Decisions Ch 01

Chapter 01: Fuck Buddies, Lovers and Other Complications

Q. How do you choose between four beautiful women?

A. You don't.

*****

I was having my third orgasm of the day; it was coming on slowly and I had almost reached the point of no return. We were in the executive conference room of McKennitt & Company. Everyone had left to go home hours earlier except for my personal assistant and me. She lay naked on the conference room table in front of me, our clothes scattered about the floor around us. Her legs were pulled up and her feet were just grazing my shoulders as I thrust into her warm pussy. We were both panting. I was in seventh heaven and apparently she was too.

I'm David Rogers - a newly promoted senior consultant at McKennitt. I'm thirty-two years old, a sandy-haired bachelor just under six feet tall, and based on what my PA tells me, I am a hunk. Personally, I have more than my share of insecurities to overcome but I seem to knock off one or two from the list every month or two.

My personal assistant is Pam Jennings, a late-twenties something blond beauty. She was assigned to my project about a year ago. We started flirting when we first met; however, it took about three months before we first slept together. Well, we didn't sleep -- instead, Pam pulled me into a large unused closet in the building and fucked my brains out over a lunch hour. Pam is gorgeous. She could be a model albeit for her 'home town girl' look. She's blond, blue eyed, with a trim figure.

Pam has a strong tendency, which I love, towards being a nymphomaniac and exhibitionist. Thus, our presence, at high career risk to the two of us, in the managing partner's conference room as we fucked each other with physical and vocal intensity on the long mahogany table.

The only time I saw Pam was during the week at work. There was no boyfriend-girlfriend relationship. We were co-workers and fuck buddies. We never shared our weekend activities except in the normal idle chatter as we worked together, usually with a few of the other people on the projects I was responsible for.

When I first arrived at work this morning, Pam had announced she was horny and pulled me into the small utility closet off the stationery supply room. She had delivered an absolutely exquisite blowjob to me within ten minutes. She ended with my long cock deep in her mouth as I shot off load after load of my sweet jism into her throat; she didn't lose a drop. When she was through she stood, adjusted her clothing, kissed me lightly on the lips and exited our secret room with a smile on her face, leaving me with a wet and deflating penis to contend with.

My second orgasm of the day came after lunch in a small unisex locker room the joggers use to freshen up after their runs. Pam had checked and found that no one had left any running gear near the room thus the place would be empty for the afternoon. She'd come and dragged me down the hall, locked us in the small room, yanked my pants down, sucked me to requisite hardness, and then pulled her skirt up and sat on my cock facing me. I guess she'd planned this for she wasn't wearing underwear. As we fucked she opened her blouse and unfastened her bra so I could feast on her luscious and generous breasts. Pam is probably a 36C and I love to suck and fondle her breasts until her nipples are screamingly erect. I could often bring her to orgasm just through stimulation of her beautiful mounds.

Our late lunchtime tryst ended when I jacked my semen into her wet tunnel. Pam had cum a couple of times before we came together, so I felt I'd done my manly duties of delivering pleasure to her. We used some paper towels to clean ourselves. Pam made an absorbent pad of toilet paper and put it inside her thong that she produced from a pocket in her dress. She assured me it would catch our drippings as she went back to work.

About five o'clock, Pam had stuck her head in my office and said, "I still want to fuck your brains out full tilt. If we both stay late you can finish the Sands Point Planning Project report and I can clear off a chunk of my workload. I was thinking we could christen the conference table in the MDs office; what do you think?"

I replied, "If we get caught, we're toast." She nodded vigorously in agreement yet with a big smile.

"And even on a Friday night, people come back in here all the time -- even late at night." She nodded in agreement some more.

I thought some more and said, "So this is a big calculated risk that at the time we choose no one will walk by his office on the twenty-forth floor." She kept nodding in agreement.

"And the janitorial people will have to be finished up there by the time we do anything." Pam nodded some more.

"And the guard would have to have finished his rounds up there." She kept nodding.

I wound down and finally grinned and said, "And, yes, I'd love to fuck your brains out up there in a few hours. In the meantime, how about some sandwiches or something for dinner? My treat." I paused, "Well, we can even bill it to the client."

