Prior to her interview with Thora, Opal had never been attracted to a woman, and she certainly wouldn’t have hired one solely for her looks. Prior to that day, Opal had been straight through and through, and now she found herself making a business decision motivated entirely by a new kind of lust.

“You’re hired,” Opal had said without realizing she’d said it. “Sit down on the couch and let me tell you what I need from you…” After she’d sent Thora into town for supplies, she’d plopped down on the couch in her office and grinned at her own impetuousness. Here at last she understood what it was to be a man and to employ a woman solely for her charms. Where once she’d felt scorn for those men, now she felt empathy. Damned if she hadn’t just fallen into the same trap herself.

Thora had arrived for the interview in a tailored suit of charcoal gray. Under her jacket she’d worn a white blouse with three buttons unbuttoned and a thin black ribbon around her ivory throat. Her skirt ended just above the knees and her high-heeled shoes (in matching gray) were secured with an ankle strap. Just watching the girl sit and hearing her stockinged legs brush against one another sent an electric charge through Opal. What was this strange new feeling? Why here? Why now? Unlike her university friends, Opal had never so much as dabbled in the fairer sex, and she was shocked to feel such an attraction now. She’d stammered through the interview, finding her eyes fixed more than once upon either the black ribbon or those delicately crossed ankles. But Opal quickly accepted this unexpected drive. When she thought about bedding the beautiful blond now in her employ, reservation melted into desire.

But Opal was unable to transform that desire into action. An awkward dance lasting weeks followed. Opal knew only too well how to seduce, but she froze when she looked at Thora. What if the girl didn’t share her attraction? What if she cried sexual harassment? Opal bristled at the idea anyone might call her a fondler or an opportunist. She was tired of flushing like a schoolgirl whenever Thora came into the room and she was desperate to finally articulate her need. To get it, at last, into the open.

One evening, after the work was done, Opal sighed and put her head down on her desk. That afternoon had been particularly trying. She’d watched…