Corporate Wellness

Penny Pax walked into Reagan Foxx's office with purpose. The head of HR wanted an on-site masseuse, something to ease the tension her staff carried daily. Reagan looked up from her desk, unimpressed. 'Absolutely not,' she said, voice flat and final. Penny wouldn't back down so easily. 'Let me show you what I mean,' she offered. She circled behind Reagan's chair, hands settling on her shoulders. Reagan tensed at first. 'Just get on with it,' she snapped, checking her watch. But Penny's fingers worked deeper. The friction melted through fabric and muscle. Reagan's breathing slowed. Her shoulders dropped. The corner of her mouth twitched, betraying her pleasure. 'A little lower,' Reagan murmured, her voice softer now. Then, 'My chest is tight today. Stress pools there.' She unbuttoned her blouse without ceremony and let it slip. Her breasts spilled free, heavy and pale. Penny hesitated, then reached forward. Her palms curved over soft skin, thumbs tracing slow circles. Reagan sighed, leaning back. She opened her eyes and met Penny's. 'If you want my signature,' she said, 'this pitch needs to be a full demonstration.' Penny's hands paused. Reagan clarified, blunt as ever. 'I mean sex.' Penny's throat worked. Desire flickered behind her eyes even as propriety tugged at her. She bit her lip, considered, then nodded once. She stepped out of her heels. Her blouse followed. 'If that's what it takes,' she said, moving closer. Reagan smiled for the first time that afternoon.