Pam came and ran her finger seductively along my thigh, stopping just short of the rising hard-on I was beginning to nurse. "Be back is a while with food ... Boss," she said in her sexy, husky voice. She kissed my cheek and left my office and strolled out of sight with an extra waggle of her svelte hips. She never asked what I wanted for dinner.

I ploughed ahead with the Sands Point report. It was a financial analysis of a real estate deal on Long Island for a very well known area entrepreneur the firm had had as a client for over a decade. Thirty minutes passed in a flash and I was checking my data entries on a spreadsheet when Pam waltzed into my office with Chinese food from the food court downstairs. I parked some of my papers and we spread out our dinners on one end of my desk.

As we started to eat, Pam stated that something was missing. She got up and returned a few minutes later with two glasses of white wine -- from where I haven't the remotest idea. It did help to wash things down and I could actually feel some of the tension from the day fade as the food and drink bounced into my empty body cavities. After dinner, Pam reminded me that we had an appointment in a few hours and I again watched her leave my office with her sexy waggle.

A few hours later I had just wrapped up my last spreadsheet when Pam appeared at the door to my office. She vamped her way along my doorframe, pulling her skirt up and showing me lots of thigh. "Time to come and find the meaning of life, Lover!" she said to me. She came into my office and pressed her entire body against mine as I stood to meet her. We could both feel the inflating situation in my pants.

"What are things like upstairs?" I asked and gestured overhead many floors to where the twenty-fourth floor was.

"Janitor's done. Guard went through about an hour ago. We chatted. He's gone back to his desk downstairs."

"No one else around?" I asked.

"Just us horn dogs," Pam said with a lecherous grin.

Ten minutes later we were fucking on the mahogany table in the big boss' conference room. Outside the huge window of the darkened room was a spectacular view of the city. Enough light came in so we could see each other and appreciate the eroticism of what we were doing. The other side of the conference room was also all glass; only it viewed the hallway of the executive suite and some of the nearly priceless paintings the firm had thought to acquire.

After ten minutes of intense fucking, Pam had cum a couple of more times and I hit that point of no return. "Are you ready for me?" I asked.

"Give it all to me," she said and lunged up and kissed me. "Fuck me hard, Lover. Give me your juice."

I did. I blasted the last of my cum into her sweet pussy. Of course as I did, my breathing stopped and I arched back away from her as I sunk my cock deep into her body. I held that position for almost a minute as my orgasm swept through me.

Pam came with me. We'd fucked often enough that we could read each other's signals about orgasms. She was better at it that I was. This time she was spot on and reached her climax with me. She arched off the table as her 'big one' hit.

I pulled her into a seated position so we could kiss again and I could nuzzle and bite her breasts and nipples. She jerked and twitched as I delivered some post-coital pleasures to her. In the meantime I was deflating at a fairly rapid rate, in part due to nervousness that someone might catch us naked in the executive suite. I kept trying to think of a rational reason we were up there -- naked and fucking, but nothing particular came to mind except improving staff morale.

Finally, Pam squeezed her vaginal muscles and expelled me in a sudden slippery move. She laughed at her great talent. She had also expelled some of my cum and it was now evident in a large dollop of whiteness on the dark table surface. Pam rolled to her side so she didn't smear the glob and got off the table.

"My ass has splinters in it," she said with a grin. "But I still loved the fuck." She was rubbing her backside. I turned her around and massaged her back, shoulders and bubble ass for a minute, restoring some of the circulation. Pam then started to sort out her clothing from the pile on the floor and got dressed again. I was doing likewise.

Just as we finished the hallway lights came on. We both jumped. Pam said, "Quick, get over by the window." She was finishing the last buttons on her blouse and moved to join me.

We turned towards the open doorway just as one of the execs walked by. He paused at the door and looked into the dimly lit room. I greeted him, "Hi. We were working late and decided to admire the view from here rather than downstairs." Pam nodded. I thought about how lame that excuse sounded.

"Oh, OK. No problem. You're Jennings, right?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. Trying to finish up a client report tonight. This is Pam, my PA." I gestured to the buxom blond beside me and tried to smile as though nothing was going on between the two of us.

