The Package 19

"You wanted to see me, Ms Johnson?" I asked peering around the door into the 40th floor office.

"Come in, Mr. Plank."

It was the first time I had seen Tiffany Johnson's office although I had heard that most people who went in did not usually come out happy. Still, the night view of the city through the huge glass windows that wrapped around the corner of the building was worth the visit. It was quite breath-taking, the entire city below, under my feet. Some people get all the breaks.

"Come in," she repeated, "and please sit down."

I stepped in and as I walked toward the roughed-leather chairs, she rose from her chair and walked toward the door. I sat down, luxuriated in the comfortable feel of the leather, admired the dark wooden shelves that lined the entry wall, covered with a myriad of books, crystal awards and framed photos with celebrities and dignitaries. I also noticed that she was halfway out the door, looking both ways as if she was going to cross a busy street. Was she looking for someone? It was 7:30 PM now and everyone had gone home for the day. She then closed the door quietly behind her and walked back toward me.

"I called you here because I think we need to talk," she opened.

"What about?"

"Well, I'm afraid we are going to have to let you go."

I was shocked and dumbfounded. I felt like I had just been hit by a bus. I had worked extremely hard the last two years, overtime, even on weekends with nary a complaint about my productivity. In fact, in the short time I had been with the firm I had received a promotion, a large holiday bonus and a written commendation. Maybe she had me confused with someone else. After all, my cubicle was two floors below and there were probably a thousand other people who worked here. Maybe there is someone else with the last name 'Plank' that she had me confused with. There must be some mistake.

"It has come to my attention that you have made some remarks that constitute sexual harassment. We simply can't have this here."

My mouth dropped open. Now I know there must have been a mistake.

"And before you claim there has been some mistake, I have a recording of your voice making the remarks."

This was becoming more and more incredible. I boggled slightly and stuttered, "Are-are you sure?"

"You tell me," she replied, simultaneously pushing a button for a digitally recorded playback. Sure enough, it was my voice in a conversation that I remembered having a few days ago. But as I listened trying to remember the exact words I had said, the dialogue deviated drastically from my memory, "... and I am going to eat her juicy kitty so good she will beg me to fuck her ass." It was surely my voice, but I never said... wait, something is not right here.

"You see, Mr. Plank, I have all the evidence I need have you fired."

"Ms. Johnson, you have to believe me but I did not say those things," I pleaded.

There was a long pause. She stared directly into my eyes, sensing that I was nearing a point where I would beg for leniency. A hint of a smile appeared at the corner of her lips.

"Oh, I am sure you didn't say them."

My eyes widened with surprise.

"Really, I am so relieved to hear that. Wait... if you know I am being framed for something, why am I here? Why are you-"

"Because I am the one who is framing you."

I felt the color leave my face and my hands turn cold.

"You think I didn't notice you checking out my ass whenever I walked by in the lobby?" she said as she slowly pivoted around in front of her desk. Her hands reached for the hem of her gray knee-high skirt and she slowly revealed perfectly shaped, long, powerful thighs that subtly tapered into her tight hips. As the skirt passed over her tight ass it revealed a lacy pale red thong barely touching her skin, hovering over her hips. I was stunned by the turn of events but was also completely drawn to how incredible her body was. From the first time I had seen her two years ago, I had often imagined what she would look like naked. However, the reality was better than any air-brushed centerfold or animation from my adolescence. She let the skirt drop back down, and then unzipped the side to let it drop to the floor.

My head was swimming. First, I'm being fired and possibly losing everything I've worked hard for, and now... now I didn't know what was going on.

"And you can't deny that you've stared at these big luscious tits," she said squeezing them together under her pin-stripped white blouse, "and not fantasized about having your cock between them. I've caught you a few times gazing lustfully at me."

"wha... well, maybe, but... why..."

"Maybe? It's very important that you tell the truth right now, Mr. Plank."

"Yes, I have," I conceded.

"I'm sorry, who were you addressing?"

"Yes, I have, Ms Johnson. But why..."

