Although this piece could be read as a standalone story, you might enjoy it more if you have read the preceding parts.
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As a brief recap, a couple of months ago I separated from the Navy 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. That was actually normal given that my new job was to sexually service the women of Foxx Inc.
Excellent work if you can get it.
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After several weeks at Foxx Inc, I was feeling pretty comfortable and secure. I hadn't had any more 'complaints' (see Ch. 03) and my female coworkers seemed genuinely pleased with my, um, performance. At the time there was one potential problem I was keeping an eye on, and I'll have to recount that in another chapter. This chapter is about a Friday to remember.
It was noon on a Thursday, and I had yet to be visited by one of the Foxx women. That was odd, although not completely unheard of. I'd grabbed lunch early and was looking over proposals for the new janitorial services contract when my phone
dinged
. A text from Ms Olson, the lead HR rep, simply told me to check email. Any contact, even a text, from that woman had me well on my way to hard in moments. I woke my computer and read her message.
"Mr. Jeffries, tomorrow the firm will be holding a 'Free Use Friday.' To be sure things go as well as desired, I have arranged some training this afternoon. Please study this email and commit the customs and rules of FuF to memory. Then, promptly at 1305, come to my office for a practical exam; I will be the one available for free use. See you soon."
Attached to the email was a document, and adjusting my now fully hard cock, I opened it to learn what she had in mind.
"The concept of free use is as follows: one party, in this case women of the firm wearing blue or black dresses, skirts or slacks on Free Use Friday, gives prior consent for sex without further discussion. The other party, in this case the PBS, can, at any time, engage in sexual acts with the consenting party. None of the women present will acknowledge anything sexual is happening. For example, you may find a woman wearing a black skirt having a conversation with some coworkers in the breakroom, walk up, bend her over a table and commence fucking her, and no one in the room is to
notice
you are doing so.
As you will be engaging the women at the time of your choosing, it is your responsibility to ensure the firm is not embarrassed or placed in jeopardy. For example, there are circumstances, say when someone is on a video call, that require discretion. Note, this does not mean you cannot or should not engage in sexual acts with them during a call; however, you must carefully consider what the other side will see or hear.
During FuF you may find a woman you wish to engage, take any appropriate precautions regarding discretion, pose them as desired, undress them as needed, and get on with business. While they will not acknowledge you, they will participate. For example, if you put their hand around your cock they will stroke you. If you undress a woman you need not redress them when you depart.
For your first FuF at the firm, we have decided to keep the rules simple.
-Any woman wearing a black or blue dress, skirt or slacks is a consenting player
-All woman so consenting give prior consent for: vaginal sex (to include internal ejaculation), oral sex (give/receive through to orgasm), undressing, all manner of breast fondling, facials, titty fucking, and handjobs."
I pushed back from the desk and exhaled. Wowzers. I checked the time and found there were still forty-five minutes until my meeting with Ms Olson. Knowing I would not be able to focus on the proposals after that reading, I decided instead to double down on my hydration by knocking back a bottle of water and a pineapple juice.
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For no reason in particular on this day I was dressed as a custodial engineer, aka janitor. However, after reading over the email a few times I decided to change my attire and opted instead for office intern. Ditching the utility shirt and blue trousers, I donned black slacks, dress shoes, a white shirt and a tie. I left the underwear off as I figured they would just get in the way. Knowing precisely how long it took to get to Ms Olson's office, I left at 1302 and arrived at her door at 1305. Nearly hard before I even opened the door, my brain ran through a dozen scenarios in the brief moment between scanning my key card and opening the door.
Ms Olson was behind her desk, engaged in a discussion with someone else that I did not immediately see. Closing the door behind me, I noted the presence of a smartly dressed woman perhaps mid-30s in age. She had black hair in a tight bun at the back of her head, a white blouse, blue blazer and a black skirt. While I recognized her as a recent hire, I did not so much as know her name. Her eyes darted to me for an instant, and a flush came over her otherwise rather pale complexion. It seemed she was ignoring me, which was very much in line with the fantasy angle I'd been told to expect. Of course, the flush was a slight giveaway. After a brief glance, I turned to Ms Olson, who was seated, cross-legged in her chair, one leg slightly swinging.
"Ms Garland, Elise," the HR rep said, "You are going to have to make a better case than that if you want me to hire an assistant for you."
"I, well, you see," the woman I assumed to be Ms Garland said with a slight stammer.
