WARNING:
The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upset you, or you are offended by subjects of a sexual nature - do not read any further!
This story is for entertainment only. It contains adult oriented material. This is a work of fiction. The acts and characters contained within are figments of my imagination and have no basis in fact. I do not practice, advocate, condone or encourage acts portrayed here. The characters in the story are entirely fictional. You need to believe that all of the characters are over the age of eighteen.
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached.
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This tale starts immediately after "Vonna's Photo Shoot" where I had a twofer - both Vonna and her aunt, the infamous Saroya Zenellis. See just how small the world is?
It was Friday, the day before Harriett got home with her transplanted British assistant, who was also to be our new freeloading boarder. I owed Clara, the woman across the street, a meet-up with another one of her nieces, in return for the photography lessons her family friend Viktor and his daughter had provided. Oh yes, and Smith expected me for bowling.
Did I have the balls for all of these commitments? Let the story roll, and hopefully I won't end up in the gutter...
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I'd been taking my vacation days one at a time with no regrets and, uncharacteristically, no complaints from Harriett. Since she'd been traveling so much for work, a vacation for her was staying at home, putting her feet up and sucking down cherry-filled chocolates. Although, lately she's cut down on sweets, and may have even lost a few pounds. Well, good for her!
Vonna's photo shoot was such a single vacation day off, Thursday to be exact. Harriett and her new assistant were expected home late on Saturday, after my scheduled bowling outing with Smith and Jones. I had no extracurricular sexual activities planned during the day for Friday, so I went into work.
The other thing that made these days-at-a-time off possible was my demotion. I was handling small-scale tasks, but I wasn't in charge of any "big picture" stuff. So, with no management responsibilities, no coordinating the work of other employees, and no status reporting on my shoulders, I could schedule myself for a day off whenever I liked. No one had taken up my position or moved into my old office, although the reporting and such that I'd left behind seemed to be happening, behind the scenes. And without a manager in place, my former boss Dick Tashun didn't seem to care when I showed up.
I got an assortment of greetings - head nods, waves, verbal "hello's and an occasional wink - from co-workers and members of the shrinking secretarial pool. The repurposed swivel chair in my cubicle had seen better days and evidently overweight employees, the way it tilted to the right as I spun to my desk. My physical in-box was cluttered with pass-around copies of tech magazines whose content might as well have been a decade old. By the time the mags were produced and distributed, their content had reached the Internet, been consumed, evaluated, repudiated and forgotten. To save everyone else the trouble, I shucked all of those glossy covered rags into my wastebasket.
It was a shock and awe moment when Clyde Hunter's secretary came down the aisle. Clyde was Dick Tashun's boss, a senior vice president and a member of the executive corridor upstairs. I'd forgotten her name, but who could forget that body? I'd been with some beautiful women - models even - but she was something special. The only woman I'd seen recently that came anywhere close was the mystery woman I'd seen in the hallway outside at Underwuud Studios who'd been too friendly with Angie, the owner's daughter and photographer. [AUTHOR: See story THROUGH THE LENS CH. 1]
There were always rumors about secret relationships in the office. Tashun dipping his wick in the secretarial pool, for one. Hell, I was the subject of my share. And Tashun had used the rumor he started - that Dora Muniz's baby was mine - to get me demoted, based on his interpretation of the Personnel Policy. Tashun's wife Agatha had promised to help me get my position back, after we shared a prone position on their bed. And, unbeknownst to her, I had their daughter Inez Victoria (Invey) the same morning, and in their bed no less.
Hunter's secretary stopped at my desk, her crisp white blouse straining under the pressure of two very pointed breasts. There was no cleavage showing, but my palms sweated nonetheless. "Mr. Marcus. It's very difficult to get hold of you."
Vonna didn't seem to have any trouble the previous day while I shot naughty photos of her in various states of undress. Her hands groped my cock frequently, before and during our sexual escapade. "I take a day off now and then, to keep myself sane."
"And you don't carry a cell phone either." She leaned over, hands on my desk, and pursed her lips, as if she was preparing to blow me a kiss.
"No one needs to get in touch immediately. That's what voicemail and answering machines are for."
"Mr. Hunter needed to speak with you, to arrange a meeting. But you're here - today - so I can escort you." She straightened up, shoulders back, tits at attention like torpedoes. "If you're not doing anything more important."
More important than getting my old job back? Why else would Hunter want to see me? Had Tashun's wife come through after all? "Lead the way."
We walked the corridor two abreast, although her two breasts were the distraction of every male and some of the females who passed us going the other way.
A elevator was available for our short ride up to the executive suite and Hunter's office. I thought small talk was in order. "So, how is it, working for Mr. Hunter?"
She stood facing forward, her profile astonishing from her neck to her waist. It was a miracle she didn't poke someone's eye out. "He's extremely dedicated to the success of his employees. Did you know that he takes one individual under his wing each year, for special treatment." She smiled. It didn't need to be spoken. She was his 'special employee of the year.'
Under his wing? Into his bed, more likely. "And what happens after the year is over?"
"Well, most of his assistants go back to school, either for their bachelors or advanced degrees. In my case, I've taken a series of night classes and Mr. Hunter coached my personal development. I've applied for law school. Mr. Hunter says he's creating the next generation of employees for the company."
Either 'night classes' and "personal development' were sexual euphemisms, or good old Hunter was a died in the wool good guy, helping his direct reports succeed in life and in business. Wow! My respect for the old guy went up 1000%.
We got out on our floor. I followed her to the left. We passed a few scattered private secretarial cubicles. In an otherwise vacant stretch of dark wood walls, she pulled a door open, grabbed my tie and pulled me after her. What the heck? We were in some kind of supplies room, with shelves of paper, binders, all of that officey stuff. Her eyes darted from side to side, as if she expected we were under surveillance. Quite possible, since paperclip theft is the number one cause of missed earnings at our firm. "I want to give you a heads-up, before you go in."
Too bad it wasn't giving me head, although the room was too narrow for her to kneel down. The width of the room put us very close together. Had we been naked, my cock would have been toying with her pubic mound. As it was, if we both inhaled, our chests would touch. "Mr. Tashun has been in Mr. Hunter's office for almost an hour. Your name keeps coming up."
