Foxx Inc Ch 03 Trouble

Although this piece could be read as a stand alone story, I believe you will enjoy it more if you have read the preceding parts.

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As a brief recap, I had separated from the Navy a few weeks ago after six years in submarines. Growing bored of lounging around my parents' house, I began a job search, and to my surprise I found myself in an interview a short time later. An interview, believe it or not, that ended with my having sex with my hiring manager. My job, should I choose to accept it, was to sexually service the women of Foxx Inc. Just based on the interview, it was good work if you can get it.

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It was 1000 on the first Thursday of my first week at Foxx Inc. when I was reminded that, as much fun as it was, fucking, or rather servicing, the women of the firm was still a job. The best, most awesome, craziest fun job possible, yes, but still a job.

1000 when I received my first all too terse email from HR, the delectable Ms. Olson. It was a calendar appointment for 1015 under the title, "Performance Review." This made me not a little nervous. After all, I'd been on the job for all of three days and a wakeup. That morning had started with an off the hook romp with a tiny blonde from bookkeeping. I thought it had gone pretty darn well, yet here I was, not fifteen minutes after showering post romp, when this performance review threw a spanner into the works. There was no doubt the blonde and the review were connected, and it was very much bothering me that I did not know why.

I was finishing my second bottle of pineapple juice for the morning when I heard the click and Ms. Olson walked into my office. I stood, said, "Good morning," and gestured to a chair.

Her look was unusually serious as she took the offered seat. She looked at me with a level gaze and said, "Really Mr. Jeffries. I thought the first complaint would take longer than three days."

"Complaint?" I repeated, trying to remain calm even as I contemplated losing the best job in the history of employment.

She raised an eyebrow and leaned back in the chair. "Yes, but more of a, 'I asked for the dressing on the side' than a 'I demand this person be fired' kind of complaint."

I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. She continued, "I'd like to be sure I have the facts straight before we discuss corrective action."

Once again, it was unreal how well her phrasing matched with my nuclear submarine background. She seemed to be waiting on me, so I simply said, "Of course, that makes sense."

"Good," she said. "Now, let's begin at the beginning. When Ms. Cartwright came into your office this morning at 0915, did she present her secondary badge?"

"Yes, she did."

"Presuming you examined it, what codes did you see?" she asked, her expression still stern.

I thought about it for only a second, the combination was a vivid memory. It was a bit difficult to be this direct with her even after working here a few days. "Well, from top to bottom, NCL, FFK, ANO and CAN."

"I'm impressed by your memory of the codes, but I am more interested in what they meant to you." I shifted in my seat and she immediately noticed. The eyebrow went up again. "Don't get bashful on me Thomas, I'm quite serious," she said.

I cleared my throat, then said, "Yes, well, those mean name calling, er, face fucking, anal only, and come wherever you like that I didn't say to avoid."

She smiled, but with clarity rather than mirth. "Good, of course you are correct. Now that we are clear on terminology and meaning, I have a few questions for you as I try to determine what really happened during your encounter earlier. Please answer as succinctly as you can." She waited for me to nod my understanding before continuing. "Mr. Jeffries," she said like an attorney examining a witness, "when you had your cock in Ms. Cartwright's mouth, would you characterize the event more as fellatio or facefucking?"

You know, even after a crazy few days, this woman could leave me speechless. "I, er, well," I stammered.

Her expression did not change, "I'm fairly sure you comprehend the difference, Mr. Jeffries, do you not?"

I nodded, "I do." Rather than prompting me, she waited for me to speak. I finally did. "I would have to say more like fellatio."

She smiled again, the same hard smile of an attorney winning a point. "That was her account as well. Now, how many times did you use a derogatory term with her, like cunt or slut?"

This was a really fucked up Thursday, I have to say. "Once or twice? I guess? I don't really remember."

"Is it possible that your execution of 'name calling'", she used air quotes, "was limited to one use of the term 'slut'?"

I sighed, "Yes."

She nodded, "Now, did you, or did you not touch her anus with one or more fingers?"

My mouth fell open before I could catch it. I stammered, "Um, yes, yes I did. But--"

"What Mr. Jeffries? Are you going to provide some kind of reason for the unwanted touching?" she scolded me.

