A Passion for Service

This story was written for the 2025 Literotica 750 Word Challenge. Below the asterisks are exactly 750 words.

Note to non-U.S. readers: In U.S. business, the term 'compensation' means total remuneration, include salary, bonuses, commissions, etc. Other economies may use that term differently.

My thanks to my beta readers,

@AlexFourways

,

@MormonJack

, and

@shelleycat1

.

A Passion for Service

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"You have a passion for service," I told her. I moved close in the noisy bar. "You were the only one." Her company had tried to sell a large service software contract to my company. "The rest of your team just wanted to parachute in and shoot things up. Your proposal meant you would

perform

for us."

The word 'perform' is a standard business term, but she wasn't fooled. She looked right into my eyes. She understood me.

That sale was never going to work out, but during meetings she often touched me and smiled warmly: clear signs. So when the deal fell through I invited her out for drinks to commiserate. Services, I thought-- very personal ones-- could still be provided. Her compensation would not be in dollars.

I reached out to push her hair back. She didn't move away. I could see in her face that she could see the enjoyment in mine. I'm a sapiosexual. No movie star looks, but she was interesting to talk to and worth listening to. She was quietly attractive, moved with poise, and was probably a gifted athlete. I wondered what kind of blowjob she would give me.

"You have the most amazing look on your face," she said. "Very male. What are you thinking?"

I've learned not to lie when questions like this come up. "It was a very

male

thought," I replied. I continued enjoying looking at her. I concentrated on her lips, long enough that she could tell. Her tongue slipped out to lick them in response. "You have very nice lips," I said.

"Is that what you were thinking?"

"No. I was thinking--" I paused a beat to get her full attention-- "what would be your favorite way to give a man a blowjob?"

She took it well. Hardly flinched. But I could see something flash in her eyes, a recognition of possibilities. She looked away. She was imagining something. I put my hand on her thigh. "Now

you

tell me what

you're

thinking."

She made a very small shake of her head.

"It's that bad?" My other hand went to her neck, lightly stroking with a finger from her chin down into the bit of cleavage her blouse showed.

"Are you sure you should be doing what you're doing--" She glanced around the busy bar-- "I mean, here?"

"Nobody's stopping me." She got the message. But she didn't stop me. So I stopped. I removed my hands from her body, high and low, and took a pull on my drink. It was reverse psychology: I'd glimpsed the disappointment she tried to hide when my hands left her. I was taking possession of her by controlling when I touched her and when she was cast aside.

I asked her a technical question I'd been wondering about, and got an informative mini-seminar. I petted her along her thigh in reward. She was already giving me head, a part of it she didn't typically get to give.

I took her hand, which she'd been writing notes with during the meetings, and began massaging her fingers, one by one. It was easy to tell that she liked it, but she pulled away. I got a look, an opportunity for me to apologize for moving too fast. I didn't take the bait. She finished her drink. Soon her hand returned to mine and I continued, moving to her palm, then wrist.

"What's going to happen?" she asked.

"Anything is possible." I saw again the faraway look she'd shown when I shot my taboo question at her: that recognition. "You're thinking of it again," I stated. We both understood that word, 'it'.

Again the shake.

"It must be mortally embarrassing," I continued. I paused for her to deny it. Silence. "It's that scary? Obscene?"

Her lips parted briefly.

"One advantage of a business relationship," I explained, "is that you quickly learn if someone's reliable and trustworthy." She swallowed and stared at me. Still no response, but I could see that thought simmering in her eyes. "You have a fantasy. Like battle plans, fantasies don't survive contact. But then you break through."

She straightened herself. "I-- I want--" she paused to clear her throat. "I want you to tie me up. Blindfold me. No. No, I want to see it all happen." She took my hand firmly in hers. Her eyes penetrated mine. "Tie me up and make me give you that blowjob." She swallowed again. "I need to service you."