"I'll be the one talking now. You'll be the one listening, and if you want to keep your job, you'll be the one obeying."

"Yes, Ms. Johnson."

"And the first thing you are going to do is take off your tie and give it to me."

I complied, handing the silk cloth to her.

"And now I want you to unbutton your shirt and come over here next to me."

I felt some embarrassment at my impending half-nakedness, hesitated for a moment, but I did as she commanded and stopped a foot in front of her.

"Kneel."

As I was bending to obey, she put both hands on my shoulders and pushed me down to comply more quickly. She then wrapped my tie around the back of my neck, spread her thighs to reveal to me her delicate thong covering a perfectly smooth shaved pussy and pulled my face between her knees. She wound the tie around both her hands as if she was going to garotte me with my own tie, looped it around my neck and then pulled my face so close that my nose was barely touching her lacy covering. I could feel and almost taste how moist she was right now. She then lifted each of her thighs one at a time to tuck the tie underneath them, my head now firmly cuffed next to her pussy.

"Eat it... like your job depended on it. Because it does," she ordered, sliding the lace to the side revealing perfectly shaped lips crowned by a delectable hooded clit.

I considered for a moment what would happen to me if I went through with this. If I did, I would be at the beckon call of a boss who would stop at nothing to get what she wants. If I refused, I would likely be summarily fired, probably charged with sexual harassment which might include a trip to court. My career would be over. I quickly realized I was doomed regardless of what I did. My only hope would be to lay myself at the mercy of a pityless boss.

"Lick it, bitch!" she demanded. I flattened my tongue and slowly licked from her perineum across her cool lips to her glans. Just below her clit, I narrowed it to a moist point and with the tip I traced around the hood, then fluttered it across her sensitive little knob. She inhaled through her teeth and then breathed out with a wide open mouth as I alternated between light flicking and slowly troweling across and around her lips.

"oh yeah, that's it. Mmmm, Mr. Plank you have some talent there," she murmured. I snuck my hand past my lips and gently waved my fingers across her moistened pussy.

"ohhhhh fuck," she cooed, followed by a "NNNnnnnmmmmm," when I pushed a finger inside her. I resumed the assault with my tongue while one finger, and then a second gently pushed in and out. As my pace quickened, the touch of my tongue became more delicate and fluttering while the pulse of my finger-fucking became more urgent.

She fumbled to unbutton her blouse, distracted, occasionally pausing when her nerve endings were overwhelmed, finally ripping the bottom button through the hole. She then slipped a hand under the cup of her bra to give her tit a squeeze and then she released it, popping out from beneath the garment. I felt her body shift, moving from side to side as I focused on pleasing her fresh tasting pussy. I felt her bra tumble across my back. When I peered up again, she had both breasts in her hands, pulling, pinching and twisting her nipples to hardness. Her soft, "ohhhh," grew louder and when her pelvis began to twitch, I buried my tongue deep inside her and led it firmly to her clit. I surrounded it with my gently sucking lips and then began a flurry of darting flicks across its sensitive head. She frantically grabbed around the desk, latching onto a stress toy which she slammed into her mouth to muffle her shriek as her body convulsed with the first wave of orgasm. Her thighs lifted releasing the tie that held my head captive but then clenched like a vise on my head tightly.

I was busy re-adjusting my sore jaw and wondering if I had just lost a hat size when she purred, "you're not done yet, Mr. Plank. You've only passed the oral exam. Stand up and give me a second to catch my breath."

I did as I was commanded and watched as she regained her bearing. I have to admit I took great pleasure in both looking at her incredible body and the fact that I had exerted a small degree of power over it. Once her eyes were fully open, she smiled and walked behind me with my tie in her hands. She took my left hand in hers, intertwined her fingers in mine and led it to the small of my back, where she took my right hand in hers and led it to the same place. I then felt her wrap my tie around my wrists tightly and felt the jerk of one tightening knot, and then a second. Her hands were now free and mine were in the same situation my head was only a few minutes before: captive.