"Well, I thought--"

"You thought the unwanted touching was actually wanted?"

"Well, no, I thought it was necessary to--"

"Stop!" she barked. I say barked because she raised her voice suddenly. I mean, it wasn't a yell or a scream, just something akin your Chief saying "shut it!"

"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume your actions were intended to lubricate Ms. Cartwright prior to penetration. Would that be correct?"

Again I let out a breath. It seemed odd to be on the verge of getting canned for the offense of lubing up a coworkers asshole before you plowed her. Then again, that I should find that odd was the weirdest kind of surreal. "Yes, Ms. Olson, that was my intent."

She nodded. "And why do suppose, you essentially had Ms. Olson perform fellatio rather than fucking her face, as she requested?" When I did not immediately answer she added, "And why did you simply call her a slut once when she requested name calling?"

Now that kind of threw me for a loop, and my expression must have said so. I didn't have an answer right away. She used the "60 Minutes" interview technique and remained quiet, staring at me while I tried to compose an answer. After some time I said quietly, "Because I'm not entirely comfortable doing those things."

Now her face broke into an honest, warm smile. "Okay Tom, now we can talk." She stood and slowly paced around the room. "Tell me, have any of the women here asked you to pinch them quite hard?"

"Sure," I said quickly.

"Ah. And have any of them wanted you to pull their hair? Pin their arms down?"

"Um, yes," I said.

"Okay. Assuming that those things are generally more uncomfortable than pressing lube into one's ass, why do you suppose you were okay not questioning their requests?" she said, and stopped to look at me. Her expression was kind of like a teacher, waiting for me to figure out the right answer.

It took a minute before something registered. It did not make me feel better. I suddenly had the realization that while my 'hard no's' were off the table, everything else was expected of the PBS. "I suppose because I like to do those things."

She smiled, pleasantly. She sat down again. "That is a very enlightened thing for a twenty something to figure out. I'm once again quite pleased with myself for finding and hiring you. Yes, you are entirely correct. You are a considerate, caring, and talented lover. And as you have only your experience as a guide, you will find Foxx Inc. is both simpler and more challenging. You don't need to figure out what these women want. Your job is to provide what they need. What they ask for. Mostly they will ask for it directly, and that is their responsibility. But it may be challenging if what they want is not typically your cup of tea. If you had throat fucked Jenny Cartwright until she couldn't talk for a day, that would be on her. If you had pounded her ass so she worked standing up for a week, that would be on her. Asking you to throat fuck her and instead requiring her to blow you, is on you."

Again, I was agog. She went on, "If I want to get reamed with no lube, then all I have to do is put ANO on my badge and present my butt to you without getting ready." She saw I was still staring, "Most, if not all, wouldn't do that."

I gulped, "I'm not sure how to go about that level of acting."

She stood and shrugged, "Not my problem. However, I am prepared to give you a bit of training."

"Training?" I said. The confusion no doubt obvious on my face.

She smirked, "First a couple of thoughts. Psych yourself up, give yourself a moment to get into character. It need not be instantaneous, especially if the request throws you for a loop. But yes, training." She turned to leave, but looked back at me as she put her hand on the door handle, "And for that, Ms. Cartwright will be back to reassess you at 1300. Do make me proud Thomas." And with that she left.

I pondered my future for a good ten minutes before I returned to one of my favorite movie quotes, "There is no fate but what we make." And that meant I had to accept one thing above all else, get off on whatever the woman wanted. After another ten minutes I was still wondering if I could do it. I sat and stared at the ceiling until just after noon, then went to the cafeteria to get lunch. As I have not mentioned it until now, the uniform I sported that day was that of a brown truck deliveryman, complete with brown socks and sneakers. The deliveryman's name was 'Hank.' If Ms. Cartwright had said anything untoward about me after our morning encounter, none of the women eating lunch seemed to be affected. Those that knew me, and those that just knew who I was, either looked at me and smirked, grinned, gave me no notice or perhaps a slight wave.

Cindy, aka Velma, from IT caught my eye and gestured me to come over. She looked at my name tag as I sat down across from her. "Hey, Hank, how are you today?" I shrugged and she added, "I guess you don't have a delivery for me this afternoon?"

