I work with my husband Tom at a large company in Orlando, Florida. We have the same boss, Mr. Thompson. Wanting to get a promotion soon, I often work late and do other duties not in my job description. It seems to be working - he now notices me in the hallway when we pass in the morning. I keep telling my husband he needs to step it up and work harder, but he's one of those guys who are the last to get to work and the first to leave. I keep telling my husband how important it is to go the extra mile, but he just laughs and tells me that having fun, not working all the time is what life is all about.
Today, Mr. Thompson called me down to his office - something he's never done before. I thought, well, I must be getting fired or something else bad, because nothing good ever comes from being called into your bosses office, unless of course it's the opposite and he's giving me a raise. Either way, I was nervous, because I just didn't know what to expect.
When I got there, his secretary, Mrs. Snodgrass, told me to go right in. My hand shook as I turned the knob and entered. It was a big office and very intimidating. As I walked toward his desk, I felt Mr. Thompson's eyes check me out. It was casual Friday, and I was wearing a black skirt and a nice top, which was probably too low cut. I hope he doesn't say anything about my attire. My breasts are somewhat large for my size and I sometimes draw attention because of it, something I certainly didn't want to do in this situation.
"How are you, Mrs. Benito? You look nice today." He started out, seeming calm. Maybe I was mistaken, maybe nothing is wrong and I did get that raise, but I was so nervous I was about to pass out. It didn't help that his eyes kept dropping to my cleavage.
"I'm fine, thank you." I answered, feeling like a complete idiot for being so nervous.
"I'm glad. Well, I'll get right to the point. I want to talk to you about your husband." My boss leaned forward and looked me right in the eyes as he spoke. There was no doubt he was serious.
"Yes, Mr. Thompson, has he done something wrong?" I asked, almost knowing what he was going to say next.
My boss started telling me what a loser my husband was."It seems he always has an excuse for not following through with projects and frankly, I have to let him go. Everyone has to pull their weight around here and frankly, Tom just doesn't."
I shifted in my seat, fighting this sick in my stomach feeling. "I don't know what to say, I know his mind wanders, and he kids around a lot - But I know he can do good work. Mr. Thompson, I don't know what to do."
I was babbling, and didn't have much to defend Tom with - he is lazy. Jesus, he never helps around the house or with the kids. Mr. Thompson wasn't paying much attention to what I was saying though, he was now fixated on my top, or should I say, my breasts.
"Um, Mr. Thompson, what can I do to talk you into keeping him?" I asked boldly.
"I do notice how hard you work, Mrs. Benito. Maybe I can come up with something." He told me, acting quite concerned.
"Oh, Mr. Thompson..." I started to say, but stopped as he continued.
"I have quite a bit of pull in the company. I'm sure I could persuade one of the other branches to take him, how would that be? But he better improve his performance or they'll fire him." He told me, his focus shifting from my eyes to my cleavage again. I blushed, but leaned forward a little, figuring that if he was interested in how I look, I'd play that card to keep my husband working.
"How can I thank you?" I said, almost crying.
"Well, it will take more than a thank you to make us even." He said.
I froze. What did that mean? My mouth became dry and I wondered if he meant he wanted to see my breasts. By the way he was staring, I guessed that was it, but he could mean he wanted sex. God, what was I going to do?
"Mr. Thompson, I will do whatever I have to, you know, to keep Tom working. We need his job - we just bought a newer second car and well..." I was cut off by Mr. Thompson's telephone. He picked it right up and went into a heavy conversation about a supply center that was not making a delivery on time or something like that.
"Let me tell you how disappointed I am to hear that, Mr. Christi, maybe I should find someone else to run your operation. He said firmly into the hand piece. He glanced over to me and gave me a wave, indicating I was to leave.
I got up and walked out, not sure what I was supposed to do next. For the rest of the morning, I thought about what Mr. Thompson had said to me about what it would take to pay him back and decided, that yes, he was talking about sex. How far was I willing to go, would I have to give him a hand job? No, too high school. A blowjob? Maybe I could do that. Intercourse? I'm not sure I could go that far - I was married and even though my husband was a lazy man, he was still the father of my children. My heart beat faster as I ran all this through my mind, trying to come up with a solution.
The hours past slowly, but at 3:00, I got up and went into the restroom and looked in the mirror. I decided I had to do what I had to do and put on a fresh coat of lipstick and walked down to Mr. Thompson's office, determined that in the best interest of our family, I was going to have to cross a line I never thought I'd have to.
Mrs. Snodgrass asked if I had an appointment and I told her that I didn't. She gave me a look like I was taking up not only her time, but that of Mr. Thompson and told me to sit and see if something opened up. I sat there for ten minutes, getting more and more nervous and time passed. Then she snapped me out of my daze and told me I had five minutes.
By the time I opened his door, all the confidence I had mustered was gone and I was a wreak. My legs shook as I walked toward his desk. I had no plan, I was just winging it, but somehow my instincts made me drop to my knees in front of him. He spun his chair to face me as a curious look crossed his face.