She reached around me and released the button that held my pants, then slowly unzipped them making sure her fingers touched as much of the fabric as possible. She slid my pants to the ground, then slid her hands over my hips inside the sides of my underwear.

"hmm, no, not yet," she whispered in my ear.

She withdrew her hands but only to have her fingers fan out in a search for my cock. She quickly found it and remarked, "mmm it looks like you have a package for me, Mr. Plank." She walked around to face me, slid to her knees and pulled my underwear down far enough for my quickly hardening cock to spring out and ambush her face from the side. "Yes, that is the package I have been waiting for. Thank you for delivering it. I need you to stand here while I sign for it." And with that her tongue darted across the head and her lips quickly engulfed it. Both her hands grabbed the base, squeezing, as her head bobbed back and forth. It was clear she wasn't interested in my pleasure or in impressing me with her technique. But she was expert with a cock in her hands and mouth. Her touch was soft but firm and her suction was urgent but not frantic. My cock got incredibly hard within a few moments.

"Here is your next assignment, Mr. Plank: Don't cum."

And with that, she unleashed a furious attack on my cock with her lips and tongue, the goal of which was to make it erupt as quickly as possible like an oil derrick that just struck the mother lode. My mind quickly raced to remember baseball players and famous World Series plays but her technique and urgency overpowered them in my mind. I was desperately grasping for anything to think about, trying to imagine anything that would stifle my pleasure, from nudist colonies for obese people to bicycle assembly videos. My legs were growing tired from clenching my body to prevent my orgasm. And just as quickly as she had started, she just stopped. She stood up, and walked behind me, tracing her fingers across my chest, my side, then to the small of my back.

I felt like I had been battling to restrain my orgasm for an hour but the clock on her desk said a mere three minutes had passed.

I then felt her hands on my ass, sliding slowly and simultaneously to the middle where they proceeded between my legs. I was about to beg her for a moment to catch my breath when her hands grabbed my balls tightly and pulled them down and back. Her fondling and tugging was both pleasurable and slightly painful. "UUHhh," escaped my lips, which prompted a stronger, more forceful tug. She whispered, "What's that, Mr. Plank? You have something to say?"

"No, Ms. Johnson. Please continue."

"Yes, I think I will."

She continued to pull my balls back and squeeze them with one hand while her other slinked around my hips to find my achingly hard cock. Softly she stroked the shaft as if it was her own, whispering in my ear, "mmmm I love my big cock. I love to make girls cry and beg and grunt and whimper with it. They love it when I grab them by their hair and choke them with it, don't they."

I hesitated, unsure if I should answer, until she pulled hard on my balls and demanded, "don't they?!".

"Yes, Ms Johnson."

"How many girls have I fucked with this cock? I don't remember. Can you refresh my memory?"

As I was straining to think clearly about every woman I had ever penetrated, she began to stroke it more vigorously.

"Tell me. Is it more than 10?" she demanded.

"Yes"

"More than 20?"

"I-I-I'm not sure. Maybe"

"Liar. If I had a cock like this I would fuck hundreds of women. They deserve that pleasure and you were put here on this Earth to give it to them. To serve them. Weren't you?!" she interrogated, while corkscrewing her hand over the head, lubricating it and the shaft with the steady dribble of pre-cum.

"Yes" I replied with submission in my voice, praying for permission to release the load that was aching in my balls.

"Good, now for your third test." And with that she released my cock and my balls from her tight grip, untied my hands and strutted in front of me to the desk. She then leaned forward over the desk and placed one knee on it, exposing her soaked pussy.

"Come here, bitch, and fuck the living shit out of me," she hissed. "And if you dare cum before I do, you're fired. And you better not start out meek or soft, slave."

I sidled behind her, placed my hands on her hips, positioned my cock so that the head barely spread her pussy lips, and then leaned into a hard thrust as deep as I could go inside her.