"Hi. Nice to meet you Pam," he said dismissively. "Well, I left all my things here while I took the wife to the theater. She's waiting downstairs. Excuse me and I'll be on my way. You'll lock up when you leave?"

"Oh, yes sir," I replied. Whatever his name was turned and walked away. It was then that I spotted the puddle of my cum mixed with Pam's juices on the glossy table surface. Could he have missed that? It was so obvious. I shuddered and searched my pockets for something to wipe up with. Nothing. I finally yanked a shirt tail from my pants, leaned across the table and smeared the juice in one frantic erasing gesture. The traces of moisture remained but the obvious nature of the stain was mostly gone. I tucked my damp and now odiferous shirt tail back in my pants. Pam looked on in obvious amusement.

"Shall we go back downstairs?" she finally asked.

"Whew! Yes," I said. It was then that I noticed that my heart was beating at about two hundred ticks a minute. "We almost got caught. What if he'd arrived back there five minutes earlier?"

Pam answered with a devilish look on her face, "Maybe I could have gotten fucked twice."

*****

Saturday, I'd been invited to watch a polo match out on Long Island near Westbury. I'd never seen a match except for a few brief moments in various movies, so I was looking forward to the event. I took the train out of the city; my friend and co-worker Russ Perry met me at the station and we drove together to the large estate where the match was to be played. He also worked in the City at McKennitt and had an apartment in town, but usually spent the weekends at his parent's waterfront home in Manhasset.

Russ had seen the game played before and made a valiant effort to explain the finer points of the game to me as we drove from the train station to the estate where the games were being held. He explained to me that there are four players on each team and they play chukkas of seven minutes. He commented that the history of the game went back to the sixth century B.C. The field is 300 yards by 200 yards and the goal posts at each end of the field are eight yards apart. He said the Westbury teams played games with six chukkas each, the breaks between used to change ponies (please don't call them horses!). He explained the Westbury league also used a handicapping system based on the skills of each player and wins in prior tournaments. He talked about offense and defense strategies, stopping only as we pulled into the large grassy area where we parked the car. The day was perfect; a bright blue sky with temperatures in the low eighties.

Russ led me towards a tent set up for the invited guests. Russ was an invited guest; I was a guest of a guest so I guess I qualified for the free booze. A couple of bars on each side of the large tent were rapidly passing out beers and other drinks of choice for the guests. Of course, there was no fee - most people here knew each other and Russ said it was bourgeois to take money for what you thought was a social event. Russ and I each got a beer and headed outside and towards a small set of bleachers where others were assembling to watch the start of the first match. Russ kept introducing me to various friends he knew along the way.

In the small bleachers we had a good view of the playing field. The two teams took positions and then the game was off with a flurry of whinnying horses and mid-field activity. Several chukkas later I seemed to have mastered the spectator side of the game pretty well. I let my eyes start to wander around the others in the small bleachers and those walking back and forth to the refreshment tent. Russ got restless too.

"Let's get some more beer and see if my female friends have shown up," he said leading the way down from our vista of the playing field. The sun was brilliant and I was actually glad to get in the shade as we strolled into the tent.

"Lisa!" Russ shouted with glee, "how are you? I'm so glad you guys came." Russ was pulling me towards a very pretty woman near our age. She was dressed to the nines in a flowery flock and, in spite of the fact that the entire area was grass, she was wearing heels. Russ introduced us and we shook hands.

Lisa explained mainly to Russ, "Emily's getting drinks." We turned just as a woman about my age approached carrying two glasses of wine. I was dumbstruck and suddenly in love. My heart stopped. Emily was a knock out. If Lisa was a ten, and I'd already assigned that score to her -- the maximum possible, then Emily was a twenty. She was a chart buster. Russ had fantastic taste in women.

Russ nodded and moved to give Emily a welcome hug. She was a gorgeous auburn haired, green-eyed woman with a trim figure and an elegant air about her. She was wearing a black and white polka dot summer frock, heels, plus she had a large brimmed hat. Further, she was wearing pearls that really offset her flawless tanned skin and the jeweled studs in her ears.

