The next day was Wednesday. Once again I sat in the office, reviewing the previous night's proceedings. We had made out passionately, then ripped each other's upper clothing off, then Daniel had worshiped my boobs (he loves my breasts).
I had been surprised at first, since he had seemed a little reticent to begin, which I didn't think he would be after the frenetic pace of the night before; but, about ten minutes in, I realized that he was expecting me to take the lead like I had done before.
Actually, that wasn't my usual style -- I prefer to be submissive, yet I guess my ferocious desire and mad-woman act of the first night had made him think I wasn't. I have a high sex drive and like to express it, so I like being submissive, bent over and pounded. That makes perfect sense to a woman, but to a guy it sounds counter-intuitive.
Anyway, we had eventually removed the bottom pieces of clothing. I had told him to ravage my breasts and lick and suck my pussy, words that had inflamed him no end, and he had been an enthusiastic lover. Usually, I can't stand teaching guys what to do in bed, but his face was so handsome and body so hot, I was prepared to make an exception.
Also, I noticed that he didn't use his fingers much and was a little apprehensive, unsure of whether something would hurt me. I hazarded a guess that he hadn't had a huge amount of sexual experience yet. From the way he behaves, he's probably only had sex with a couple of women before, perhaps a few fumbles in his teen years in the back of a car, etc. I had felt the need to encourage him to be more aggressive with me, so had given orders via dirty talk to make him feel more confident.
He had responded with some yummy nipple-sucking and energetic cunnilingus. We had ended up in the yab-yum position, my sitting on his lap as his huge, straining cock had entered me. Man, my pussy could use some of that. Pussies need cocks, you know? They keep things juicy down there. Use it or lose it -- know what I mean?
The buzzer on my desk sounded, interrupting my thoughts. I pressed a button. "Yes, Mary, what?"
Mary's voice came through. "It's nearly ten o'clock, Cathy -- the girls are waiting in the boardroom for your meeting."
"Oh, great. Thanks!" I stood up, smoothed my skirt and I was on my way.
When I arrived, Bonnie, Amelia and Krystal were chatting. They were sitting down in the chairs around the table. I took the big chair at the head of it.
"Hi, everyone," I began. After preliminaries, I got down to business. "All right, listen up. So I've just called you ladies in here to run an idea by you to see what you think. If you like it, we can roll it out to all the other models. It's this -- I'm thinking of changing the business model to be able to give you more power to run your careers, so that you can basically live your lives the way I do, instead of waiting on call for a weekly timetable or sitting by the phone all day."
"Ahem," interrupted Krystal. "Cathy, no one sits by the phone any more. We've all got cellphones now," she smiled, waving her cellphone.
I smiled. "OK, point taken. You know what I mean, though -- I don't want you hanging around waiting for work. So the plan is this -- this is currently a private company, but I'm thinking of setting up a cooperative."
"What?" said Amelia.
"It means we all run the business and it belongs to all of us, not just me."
"Like shareholders?" asked Bonnie.
"Yeah, kind of -- but we all get to decide which direction the company moves in, not just pick up an annual dividend. Basically, we use the company as a resource where we keep all the equipment we need to run our modeling careers -- photography equipment, lists of contacts, make-up supplies, whatever. Each one of us runs her own career, with her own website and social media accounts, while the company continues to feature all of you as it did before."