"UUUUUHHHHHHhhh", she gasped, as I grunted like a gorilla with each powerful thrust. Almost immediately I was pumping her like a piston, as fast and as hard as I could, pulling my cock nearly out each time and then thrusting it back in with all the strength in my legs, hips and lower back. Her mouth fell open and her jaw seemed to unhinge as if to let escape some intense ball of mystical energy the size of a bowling ball from deep inside her. She grasped frantically about the desk for something hold onto, occasionally chirping from the back of her throat as her body bounced back and forth from the body slapping I was giving her from behind. Most of the items that had been on her perfectly organized desk were strewn about the floor by the time her eyes began to flutter. She fought the impending wave with an angry face, her jaw clenched and jutting. Interspersed were explosive exhales summoning her strength against the inevitable. With frenetic desperation and intensity, I pumped her like a steam engine gone haywire, my mind completely blank. My sole purpose in living in this moment was to pummel her pussy with my cock like a boxer's final flurry seeking a knockout.

And then in an instant, her mouth opened like she had been shot, her face transformed from angry and defiant to pained and pleading, her legs twitched tightly closed and her arms grabbed behind her head to yank me closer. I instinctively grabbed her wrapping my arms tightly around her torso, pulled her as close as I could while still pounding her pussy furiously. A moan emanated from deep within her, crescendoing as it rose into a roar that hovered in the room as her body spasmed hard from her orgasm.

"Don't stop," she whispered desperately. "Don't fucking stop. Oh god, don't stop."

I could not longer control my thrusts. My willpower and cadence was disintegrating like a satellite re-entering the atmosphere, rendered into a thousand pieces by the tremendous forces.

"Yes, pump me full, my slave" she urged.

With the first spurt, my whole body seized like it had been struck by lightning. Between each subsequent gout of thick white cum, it slacked and then tensed rigidly like the spring of a trap and the only thing I could utter was, "Oh fuh, oh fuh, oh fuh, oh fuh". Little gold flashes danced before my eyes as I struggled to keep my awareness. When I could cum no more, we stood frozen for moment, breathless, weary, covered with sweat.

She edged away so that she could turn and sit against the desk. She was quick to reach behind her and grab my cock as it flopped out of her pussy. She squeezed the head to milk out any remaining semen and brought it to her lips. She first tasted it with the tip of her tongue, then lapped it up with a long languorous lick. She then told me to lay down on the floor on my back and relax. I willed to break the lock my joints were in and I soon settled on the floor, looking up at my gorgeous benefactor.

"So far, so good, baby. Now you're gonna do one last thing for me," she smiled.

Before I could reply, she straddled me and then knelt with her knees at my shoulders trapping my arms underneath her and then pushed her engorged pussy lips onto my mouth.

"I want you to lick all of your cum out of my pussy, and hold it in your mouth. I want you to taste what you and I taste like together, the mix of our juices. Don't you fucking swallow it unless I say."

I blinked and barely nodded in acknowledgement.

As she slowly and sensuously caressed her sweaty body, I could taste the strong, salty goo oozing onto my lips and into my mouth.

"Mmmm that's it, baby. Take it all," she purred as she tensed her thighs in pulses and rubbed her pussy subtly back and forth over my awaiting lips and tongue. My mouth was full to overflowing, the strong smell and taste becoming intoxicating. When she could force no more, she slid down my body, brought her face next to mine and whispered looking deeply into my eyes, "give it to me, baby." She opened her mouth slowly and pressed it to mine, probing, licking, sucking, spreading our mixture over our lips with our tongues.

We lay there for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only a few minutes. Eventually, she pushed herself up from my chest, stood and began to reassemble her business self from the sexual carnage. I took the cue to sit up, take stock of the room to locate my belongings and then follow her back to reality. Once we were fully dressed, she turned, smiled for only a moment, transformed into Ms Johnson again and directed, "Oh, and one more thing."

She pointed to a medium sized white box in one of the cubbie holes of the bookshelves. "Take that box with you and keep it at your desk. I want you to bring it to my office every day at the close of business."

"What should I say if someone asks about it?"

"Tell them you are delivering my package."