, with calm and precise movements. For a few seconds she observed the reflection of her own naked body, smiled, and thought:
-- "You really are a knockout!"
The night had demanded much more than just professional competence, and she was brilliant.
When she came out of the bathroom, Richard immediately looked up.
He remained silent for a few seconds, observing Christine covered only by a completely transparent white silk robe.
-- "Wow…" he said, with a slow smile. "You really are an exuberant woman."
Christine smiled and walked to the jacuzzi. She took off her robe, letting it fall from her arms, turning her face to the side, almost closing her eyes. Finally, the robe was on the floor and she was there, naked.
She got into the hot water and, after a few moments, settled between Richard's legs, resting her back against his chest. Naturally, he embraced her and, as on so many other previous occasions, placed his hands on her breasts, cradling them there. On the edge of the jacuzzi were the champagne glasses.
They picked them up again.
-- "To good business," Richard repeated.
Then he added, in a playful tone:
-- "And a special toast to my exceptional trophy assistant, to whom I owe the signing of the company's most profitable contract."
-- "I'm eager to tell Paul that we did it."
Richard pointed to her cell phone.
Christine picked up the phone and quickly typed, while Richard made gentle circular movements on her chest.
-- "We did it. The contract was signed."
Shortly after, the phone vibrated.
Paul replied:
-- "What wonderful news! And now, are you going to celebrate?"
Christine smiled and typed back:
-- "Yes. We're back in the suite and toasting with champagne."
The reply came almost immediately.
-- "Happy celebration to you both!"
Christine put the phone aside.
The two remained silent for a few minutes, relaxing in the hot water, a little incredulous at Paul's calm and confident response.
At one point Richard commented:
-- "Thompson was completely obsessed with you."
Christine tilted her head slightly.
-- "I noticed."
-- "He couldn't stop looking at your cleavage."
She let out a small laugh.
Richard placed his hands on her breasts again:
-- "A very efficient negotiation. With those perfect breasts, you could have gotten anything. I got jealous when I saw him staring at…"
-- "Straighteningly for her cleavage. But I knew we would end the night here, and holding them is a privilege only I have!"
The hot water of the jacuzzi created a silent, sensual, and relaxing atmosphere. For a few moments, neither of them spoke.
After some time, they got out of the jacuzzi.
Christine took a fluffy towel and began to dry herself while talking to Richard about details of the meeting.
Soon after, he also got out.
Christine took another towel.
-- "Come here."
She began to dry his shoulders and arms carefully. Then she knelt down and dried his legs, feet, and buttocks. Acting naturally so as not to embarrass him, she dried his groin area.
-- "Is this part of the celebration?" Richard asked.
Then she took his hand and led him to the large bed in the suite.
-- "Lie on your stomach," she said.
Christine sat on his hip and began a slow massage of his back and shoulders.
-- "You needed this," she commented.
-- "After last night… definitely."
The massage continued for several minutes. Christine massaged him and then lowered her torso and embraced him, pressing her breasts against his back, remaining like that for a few minutes, her body moving only with her breath.
Then Christine asked him to turn over.
When Richard turned and lay on his back on the bed, she sat on his hip again and continued the massage, now on his shoulders and chest. This position fostered a heightened intimacy between them.
And this closeness between the two created a different atmosphere. Silent. Charged. Sensual.
At a certain point Christine leaned forward a little more.
Their faces were very close.
It was she who broke the silence.
-- "Now… for the next half hour," she whispered in his ear, "forget that I'm your best friend's wife…"
She continued, in a low voice:
-- "I'll just be your trophy assistant and take care of your well-being…"
They looked at each other for a few seconds.
At first the kiss was almost cautious.
But the tension accumulated from the whole night seemed to finally find an outlet at that moment.
Richard even let out a small, incredulous laugh between kisses.
-- "I can't believe we're doing this…" Christine smiled too.
-- "Neither can I. But don't get too excited… Even a trophy assistant has limits on what she can do with her boss."
For a few moments they remained like that, kissing, aware of the delicate line they were walking.
Christine, who could already feel Richard's arousal, slid her body to the side, keeping him lying on his back on the bed. Still kissing him, she gave a different tone to the massage, which suddenly turned into a caress. Her hand traveled over his chest and then his abdomen.
Then, she moved her hand to his groin, looking into his eyes, and finally reached Richard's penis, first stroking it with her fingertips and then holding it in her palm.
He looked at her, a little incredulous, unsure how to react. She smiled and said:
-- "Try to relax. This is a special thank you."
Before he could answer, she brought her breast to his mouth, and he instantly opened it, receiving the nipple in his lips.
-- "That's right… Just like you always dreamed… This is something Thompson will never have. Only you, my beloved boss…"
And then, while Richard, still lying on his back, sucked Christine's breast, she masturbated him, gently and slowly, so that the moment would linger. There was no rush. Just a desire to end that day in a sublime way.
They remained like that for long minutes, and then Christine decided it was time to make Richard come and finally relieve himself of all the tension of that day. She quickened her movements, and when she noticed Richard's breathing quicken, she moved her body down slightly.
Feeling the first spasm in his hard penis, she directed it towards her breasts, and then Richard began to ejaculate, spilling a large amount of accumulated sperm onto Christine's breasts and neck. Hearing his moans, she said:
-- "That's right, darling…… cum deliciously for me…….. cum for your trophy assistant…"
When the last spasms ended, Christine squeezed his penis, which was no longer so rigid, extracting the last drops of his orgasm.
She looked at her own breasts and used her hand, spreading his sperm all over that area.
Then, she looked at him again, but no longer with that sensual and provocative look. Her gaze was affectionate and playful, as if what they had done was just a game. There was affection in that look, and at that moment, they both knew that it ended there, and it was already more than enough.
She joked:
— "Look at the mess you made of me, boss!"
Christine now lay down next to him again, hugging him from the side, and he was still lying on his back.
They stayed like that for a few minutes, in silence.
Then, she slowly got out of bed and walked a few steps across the room.
-- "I think tonight has been intense enough."
The negotiation had been a success.
And the celebration had reached a peak never before experienced in that very special friendship.
Christine went to the bathroom to take a shower. When she returned, Richard was already asleep. She watched and smiled. Then, she put on her baby-doll and joined him. It was time to rest. The next day, everything would be as before.
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