"Truth is I don't really know the delivery schedule," I said without much enthusiasm as I dug into my sandwich.

Cindy gave me a long wink, "No? From what I heard you need to make a couple of deliveries to the, ah, rear entrance. If you get my meaning."

I swallowed heavily, "I see. And if you were making such a delivery, would you have any advice?"

Her face lit up with a full smile, "Well, as you know, I tend to take my deliveries via the main entrance. But from what I've heard, the loading dock back there is reinforced. You could really just slam into it and the delivery van and the dock would be just fine. But that's just the packages, mostly. You could deposit any, ah, loads, through the back door, or right on the front porch." When I didn't say anything she leaned forward, resting her considerable chest on the table and lowering her voice, "Or perhaps I need to be more blunt?"

"No, no," I said quietly, "that's not necessary. But how did--"

She silenced me with a very brief gesture, "Jenny is a talker, and between us, the least likely person you would ever expect to be a sub, and then only sometimes."

At this point I was sporting a half woody and my thoughts about my 1300 meeting had changed quite a bit. "Thanks Cindy. I'm really looking forward to another romp with Velma."

She smiled broadly, "I'm sure she is as well."

And with that we concluded our meals in relative silence.

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Back in my office I had about thirty minutes to consider how to play my 'do over', as we used to say in the Navy, before the arrival of one Jenny Cartwright. It was right about then that I remembered a small box in the top left hand drawer of my desk, labeled, 'In Case Of Emergency.' That seemed a bit strong for my current situation, but I opened the drawer and picked up the box to check it out. Opening it I spied what looked like a couple dozen diamond shaped blue pills. Well, that was one way to be sure you could get hard, but that wasn't really my problem. Truth is, knowing that Jenny

wanted

me to use her mouth and her ass had me nearly ready to go.

And then my memory flashed back to my interview last Friday. To Ms. Olson's mention of a former girlfriend and lover, Tilly, and some of the crazy encounters we'd had. On one such occasion she had somehow acquired a couple tabs of viagra and suggested we spent the weekend 'sport fucking' as she called it. Aside from having to force my erection into submission with ice a couple times (that 4 hour erection warning was one I took seriously), we'd fucked literally for hours. Only stopping to come up for air, food and water. By the middle of the weekend we'd figured out how to only stop for restroom breaks. But there was a particular thing I'd discovered about myself that weekend, and a certain Ms. Cartwright was about to be the beneficiary of that knowledge. I made a quick call to Ms. Olson about a closely related topic, and she confirmed I was on solid ground unless Ms. Cartwright let me know otherwise. At a quarter to one I took half a tablet, sat behind my desk, and waited for my 'service' appointment.

Promptly at 1300 the key reader chimed and the door lock 'clicked' loudly. Entering my office was Jenny Cartwright. Blonde, very attractive, modest b-cup breasts, and now sporting a skirt and three inch heels. Her expression was neutral as she regarded me, "Mr. Jeffries," she said.

I gestured her to come forward, "Don't know who the fuck that is." I poked a thumb toward my name tag, "Name's Hank. And you must be the cunt tried to get me fired this morning."

To my surprise and pleasure, she seemed surprised and taken aback. That, or she was a really great actress. "Lemme see your badge already," I said, and she handed it to me. While her card this morning had been labeled with a list, now it was a word cloud, and with all the code words in the same size font there was clearly no priority.

Taking a deep breath I paused and considered what was there. Name calling, face fucking, choking, ass fucking, and come pretty much anywhere you like. I didn't need to check to know I was sporting an iron hard cock. I backed the chair away from my desk and stood, proudly displaying said cock as I had taken off my shorts and underwear. Again she seemed surprised. "Get on your knees and open your mouth, bitch, or I'll let Ms. Olson know what -really- happened this morning." When she didn't immediately move to do so, I went right up to her, put my hands firmly around her neck and squeezed just enough to show I meant it. As I pressed down she sank to her knees. I relinquished my grip on her throat and gathered up a handful of her shoulder length hair. When I poked my cock against her lips and she didn't open her mouth, I used my other hand to pinch her nose closed. She looked up at me with a bit of fear in her eyes, and the second she exhaled I jammed my cock into her open mouth. I got grazed by a couple teeth, but I wasn't deterred.

