Spreadsheet Formulas

"That formula has circular references, sweetheart!" my boss told me as I titillated her clitoris with the head of my cock.

Oh, so she's more of a vaginal than a clitoral, I thought to myself and changed tack. Is that normal with Indian women, I wondered. I drew out and she seemed to panic. "Vhere are you going?" as she shoved me back in with her hands on my buttocks. So we settled for long strokes which soon had her wailing in all the languages of her native land, and others she did not know.

In English, "You will finish meeeeee!" She stiffened, then broke into a trembling as her orgasm shook all through her. Her pockmarked face shone with the sweat of our exertions.

"Well done darling!" I panted out. She looked at me in as thankful an expression as could be imagined. This was no longer my boss at the bank, who had sent down to the data processing centre for someone to help her with inputting figures in her complex Excel spreadsheets. Some months earlier she had been but one of the management trainees doing the rounds of various departments in order to learn how the bank operated, before settling down to the post they had been hired for. When she came to the DPC, Kuria the supervisor assigned her to my terminal. She got quite chatty with me about my work, other departments she had passed through, and other topics.

I must have made some sort of lasting impression on her because as soon as she settled down to the newly-created Financial Controller's post, she asked the DPC bosses that as far as possible it should be myself they sent up to her. This became the big turning point of my professional as well as my personal life.

As soon as I reported to her office she greeted me effusively.

"Good morning, Davis! Please sit down."

"Good morning Miss Varsanji!" I returned. In those first few moments I already felt at ease. She then set to explaining that I will be using a spreadsheet program. "Have you used one before? I think you told me of using an Apple IIe."

Joy and expectation filled my breast as I explained that indeed I had used one called VisiCalc.

"I do not seem to have come across it at my former workplace though we had plenty of Apple IIe there." she said. "What is it like?"

I tried to describe the features of that program that I could remember.

"Have you ever worked with a computer mouse?"

A puzzled frown crossed my face. "No, I am not sure what that is."

"I will soon show you." She stood up and bade me follow her. "This is a Macintosh Plus computer from the same company that makes the IIe." That made it sound friendly and familiar already.

"I want you to go through this tutorial first. You struck me as being quite intelligent. It should not take more than two days."

I smiled at that vote of confidence as I sat down in front of the machine next to which was a cassette player. "Listen to the instructions and perform them on the computer," she said as she moved off.

I finished the first side and as I turned the tape for Side 2, I wondered if I would really need to come back to it the next day. I went back over it to make sure I had missed nothing. Then I sat playing with the mouse on the screen for another half hour. I was hesitant to tell Rozmin that I had completed a two-day course in a little over two hours. But then an idea crossed my mind: there might be several cassettes, of which I have only seen one!

"Excuse me Miss Varsanji! I have done that part."

She looked up with a shocked expression. "Both sides?"

"Yes. I am ready for the next tape."

"Did you lie to me that you have never used a computer mouse?" But her eyes twinkled with controlled amusement and admiration of some sort.

In an amused voice I told her that that was indeed the first computer mouse I had ever set eyes upon. I barely stopped myself from bringing in rodents.

"That is quite inconvenient for me as I had set two days for you. I obviously did not quite see how intelligent you were." She lifted a heavy-looking volume from her desk. "This is the program manual. See if you can make head or tail of it."

"Thank you!" I strode out of her office bubbling over with excitement. The first few pages seemed very basic to me, but I read through them all the same in case I missed something important. By the time I had reached Chapter 3 I knew I had to adjust my speed so that I didn't become more of a nuisance to Rozmin's schedules.

By the afternoon I had got to the point where I felt the need to have the actual program running on the computer before I could follow everything. A little pretence is not bad; I shall not ask her for the program disk before tomorrow, I thought.

"Excuse me, this was good, but I may need to have the actual program running to enable me understand what I read better." I said to her that evening.

"Oh dear! Did I forget to give you that? How far did you get?"

"I may have to go over Chapter 3 again tomorrow."

"That is really impressive. I am very pleased that my instincts were correct about you, and that Kuria agreed to let me have you."

