Amanda is a 40-year-old married woman. She is 6' 0" tall with long shapely legs, long blonde hair, and a curvy body. She is the senior vice president of the fashion and cosmetic divisions at Deparis Industries. I have lusted for her since hiring her. She has rejected my romantic advances several times.
The rap of her high heels echoing off the concrete walls was the only sound as she walked down the long line of cars, looking for where she'd parked. She'd been sure this was the row—13-D—but where was her car? She shifted her bags to her left hand where the black leather glove would keep the handles from biting into her and looked back over her shoulder through her blonde hair. Perhaps she'd walked past it? But there was no red Honda.
She stopped. The yellowish green fluorescent lights bo
