It was past 7 when Raj wrapped up for the weekend. He was almost a leg out of the office building when he remembered something which should be brought to the notice of Mr. Kumar, the big boss. Cursing under his breath, he ran up the four flights of stairs to Mr. Kumar's cabin.
He always took the stairs. He figured that it was a good way to stay in shape since he was not a gym person. It seemed to work too. Though not muscularly built, there was not an extra ounce of fat on his lithe body. He especially prided his tight derriere. A fine specimen that was. Many a woman, and more than his fair shaire of men as well, had been unable to resist copping a feel of those perfect buns. He quite liked the attention.
This late in the day the office was a ghost town. As he made his way through the empty hallways, Raj could not help but look forward to an evening of rest and much needed relaxation. The last 48 hours had been a whiz. He found his thoughts drifting towards that night with Sita, her fragrance intoxicating him as their bodies intertwined in a passionate frenzy. He could taste the sweat on her pink nipples, feel her hot breath on his face. Her wrapped around his waist held him in a vice-like grip, her sex milking him dry. She was all woman.
He shook the thoughts off. He had a couple of minutes of business to attend to. Mr. Kumar's secretary greeted him in his outer office. She was a nice woman, Cheryl. Big, buxom. Her blouses always filled out the right way.
"Is the boss in?" Raj enquired.
"Yes. Go right in. I was just about to leave. So you won't see me on your way out. Have a great weekend!" and with that she picked up her handbag and jaunted out, shaking her butt in ample measure for his viewing pleasure.
This was odd, he thought. In all his time at the company, he had never seen Mr. Kumar's door closed. He was one of those new breed of managers who believed in open-door policies. Perhaps it was closed my mistake by a rookie who did not know better. He thought no further of it and walked in. He should have knocked.
Mr. Kumar was your typical average Indian male on the wrong side of 50. He had a beer belly, courtesy of fine whiskey. He was less than 5 and a half feet tall, and about half as much round. He had very fair skin, the kind one gets by not having to get out in the sun for 20 years or more.
For some reason which Raj could never put his finger on, everyone in the organisation revered him. They latched on to his every word as if he was Moses himself. He cracked silly jokes, which everyone found supremely funny. And he was obsessed with penis size. Every second joke or remark or quip from him had phallic references. Being as high up the ladder that he was, he could get away with utterances that would otherwise have been most inappropriate.
He was usually quite badly dressed. For a man whose trousers probably cost more than Raj's salary, this was bizzare. His clothes never fit him well. On occasions, Raj had almost advised him to change his tailor. Raj would have done anything to get the man to drop those trousers!
And dropped them today he had. Raj never imagined his wish would literally come true. A sight it was! Mr. Kumar leant against the window ledge, his trousers down to his ankles, his penis in his hands, eyes closed. He was most certainly fantasising of Sita while he masturbated. His hands moved up and down furiously. Had he been uncut, surely such rapid movement would have scraped his penis.
Despite himself, Raj let out a silent laugh. He was quick on his feet. Took out his cellphone and clicked a few pictures. They would surely come in handy someday. Then his eyes fixed on his penis. He was quite small. Large enough to please a woman if he knew what he had to do but small for all other reasons. Raj finally understood the man's fixation with penis size. It was his inferiority masquerading as superiority. Raj's smile broadened into a grin.
It was less than two minutes when Raj heard him let out a gutteral moan. His cock spluttered and shot out a few drops of semen, some of it almost landing as far as Raj's shoes.
Finally, Mr. Kumar opened his eyes. To his credit, he did not flinch. It was as if this was not the first time he was caught with his pants down. He zipped up non-chalantly.
"Yes, what brings you here?" he asked.
Raj played along. If Mr. Kumar wanted to pretend nothing happened, then Raj could too. For now at least.
"The Brazillian contracts. We hear the government might go with the other fellows. I thought you shoud get a heads up." Raj said.
Mr. Kumar's burrows furrowed. This was an important contract. He had bid big. It was either going to make or break the company.
"Why don't you sit down and tell me everything you know?"
Raj started at the beginning. Mr. Kumar listened intently. He even asked him to share his views on the matter. Mr. Kumar was not known to do that with rookies. It was his way of welcoming someone into the big league. Raj did not know what gave him that privilege. He was too young. Was it a bribe to keep things quite? Or did Mr. Kumar reward him for his ability? He did not know. And frankly, did not care.
"Tell you what" Mr. Kumar said when they finished the discussion "why don't you come over to my place around midnight? I have a small party. We could discuss this further."
Raj knew Mr. Kumar well enough to spot a bribe when he saw one. Small parties at his place only meant the top brass was invited. For a newbie, this was the chance of a lifetime. Of course he said yes.
It was almost 8 when he got home. Four hours to the party. He took his clothes off and hit the sack. He wanted to be fresh and at his intellectual best.
He dressed in casual black slacks and a dark blue button-down. Like clock-work, he joined the party at midnight.
He was overwhelmed. This was his first high class party. It was a small gathering. About 10 people, all of them people who matter. He could not take his eyes off the women. They were all class – dames in evening wear that clung to their bodies like a second skin. Good thing he left his shirt tails hanging out.
"Welcome, Raj" Mr. Kumar greeted. He went on to introduce him to his guests. No one had ever seen Mr. Kumar do that. For this moment on, Raj was his prodigy. He was making everyone else knew that.
He met the chairman and his wife, the MD and his wife, the VP and his wife and another couple he had never seen before. All the wives were ravishing. He almost drooled over on particular wife.
She had caught his eye the moment he walked in. Sitting atop the bar stool, her perfect ass called out to him. Her evening gown was backless, the back so low that it showed the top of her butt-crack. She was a dark-skinned Indian woman, about 30 with long black thick hair. Her body seemed the work of the finest sculptor, her cleavage deep and inviting, her breasts full and supple. And what a smile! When she smiled, she became the only person in the room. Her radiance reflected off the walls. Her even straight white teeth drawing you. He never got her name. She was the other half of that couple he had never seen before.