I left the bank walking on a cushion of air. You can imagine, gentle reader, that for the first time in a long while I actually looked forward to going to work the next morning.

"Ah, there is my brilliant student! I am going to enjoy teaching you." Rozmin was looking at me with the same expression as I saw when she had asked me about lying to her yesterday. She then explained that we will be working on financial analysis models and producing reports for the Management Group. These were the top managers who reported directly to the Managing Director, five men, all told.

She handed me a diskette, telling me she had made a backup copy for me to use.

Again the brilliant white screen of the Mac, as I quickly began to think of it, made me feel as if I was in another world. The terminal screens we used in the DPC were of green phosphor, with the text a more brilliant green. So was the Apple IIe.

That day I worked at Excel's functions, trying out one after another. Some required more complex data to operate on, which I did not have. I felt as if I had been received into a select priesthood.

Rozmin complained in her unusual manner that she expected I would not be encountering functions any time soon. She shrugged when saying she will now have to give me the models she had developed to receive the inputs from General Ledger Branch Financial Statement (BFS) from which she would derive the reports. This was, in her mind, a task for the following week.

When she gave me the diskette with the blank formats with just the formulas I was surprised that I had indeed gone beyond. She had used quite straightforward formulas involving adding up ranges of figures. Very few of them had any multiplication. So I took down one of the large sheets produced by the General Ledger department and tried putting in some of the figures. I was struck by how fast the Mac recalculated the new values of the formulas as soon as I entered a new number. With VisiCalc I had to issue a command to recalculate, then wait while the numbers seemed to ripple through the sheet. Here I hardly saw anything before the new value appeared! It was amazing. When I was done, I felt reluctant to tell Rozmin what I had done in case I was further messing up her timings.

But when I popped into her office and told her that I had done one day's worth of postings, she looked at me in that funny way of hers then broke into a beaming smile. "Show me!"

We went to the Mac and she looked at the figures in all their correct places, her voice was filled with something like awe. "Davis, you are wonderful. I cannot believe how fortunate I was in sitting at your terminal in the DPC. Otherwise I would never guessed at what you are capable of. We are going to make a huge difference in the reporting function of the Bank, you and I."

When she spoke those last words I felt a clenching in my chest. I knew I was free from the life of a lowly clerk. I fantasised on promotions coming my way and life taking on a completely new turn.

On the same floor was the Personnel department and the head of Data Processing. I was slightly abashed that I had been thinking only of myself when I heard her telling these others of my feat. I did not see it as such, but my boss' pride in my work filled me with a determination to do everything in my power to help her realise her dreams for the new Financial Controller's department, of which we were the first two members.

On Friday Rozmin decided that we would have a little entertainment to herald our new future. She took me to a Chinese restaurant where we had a leisurely dinner followed by a sweet wine. I wondered whether this choice was due to her being unaccustomed to taking stiff drinks, or perhaps she did not think I could handle anything stronger.

"Where do you live?" she seemed to have forgotten since I had answered that question in the DPC. I told her. She said I may have to think of moving to somewhere nearer town in case we had to work late and she would not be able to drop me home and drive back alone. I promised to give it deep thought.

As we left, I told her that since it was not late enough for transport home to have stopped running, she could simply take me to the bus stop. "Are you sure you don't want to go drinking with your girlfriends?"

"No of course not! I would not want to spoil the effects of that dinner," I replied.

As I rode on the bus home her question, seeming to hide a hint of jealousy, puzzled me. It was true that I had enjoyed my boss' company, but I did not think it went to arouse personal feelings. It seemed that she getting fond of me, other than as a junior colleague?

I will admit freely that I was eager for Monday to come so I could launch fully into my financial statements. I attacked the task with gusto, drawing on the proficiency at data input that I had garnered at the DPC and earlier. Unlike the introduction to Mac and Excel, this one required much less brain power so I flew through the first month's worth of BFS. Rozmin told me we would also need to input Mombasa and the financial company (FINCO) data so as to arrive at a consolidated balance sheet.

