Greg's thick, callused hands perspired with anxiety. For the past hour, he tapped his foot on the dark, rosewood floor as the man on the other side of the desk droned on his performance review. As the Directing Manager at the Ford Motors Company, Greg worked tirelessly perfecting the company's fleet of efficient, stylish, and durable automobiles. Sales, even in a double-dip recession economy, increased steadily every quarter in the past three years and unlike the other American car giants, the company didn't need to take a second government bailout to keep its finances afloat. Greg could feel the sweet taste of victory on his tongue, waiting for the magical words "You've been promoted" to fall out of the President's mouth.
"Greg?" He straightened his back, scooted to the edge of his chair and focused his attention on his boss. At fifty-eight years old, the current President of Ford Motors held a youthful vitality in his face; his peppered hair cropped his expansive forehead perfectly, hiding the wrinkles that defined his true age. His cobalt blue eyes pierced into Greg's cloudy gray eyes while his thin crisp lips turned into an upward smile.
"Yes, Mr. President?" Two years shy of forty, Greg was beginning to feel like he was reaching the prime stage of his life. A modest six feet and two inches, Greg had a firm, healthy body with wide shoulders and broad back thanks to his workout regiment before and after work. The youthful vitality that made him popular in high school and college had not left his athletic body; coupled with his freshly-minted MBA from the University of Michigan, he yearned for the jet-setter lifestyle that he labored hour-by-hour to reach.
"I have had many men sit on the other side of this desk with the same look in their eyes-a quenching thirst, ravishing hunger for power." He started, his eyes going back and forth between Greg and his performance sheet. "While your performance is similar to these other men, you, Mr. Thomas, hold great potential." Greg's body flushed with heat, he could feel himself rising from the chair, ready to shake his boss's hand.
A high pitched ring interrupted Greg's concentration. His eyes diverted to the phone on the President's desk, impatiently waiting for the phone to stop ringing. The President picked up the phone.
"Yes?" The President responded. Greg bit his lip- in all of the years he had been called to the President's office, he had never known his boss to pick up the phone in the middle of the meeting. The insides of his throat contracted- what if the President intended to pass the promotion over him to someone else.
"Go ahead and bring her in." The tension in Greg's throat relaxed; all of the managers, including himself, were all men. He brought in someone from the Board of Directors to approve of his decision, Greg reconciled with himself. He rolled his shoulders backwards, then forwards and dusted off what lint was on his only tailored black suit. He wedged back in his chair so that his back was pressed against the seat and flexed his fingers to eradicate his nerves. I need to appear confident, not scared.
The door opened and icy cool air blew on Greg's neck. The fine hairs on his body pricked upwards from the top of his exposed neck, down his collar and through his collared white t-shirt and brown jacket. The confidence he mustered just moments before slowly eroded into a cautious, weary feeling.
"I'm here as you ordered, Mr. President." Greg turned his head slightly as a tall, olive-skinned woman walked towards him and his boss. She was wearing a charcoal-black business jacket and matching pencil skirt that stopped two inches above her knee. A forest-green satin blouse revealed the cleavage of her round, pert breasts and she wore flesh-colored pantyhose that reached the top of her thighs. Her inky black hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she wore rectangular tinted glasses. Greg flashed through his memory on who this woman could be-was this a new Board Director that he was unaware of? He normally knew when a new person joined the Board of Directors with all of the memos the Public Relations Director loved to frequently publish. However, in the past seven years in his position, he never recognized a woman joining the Board of Directors.
"Ah, Sylvia, so glad you could make it." Sylvia's flush red lips curved upward into a smile as she curtly sat down in the chair next to Greg, crossing her legs just enough to ride up her skirt. With his life dedicated to the company, Greg didn't have time for a love life, let alone sexual activity. He couldn't remember the last time he had sex, and despite the importance of the matter at hand-his promotion-he found his eyes crawling over Sylvia's body. Her elongated neck melted into her narrow shoulders which heaved in unison with her bulging chest. Her stomach was taut and slim, while her hips were wide and round giving her the perfect hourglass figure. His eyes wandered lower to her slender legs, and to his surprise, a slit in her skirt revealed black and green lace panties in plain sight. He could feel his cock stir from its slumber underneath his pants and slowly edged his hand towards Sylvia's body.
"As I was saying Mr. Thomas." The President coughed; Greg jumped and turned his attention back to his boss. "At Ford Motors, we have a culture of loyalty, commitment and dedication." Greg nodded mindlessly at his boss's words; his thoughts were preoccupied with Sylvia-if there was a way he could get her alone, slide his hands up her skirt and grab her soft, smooth skin. He longed to feel her full, thick lips pressed against his own, and her circular, perky breasts in between his fingers and his teeth. He was tempted to pick her up and bend her over the table, spread her legs and pound her pussy away.
"Mr. Thomas." Greg smacked his cheek as he returned to the present. What is wrong with me? Today was the most important day of his career and he was daydreaming of fucking a woman whom he had just laid his eyes on with no formal meeting.
"Yes, sir?" He asked.