Her hands pushed at my thighs as I held myself halfway into her mouth. "I'm pretty sure you've got the talented tongue of a slut, so get using it," I said as I started to thrust slowly in and out of her mouth. She responded as she had this morning, rather enthusiastically running her tongue over the head of my cock. But this time, I knew that was the wrong move. It was time to start making her earn what she wanted. When I heard her exhale I thrust my cock slowly and fully into her mouth and back into her throat. Her eyes popped and she looked up at me as I held myself there, blocking her windpipe. She batted at my thighs, and after a count of ten I pulled back and watched as she coughed, spit, and gasped for air. The instant she had a breath I started to fuck her mouth with slow, long strokes. She gagged a little, and I didn't let it stop me. I repeated this move, keeping her guessing as to when she would get to breathe and just how deep I would go. The viagra was helping me hold off, but just barely. It was after several minutes of this I noticed her hands were busy under her skirt. "So the slut gets off on a face fucking, huh?"

And with that I actually tried to fuck her throat like a pussy for about a minute. By the end her face was a complete mess and the smell of sex in the air was strong. It appeared I might be on the right track after all. Still controlling the movement of her head with a handful of her hair, I pulled out of her mouth and pressed her onto her back in the middle of the fluffy rug. I threw her skirt upward, then pulled her top up over her breasts. Her hands had gone back to rubbing her pussy and she wasn't wearing any panties. I let go of her hair and put my hand on her throat, pushing enough to let her know I was still in charge. Kneeling between her thighs, I pushed one leg back then placed the head of my cock against her asshole. "Always nice to see a dirty cunt play with herself while I pound her ass."

She was looking me right in the eye as I started to push forward. To my surprise, she was clenched. Well, I figured, if that's what she wants. And with that I bucked into her with all my power. I did not anticipate what happened next. Her back arched, her breath caught, her eyes flew wide open and then rolled back, and she came like a bomb. She didn't make a lot of noise, but as I fucked her delightful ass she bucked and thrashed and moaned and squeaked like some kind of crazy ride at a sex carnival. I swear you almost needed cowboy training to stay in the saddle.

After twenty or so seconds she seemed to come back to earth, which is when she looked at me in surprise, "You, you're still going?" she panted.

At this I decided it was time to end round one and give her a reward. I moved my hand once again to her hair and held her head to the floor. "Since my little ass-slut asked for it," I said, feeling myself getting very close to coming. She seemed to try and push at me, and that tripped the trigger. At once I withdrew from the tightness that was her ass and crawled up next to her face. She might have tried to look away, but I held her in place as I groaned aloud as my climax hit. I burst all over her face, covering her with shot after shot as my ejaculation went on. She sputtered as my come landed on her mouth, then her eyes and forehead. I shouted as I peaked, then shuddered as I squirted a bit more on her.

And now it was time for the surprise. Letting go of her hair I grabbed both ankles and flipped her onto her belly. Straddling her butt I once again lined up my cock with her ass. That weekend with Tilly had revealed that while on viagra I could enjoy a refractory period without actually losing my erection, provided I kept the stimulation to a minimum. So I wasn't exactly sure how this was going to play out when I unceremoniously sank my cock back into her butt. I was greeted with a guttural 'Unngh' as I pushed into her ass. I moved very little, and while she seemed to be trying to do so, my weight was positioned to all but prevent that.

I held myself inside her, my hips hard up against her butt. She turned her come covered face to look at me, "Still, hard?"

"Nice cunt like you has such a great ass, it's really motivating." I gave her a stroke now and then, careful to never let my head past her tight sphincter. I could tell by her movements she was getting restless. She'd already come once, I'd come on her face, and yet here I was firmly ensconced in her ass...and hard as anything ever was. She bucked her hips a couple of times, groaned, then clenched her ass around me. Still, she said nothing.

Finally, after more than a few minutes and with her still anally impaled on my (happily proud of it) still quite hard cock, she turned that come covered visage toward me, tried to blow some hair (that was stuck stuck to her face with come) out of her face and said in a low and tired voice, "How, how are you still going?"