I wasn't sure how I was going to break this to Jean. I didn't see that there was much of a choice and the decision that had to be made was quite clear.
She came in to my office. She was always dressed so prim and proper. Today, she was wearing a short dark jacket over a knee length skirt, white blouse with a lace trim tightly buttoned to her neck.
'Sit down, Jean.'
She sat. The way people sit tells you a lot about them. Jean sat quite formally, legs together, knees slightly to one side of the bodyline. Her hands, one clasped in the other, lay in her lap. She sat upright, her head turned just enough to keep her eyes focussed on me.
'Miss Frustrated' was what the office girls called her. She was not unattractive, but significantly older than the others, so there was less that they had in common. Her dress sense was 'sensible' and she had little time for idle chatter. To put it simply: she did not get on.
'You are probably aware that the company is going through a difficult period,' I began. She looked up at me and I wondered whether she could guess what I was going to say.
'I have been told that there will have to be redundancies,' I continued, ' and that is always a difficult decision to make.'
'Not me, Sir,' she said, 'please not me.'
'We have to make some sacrifices,' I said, 'the company has no choice.'
'Please, ' she said, 'not me.'
'Jean,' I said, 'this is never easy.'
'Please, Sir. I need this job.'
'It would be difficult getting another job, wouldn't it?' I said, 'Especially one so well paid.' I could see that she realised that.
'Please, Sir,' she said, aware of her vulnerability, 'I'll do anything.'
I suddenly had this feeling of power. I did not know if she really meant anything, but I felt a stiffening in my trousers, because I could not help but think that she might.
'Anything, Jean?'
'Anything, Sir. I need this job badly.'
'Have you ever sucked a man's cock, Jean?'
She looked at me with an initial expression of shock, then surprise and then confusion and puzzlement.
'I beg your pardon, Sir?'
She was pretending she hadn't heard, hadn't understood. I had a chance to back down and say something else for her to believe I had said instead. I knew she had heard, but she did not want to believe what I had actually said or think about what was implied; what would happen next.
I felt nasty and wicked and ever so horny. I knew she didn't want it or, even if she did, could never admit to such a disgusting thing. But there, standing in front of her, I could feel my prick, harder than it had been for a long time, pressing up against the fabric of my boxers, tenting my trousers. Somehow I couldn't really stop myself now.