"So, which one are you going to try out first?" I whispered into Mike's ear while draping my arms around his neck.
"Gosh," he said, flinching and almost spilling his coffee. "Don't creep up on me like that, Maria." He pulled one of my arms from his shoulder, and quickly looked around his office. "We've got to be careful, you know that. If someone else finds out about what we've been--"
"Relax," I said, before blowing a raspberry. "Everyone else has already gone home for the weekend. It's only the two of us." I stepped around and swivelled his chair so he was facing me. Immediately, his eyes almost popped out of his head as he gawped at what I was wearing: red high heels and stockings, along with a sexy little Mrs Santa costume. I twirled on the spot, before flashing him a seductive smile; biting my lip in the process. "Are you ready to unwrap your present?"
"Oh Christ," he said. "Christmas has come early, hasn't it?" He was already pulling me onto his lap and grabbing my ass.
I took my Santa hat and plopped it on his head, before grabbing his tie and wrapping it around my fingers. "Come here," I said, and I leant in for a kiss.
"God, you're so hot," he whispered, as he began devouring my neck; his fingers fumbling to unzip my getup. Once he finally tugged it down, I wriggled my shoulders free and pulled the costume down around my hips, my black, lacy bra revealed.
I smirked as he moved down to my breasts, nuzzling into my ample cleavage, all while moaning and writhing beneath me. Ever since my first interview at the company, I'd noticed the lingering looks from my boss, Mike. I'd first got the job through my mother, who had worked as a cleaner for the firm. When the opportunity came for a receptionist position, she'd recommended me, stating how much I was a hard worker. After flunking out of high school, things had been difficult, and I'd been moving between shelf-stacking positions at the local supermarkets in order to top up my mother's rent. The truth was, I'd never moved out of my mother's apartment and we really needed the money. With both of our crappy jobs, we were barely covering expenses, and she'd been trying to land me a position at many of the companies she'd cleaned at. Most would politely say they'd have a look; but we'd never hear anything back.
Apparently, Mike had initially been reluctant upon seeing my severely lacking resumé, the same as everyone else did once noting I had zero qualifications or credentials. I didn't even have a high school diploma to my name, so it wasn't like I could argue or anything. However, there was one attribute I had going for me, and Mike soon realised it was something that his company could really benefit from. Well, perhaps not his company, but rather,
he
could benefit from.
You see, when one time I came by the office to drop off my mother's lunch, his tune suddenly changed. I'd been sure to wear my tightest blouse, my shortest skirt and put extra effort into my hair and make-up. While I'd been talking to the temporary receptionist, he'd come over, stuttering and stammering while enquiring about who I was. I knew men well enough, so when the sudden turnaround of an offer for an interview came for the next day, I'd already suspected that he was going to be putty in my hands.
That receptionist job had only lasted three weeks before we were sleeping together. I honestly didn't care that he was married, or had children, because for me it was just a bit of fun and, if anything, career progression. We were hardly going to run off together, were we? Obviously, he became smitten, and suddenly our occasionally trysts in a grotty motel weren't enough.
Mike evidently wanted more alone time together, and I soon found myself promoted to his personal assistant, with my own desk in the corner of his office. Of course, this supplied me with plenty of opportunity to wrap him around my finger, even though some of the other employees were already making noises about how I wasn't qualified for the position. One in particular was a real pain in the butt, a young African American girl that thought she was the bee's knees. She was one of those jobsworth sorts that thinks they know everything and sees herself as a future CEO.
Anyway, she had complained one time after I had answered Mike's phone and informed her that he was currently in a meeting; he was actually on his knees between my spread legs, each of my feet perched on the desk. While I had humoured her, biting my lip and trying not to moan, she became impatient and demanded to speak to him, as she apparently had an important matter that they needed to discuss immediately. It couldn't wait, so she had professed again and again. Meanwhile, I had been on the other end of the call, twirling my hair in my fingers while I'd watched the boss greedily eat my young snatch. "He's busy," I had said. "I'll let you know when he's done, alright? Geez, calm down."
There had been a tut, and then, in a firm tone, she'd said, "Who do you think you're talking to right now?"
"Alyssa, right?" I'd still been rolling my eyes back in my head in pleasure while the boss man gave me my weekly bonus. Alyssa had always been a total pain in the ass since the very first day I'd arrived. There had been obvious jealousy spurring on her attitude, as clearly, I was younger and way more attractive. My father had emigrated from Mexico, and along with my mother's good looks, I was left with beautiful, supple, tanned skin, dark hair and similarly dark come-to-bed eyes. Alyssa, meanwhile, seemed to resent me for my physical experience, which was completely out of my control. It was the only explanation I could reason with, as she was hostile constantly and nit-picked whatever work I did. She'd snarl or mumble beneath her breath whenever I was within earshot. It was incredibly immature and had led to a somewhat hostile working environment.