Satisfied that balance sheet work only required repetitive input and therefore would be up-to-date by and by, she then introduced me to the Cost of Funds report. In this one she wanted to highlight the ratio of total interest the Bank earned from loans to that paid to customers for deposits. As there were several categories of each, it took quite a bit of input work. Then I noticed that these figures came from the same BFS that I used for the balance sheets. While reading through the Excel manual I had come across a way of linking sheets so that one picked data from the other. I began to wonder if I could input once and have the cost of funds read from sheets I had already input. I put the idea to Rozmin who looked doubtful, but told me to give it a try. She had not considered that possibility.

So I started setting up the linking formulas which required concentration to make sure the cell references were accurate. I however continued inputting the balance sheets and the Cost of Funds in parallel. I compared the index given by the directly input to the one that used the linked sheets. The difference was only in the third decimal place, which Rozmin attributed to rounding errors. After that I stopped input to cost of funds and used the linked method. She was so happy with my innovation that she took me out at the end of our first month of working together.

Our relationship had deepened to the point that she almost considered me on a par with herself. She decided that I should take professional accounting exams so that we could work with greater harmony because I would understand the reasoning behind her decisions. She seemed to think I could make as good decisions as herself given the right training.

So on this evening we were more relaxed with each other in the informal setting of the restaurant. She looked deeper into my eyes, and "girlfriends" came into my mind again. She hung on my arm as we left, declaring herself unfit to drive home, and handing me the keys. It was the first time I had been to her residence.

She kissed me hard on the lips and I lost any inhibitions I had, kissing her back with equal vehemence. I held her in both arms around her waist as we got hotter and hotter. All thought of leaving her in this aroused state without meeting her need seemed heartless to me. Had she not rescued me from a life of drudgery in the DPC? Had she not introduced me to Mac and Excel, accounting methods through the courses she made sure the Bank paid for? I was nothing if not grateful to her influence on my life. So I was more than ready to do as she wanted.

"Let's go to my bedroom, darling!" The pats, soft looks and words that we exchanged in the office here erupted into full blown lust. I held her fragile frame delicately and fondled her all over.

"Ooh, darling Davis, I am yours today!" I pinched one of her smallish tits between my fingers, making her jump. "It seems I am the tutored here!" We shed clothes rapidly and efficiently. Soon we were on her large, queen-sized bed.

I bent my head to lick a breast. "Ooooh!" she moaned. I ran a tongue around the aureole then flicked the nipple. She put an arm around my neck, locking me in place. My one arm went south to her tummy area. She had had no children and it was quite flat, with a slight swelling below the navel, but that was all.

I rubbed her gently, while her legs thrashed about in lust, her breath coming in short gasps. I decided to touch my boss' pussy. A thought held me back. If I did, surely our relationship would be altered for good.

As if she sensed my thoughts, "Darling, I want to feel your tender fingers on my womanhood." The die was cast.

So further south I ventured, wondering, like Vasco da Gama, what storms I would encounter at the Cape of Good Hope. I found that her cunt hairs were very sparse. Does she even need to shave? I wondered. I ran a finger down her slit, finding her slippery wetness. I almost jumped with excitement. At any rate my breath rasped in my throat. I passed over her clitoris and titillated her entrance. She was mad with desire by now. Her hand gripped my cock with such power, I feared she would pull it up by the roots!

"Excuse me Miss Varsanji, may I come in?"

Slap!

Pushing myself up by my elbows, I brought my body over hers. She still had my cock in that death-grip. She tried to bring it to her entrance but failed. She groaned in frustration. A second try was more successful, for I felt her wetness with the head of the cock. I made gentle movements but could not make much progress with her hand still in the way. She quickly sensed this and removed it. I drove into her with power, causing her body to jerk.

"Did I hurt you, Miss Varsanji?"

Slap! On my buttocks.

