<div style="text-align: center"><div class="bbImageWrapper lazyload js-lbImage" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-single-image="1" data-src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FlmKwi49.jpg&amp;hash=44d0b8cc4c7fec6e4ffcb72b17a15546" title="lmKwi49.jpg">
<img alt="lmKwi49.jpg" class="bbImage lazyload" data-src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FlmKwi49.jpg&amp;hash=44d0b8cc4c7fec6e4ffcb72b17a15546" data-url="https://i.imgur.com/lmKwi49.jpg" data-zoom-target="1" height="" src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" style="width: 450px" title="" width=""/>
<noscript><img alt="lmKwi49.jpg" class="bbImage" data-url="https://i.imgur.com/lmKwi49.jpg" data-zoom-target="1" height="" src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FlmKwi49.jpg&amp;hash=44d0b8cc4c7fec6e4ffcb72b17a15546" style="width: 450px" title="" width=""/></noscript>
</div></div><br/><section class="sv-fieldset sv-fieldset--bcenter" style="max-width: 450px;">
<header>PERFORMANCE REVIEW</header>
<div class="sv-fieldset--content">
<div style="text-align: justify"><span style="font-size: 12px">When Keira stood up, Kirk's hand ended up coasting over the top of her lower leg, knee then upper shin. He retracted his hand as he sat comatose -- stunned, frankly -- at what had just occurred ... and how much he liked it. Any concern the executive might have had about the impropriety <i>on his part</i> evaporated as Keira did her part as the master of social ceremonies, being the good 'work wife' and tending to those important, parting feelings that Kirk just could not muster energy to care about. The executives, and everyone in his orbit, all attributed a calmer, more enjoyable work atmosphere since Keira joined him. <br/>
<br/>
And, Kirk had just felt her stocking thigh for several minutes without protest -- and now able to flee in disgust, Keira stood confident and proud, almost eager for their scheduled alone time. No, there was no unwanted contact; things between them were destined to only get more interesting.<br/>
<br/>
Keira's chatting hinted at nervousness needing to manifest out of a social creature. Gathering his belongings and files, Kirk slowly walked to the exit, revealing nothing of what he felt about what just happened between himself and his assistant. They should likely ... talk about what happened, or at least allow room for any discomfort to be made known. Keira could have been traumatized and simply suppressing her emotions out of fear of being fired. Time would tell the truth. <i>Or, things might heat up even more.</i><br/>
<br/>
Either way, Kirk wanted to bring Keira to the one place he did not worry about people barging in, unannounced. "My office, please," he said, quietly ... as if angry, though he simply wished to ensure a tight lid sealed in the abundant, raging emotions that centered on disrobing his assistant and burying his face between her stocking legs. As a result, Kirk was silent on the walk back to his office, traversing the many departments with a stern exterior that resonated with a grim visage. <br/>
<br/>
The moment they entered his office, he closed the door behind them -- and locked it. "Have a seat on the couch," Kirk said in an off-handed manner. Still holding the manila folder of files, he pointed to the over-sized length of furniture, upholstered in leather. Kirk sighed, tossing the folder onto his desk before taking off his suit jacket. <br/>
<br/>
"You did great in there," he announced, not looking at Keira but searching for some paper among shallow piles upon his desk. Having found the pre-printed sheet with itemized points, he walked to the couch and sat <i>very close</i> to Keira. The sides of their legs  cleaved together and his arm slipped behind her on top of the couch back. <br/>
<br/>
"Performance review," he began. "Blah-blah-blah ... two-week probationary period to assess your performance ... blah-blah-blah," he said, skirting past the nuisance formalities. "Punctuality: 10/10 ... Dress code compliance ..." He gave her outfit a once over, meeting her eyes before smirking. "I'd say an 11/10 ... Attention to Detail: 10/10 ... Ability to meet deadlines: 10/10 ... Professional demeanor: 10/10 considering half the people in the meeting would rather see you than me."<br/>
<br/>
Kirk's eyebrows furrowed as the appeared puzzled by something on the sheet. "I'm ... going to need your advice on this one," he said. "I'm trying to decide if rubbing my leg under the table at a meeting is positive or negative trait," he said. The faintest smile curled the ends of his lips. <br/>
<br/>
"What do you think?"<br/>
</span><br/>​</div>
</div>
</section>