It had started out as the Monday from hell; first the secretary that John had shared with three other guys in the office, whom was secretly dubbed Stephanie the Stupid even if she was hot to look at (and rumored to be banging one of the district managers), had called off again.
Then the Xerox machine had blown up and the computer system had gone down within an hour of each other. Christ!
Just when things couldn't get any worse, during his lunch hour, John found out that his bitch of a wife had gone over the spending limit on the Visa yet again.
He wasn't a millionaire, but Jenna sure as hell spent money as if he were, and it pissed him off. John didn't even know why he kept her around; she wasn't even a good fuck anymore.
If today was any indication of what this week was going to be like, it was going to be a long and grueling one. John had already felt worn out from all the day's bullshit.
There was a true joy in the office that day, though – efficient and resourceful, with a sweet personality.
Her name was Mickie and she was the receptionist....about to become a re-SEX-onist by the end of that day, only she hadn't known it yet.
If it hadn't been for Mickie on this particular day, John truly believed the office would not be able to function, especially with Stephanie the Stupid being MIA.
She may not have been as sexy as Stephanie, but Mickie was pretty in her own way; at twenty-six, she had a smile that could light up any room, five feet, four inches of creamy fair skin, shimmering dark brown hair, and wonderful breasts.
John was always a tit man and secretly wished Jenna's had been bigger than her B cup; Mickie had to be a C or barely a D cup. Mother Nature had certainly blessed her.
But Mickie wasn't a bag of bones that lived on salads or a gym rat that bit people's heads off; she was a real woman with curves.
John couldn't understand why someone so desirable couldn't get and keep a man in her life with her ebullient personality, intelligence, her unique prettiness, and fantastic tits.
"That's just life, Mr. Grant," Mickie had told him when he did inquire her about it. "Don't worry; I'm used to it by now."
On this particular disastrous Monday, Mickie had walked into his office, checking to see if there was anything he needed since she wasn't busy, the computers were still down, and Steph was off.
Always glad to see her on even the most hellish days, John motioned for her to sit down.
She had a nervous look on her face, but smiled again when he expressed his appreciation on behalf of the others in the office for keeping things running so well despite of the day's disasters.
"Well, aren't I being paid to work?" Mickie had asked, smiling back at him. "And besides, Mr. Grant, you've helped me out a few times, especially after my last boyfriend left me for a Barbie type."
"I wish someone would give Stephanie the memo that she's being paid to work. This is the fourth day she's called off. Why the district office hired that lazy idiot is beyond me. I don't know what we would have done without you, Mick, especially today."
"Oh Mr. Grant," she said, smiling wider, then coming over to give a quick hug. "You have always been nice to me. And you're really cute, not a stick in the mud like the rest of the guys around here. Do any of them even smile?"
He was surprised at the hug, but had loved the feeling of her boobs pressing against him, no matter how brief it had been.
"Now," she asked, "Is there anything else?"
"Just these things that need filed, Mickie."
She had picked up the files on his desk to take with her to be put away in the file cabinet, dropping one on the floor.
"Sorry. I'll get that," she commented.
John moaned to himself as she bent over to pick it up. Her ass was rounded and beautiful, and he wondered for the first time what Mickie would be like in bed.
He knew it was wrong to feel this way, but John's body was taking over his mind.
He and Jenna hadn't had sex in weeks, and he wondered if the slut was cheating on him again as well as spending money.
He'd already caught her in bed with a delivery boy once and now he felt like an asshole for forgiving Jenna. And with her overspending, it was definitely time to get rid of the bitch now before she bankrupted him. The question was when.
John's eyes gazed at Mickie longer than they should, making her wonder what was going on.
"Is there something wrong, Mr. Grant?"
"First, Mickie, when we are alone, you can call me John. I think we have gotten close enough to be a bit more informal with one another. And...no, never mind, I don't want a harassment suit brought against the company."
She stared back at him, a caring girl who was concerned about him, yet she was curious.
"Never mind what? You can tell me; I won't say anything."
"Mickie....I want to make love to you."
Wow, Mickie had thought. And she thought these kind of things only happened in porn movies!
She had harbored a secret crush on John when she first began working there, but quickly banished it when she found out he was married, thinking she'd have no chance with such a dark, sexy man anyway.
And she had seen Jenna at company functions and had the impression that the woman was a high and mighty type.
Jenna had seemed more interested in rubbing elbows with the big bosses and their wives than associating with her husband's colleagues, much less some lowly secretaries and Mickie herself--the receptionist.
She had also heard about Jenna's fling from the typing pool and felt a little sorry for John. If he was in Mickie's bed every night, SHE certainly wouldn't sleep around on him.
That made her dislike Jenna even more; the woman was not only a spendthrift phony, but also a whore.