I pulled out, then in again with insistent zeal. She merely flinched thus time. By the third and fourth stroke we had settled down. I bent down and gave her a huge kiss of gratitude. Instead it was she who said, "Oh, thank you Darling!" We were both panting hard. I swivelled my body this way and that. She screamed her pleasure. I changed the strokes, pulling downwards as I drew out, causing the head to tickle the roof of her channel. Her body picked up a new frenzy at this. Two strokes were all it took, before she exploded into an orgasm of such power she nearly threw me off her. I grabbed the edge of the mattress to maintain my purchase, at the same time slowing my movement to a gentle rhythm. I stopped briefly and could feel her muscles clenching and unclenching around my cock. Her legs were still kicking and from her throat came a sound like she was in her death throes. Gradually she climbed down and opened her eyes.

"Oh, wow! I needed a lover in my bed almost more than a data entry clerk at the office!"

"I will always seek to give you the utmost a man can give his woman, Darling of mine!' I returned. I made a small movement and she tensed.

"Don't! I am still very sensitive."

Obviously her fellow Ismaili had neglected her for a long time if her cunt was still behaving like a teenager's. We lay like that for some minutes, before my cock had shrunk enough to slip out without exciting her cunt walls too much. I rolled to my side but brought my arm over her body and grasped one small breast. I palpitated it until I felt a slap on my wrist.

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I opened the letter with the Bank's insignia with trembling hands. I read with mounting excitement. I caught Rozmin watching me surreptitiously. I had been given a salary increase at a time which was not my anniversary as is normal. I lay the letter on the desk and stared at my Mac's screen. No wonder Rozmin had encouraged me to take an appliance loan, and had asked me if I did not want a "proper stereo" when I gave her the form to sign. I had taken a TV, fridge and cooker. I had replied that it would leave me with less than two-thirds of my pay if I included one. Such were the rules governing staff appliances loans.

"Leave this with me and shop for one at lunchtime. Don't worry about anything, Davis!" She never used endearing words in the office. The loan application was approved by the staff loans officer without any fuss, to my utter consternation.

Now I knew what she meant about not worrying. With this increase the loan repayment deduction would leave me with almost the take-home pay I had before applying for the loan!

I received a huge boost when she stepped out of a Management Group meeting, with one of our printouts. She wanted to find out what the profit figure would come to if one of the loan figures were changed to a certain level. I could not answer immediately but set to work writing a short macro with a loop that would iterate until the desired figure was reached. I made a fresh printout and took it down one floor where they were meeting in the boardroom. The MD's secretary had evidently been warned of my coming and waved me on. When I knocked on the door my palms were sweating, but Rozmin came to the door. I handed the printout to her and turned to leave.

Before the door closed I distinctly heard her voice,"...see what I told you..." I was sure I had scored with the shakers and movers in the Bank. She confirmed this when she came back to our office.

"It would have taken me more than a morning's work to work through those figures. None of the other managers would have liked to take on such a task. You can imagine the looks on their faces when I presented your fresh printout! They think we are wizards." How proud I was to hear that I had built the image of my boss in the eyes of the senior-most leaders of the Bank!

That evening at her house we had a dinner (it was a Friday, when we usually stayed the night together) of roast potatoes and steak. I enjoyed her cook's choice of vegetables. In bed she rode me cowgirl fashion to two or possibly three orgasms. I loved letting her take control in our lovemaking from time to time.

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When I was preparing for my final accounting exams, Rozmin asked whether I had ever taken any computing certification. When I said I had not yet done so, she asked, "Why?"

"I did not want conflict with my work. It would look as if I was planning to seek other employment, and you know how that is viewed."

"I want you to sit some exams. At least get a diploma although you could obtain a degree without much trouble."

So I did. By the end of our first year of working together, I had my computing diploma alongside my accounting ones.

One day just for fun, I used the Mac's graphics programs to create a likeness of the Bank's logo. It looked so close to the real thing that I decided to surprise my beloved boss by placing it over one of our by-now numerous reports. She was shocked to discover I had done it all on our machine. She asked if I could make a look-alike of one of the Bank's cash vouchers. It came out almost authentic. Ecstatic, Rozmin saw she could help the Bank save the huge costs of creating Bank stationery and have it all done in-house. I would do the design and artwork then it would be mass produced at the Godown. This project was a huge success, adding to her esteem.