"Dave? Earth to Dave. This is Emily." Russ was talking to me from some other planet.

Purely on autopilot I put my handout and the two of us shook hands. I knew I was staring at her but I just couldn't stop. I was soaking up all her beauty for those cold, icy nights in my life when I'd need to be able to call forth and savor my memory of someone this beautiful that I'd actually gotten to touch, albeit briefly.

Interestingly enough, she was staring back. Finally, she asked, "Have we met?"

I regained my senses and laughed, "Isn't that supposed to be my line?" I paused and went on, "If we'd ever met I'm not sure I would have ever let you out of my sight again. So, since we've just been introduced I'm guessing that 'no, we haven't met.'" I delivered the 'line' with just the right touch of humor so it hopefully didn't come across as arrogant or so much of a line that I'd be dismissed out of hand. Fortunately, we both laughed at my humor.

Lisa and Russ were chatting beside us a mile a minute and it was clear that they'd paired off and that I was left with Emily. Emily and I kept looking at each other with a sense of awe. I finally asked, "Would you like to go see some of the game?" She nodded and we strolled out of the tent. I wasn't normally nervous around women but with Emily my knees were knocking and my hands were sweating, and suddenly I kept stuttering and getting my tongue in the way of what I was saying.

Instead of sitting in the rough bleachers we stood about fifty feet from one sideline and watched the ongoing chukka. I asked if she knew the game and was glad when she said 'no' so I could impress her with my meager knowledge of the subject. The guys with the red stripes on their helmets were still ahead.

After a while, Emily put her arm through mine. My heart stopped again then restarted going at about Mach One. My brain was in overdrive and I had adrenalin pumping through every pore of my body in excitement of sharing even this innocent touch with her. I put my hand on hers to show her I was glad we were touching. She gave me a delightful smile in return and squeezed my arm even harder in return.

Even as the game ended we continued to stand and talk. Emily told me about her marketing and graphics design background and how she was working for an ad agency on Madison Avenue in their creative department. She had a relaxed way of talking that invited deep listening; I was hanging on every word. I never wanted to forget this day. I knew this was a temporary fascination but I was savoring the moment. This angel might vanish in a second and fly back to heaven.

Emily had gone to Ohio State for two years undergrad and then transferred to the Ringling School of Art and Design in Sarasota, Florida. She told me she'd done a triple major, pulling together advertising design, computer graphics, and photography and digital imaging all into a coherent program. I was impressed.

She extracted my lineage from me as we talked. A graduate of the University of Denver, I worked in a dead-end job for a couple of years then returned and got an MBA at a school near Boston. McKennitt had recruited me as I was finishing my MBA and that led to my move to New York. Now I was a City Rat. I'd been with them five years and traveled a fair amount for them -- or rather its clients - mostly along the east coast of the U.S. I was pleased to tell her that at thirty-two I was one of the youngest senior consultants in the firm.

We traded a lot of other conversation then played who do you know and how did you get here -- with Russ? With Lisa? There were a few other connections and we both seemed to relish in these. While we talked and shared, another complete games of polo had taken place. We had also wandered around between the tent and our viewing spot beside the field several times, refreshing our drinks.

Late in the afternoon, Russ and Lisa came and found us. "Dave, we're going to head out. Can I drop you back at the train station?"

I started to reply when Emily said, "I need to take the train too. Can you drop us both off?"

Russ nodded and soon the four of us clamored into his car. Emily and I caught the 5:15 pm for the City. As we were in the tunnel I broached the idea of dinner with her.

"Oh yes, I'd love to stay with you for dinner," she replied. My heart soared; I was going to get to spend another couple of hours with her. I must have look pleased. She squeezed my arm again to show she approved.

We came up out of Penn Station and headed towards an early dinner at the Jazz Standard on East 27th Street between Lexington and Park. I'd been there once before and loved the place, although it was pricey. I rationalized the expense since it was for the most beautiful woman in the world. Further, on our train ride into the city we'd established that we were both jazz aficionados. I'd called from the train and had gotten us a rare reservation for the 7:30 pm set.