As far as I was concerned, she needed to grow the hell up. It wasn't my fault that she was a few years older and possessed what could be considered average looks. I mean, she wasn't ugly or anything, even moderately pretty, to guys into that sort of thing, but she just didn't stand out, if that made sense. Her skin was a little browner than mine, and her hair was shorter and frizzy. Her hips were a little wider, and overall, she just didn't have the same presence that I possessed. But the real difference was in how we dressed. I preferred casual summer dresses that hung off my curves, along with non-descript comfortable slip-on sneakers, whereas Alyssa was a stickler for professional clothes. Blouses, skirts, and even sometimes dress pants were her go-to, along with a battered old pair of flats that were in dire-need of retirement. It was plain and boring, which kind of suited her personality well. Sometimes she'd come in with her hair straightened, which was an obvious attempt to try and compete with me, but still, her efforts would fall flat. One time she wore the most ridiculously bright red lipstick, clearly trying to steal my shine, which left me rolling my eyes. A little of my own pink, glittery lip gloss swiftly restored the natural order of things.
She'd had it out for me since the first minute I'd breezed through the door and turned Mike's head. She'd been bugging Mike with something or other through his emails on a daily basis; the pair of us often giggling while having a read as I was sat in his lap over lunch. Once she had gotten hold of my number, well, that had been it: I had suddenly been thrust into the firing line of her irritation and she was able to hassle me directly. She had pestered me with all sorts of complaints ever since, like trying to arrange meetings and constantly needing Mike to approve work. It had almost been like she couldn't do it herself or whatever. Like, what the hell? I'd constantly think:
just do it yourself, would you?
But, the worst was when she'd try and stick her nose into my work, dropping comments that things needed improving, or even worse, sending emails highlighting all of my 'mistakes'. That had become a real gripe of mine, as she was such a pedant and constantly made a mountain out of a molehill.
She's not professional
, she'd whine to anyone that would listen.
She doesn't even have a college degree
, was another constant accusation that she threw around the office.
How did she even get the job?
Like I said, pure jealousy and exaggeration. If I forwarded a group email, she'd 'reply all' with some snarky correction of any error she could find. People make mistakes, and spelling and grammatical errors really aren't that big of a deal. Unless Alyssa was involved, that is. One time I had scheduled a meeting for the wrong day, and she had acted like it was the end of the world when the client arrived and Mike had already been on the train somewhere else. I'd meant to type 'next Tuesday', but somehow wrote 'Thursday' instead. I have no idea how it happened, I had probably been busy with something else, but anyway, that's not the point. It had been pathetic watching her usher the guy into an office and playing the hero. Apparently, he had signed the contract anyway, so, like, why make such a bother? She'd spent the rest of the week ranting and raving about my 'massive' error that almost cost us a lucrative deal; announcing constantly how she'd swooped in and saved the day. Totally pathetic!
Even during that initial confrontation on the phone, she still hadn't taken the hint and done the cordial thing with a hang up. I had been approaching orgasm with the ministrations of Mike's tongue, and yet, that oblivious twit had been groaning on and whining in my ear. "Yeah," she had said. "I've been working here for four years straight out of college. How long have you been working here?"
"I dunno," I'd said. "Couple of weeks." I'd bitten my lip and rolled my eyes closed, struggling not to whimper down the line. "Does it matter?"
"Yes, it does. So, watch your tone with me." She had let out a sigh, before she cleared her throat. "Just let me know when he's finished so I can run this stuff by him. It's important and needs signing off today. The client is ready to finalise things and we can get started on Monday."
"Yeah, whatever. I'll let you know when he's...finished." I had rolled my eyes as I hung up, and just to make a point, I had waited until about five minutes before the work day was over before I told Mike all about it, you know, just to teach her a lesson and all. Apparently, they'd had to stay an extra hour after closing to go over everything before the weekend, which I had found hilarious. Mike had tried to chew me out for it later that evening at the motel, but I'd swiftly worked my magic and talked him around. Alyssa had harped on about it for days, declaring that it was another example of my inability to do my job properly, but I don't know why she was so uptight about it all? She had gotten to book unscheduled overtime, and who did she have to thank for that? Me! She should have been bloody applauding me after I orchestrated that situation for her.
Once we were finished up, and Mike returned from the restroom, I was in the process of changing back into my usual work attire. Even though I looked sexy as hell, I wasn't about to head back to my mom's house dressed like Mrs Santa the Christmas slut, was I?
