Another Day at the Office

I am and have always been . . . well . . . a dirt bag. Not really evil in a cold and calculated way, but someone who seizes just about any self-serving opportunity that comes my way. I don't really look for them, but if they find me? Let's just put it this way: if I'm the guy that picks up the wallet you drop, you're fucked.

So when my company "asked" me to oversee their latest downsizing, it was not really a big deal. I deliver the bad news to a couple of dozen folks, and in exchange, I get thrown a few extra weeks' pay as part of my separation package. Yep. I was on the list as well.

The day had gone about as I had expected. I got a few "fuck yous," lots of tears and self-pity, and even a few "thank yous" from those who hated their jobs but didn't have the balls to quit. As soon as five o'clock hit, the office cleared of those remaining in two or three minutes. I guess they wanted to get out before I got to them. The whole floor was a ghost town except for me, and Jill, my assistant. For some reason, she was still there just sitting at her desk and peeking into my office every couple of minutes to see what I was up to.

My plans were simply to tell her that she had been reassigned to another division and tell her that I would be leaving the company effective immediately. I had no idea how fortunate the upcoming misunderstanding was about to make me.

"Jill? Can you come into my office, please."

Normally she was quick to please. Whether I wanted a cup of coffee or needed copies or whatever. She was there in an instant. But, this time she rose slowly from desk chair - with a slight pause before turning as if to brace herself. Slowly she moped into the office before taking a seat - unoffered - in the same chair that most all of the others had sat in earlier in the day. She didn't even look up. She just sat there staring at her hands as they fidgeted with her dress.

Being the insensitive bastard that I am, until that very moment it had not occurred to me what she had witnessed all day. She had seen every face as they had left my office. She had even called some of them to my office for me. She knew exactly what was going on - at least she thought she did.

Before I could begin to formulate the words to clarify the situation, she broke down.

"I CAN"T lose this job, Mr. Buerman. I can't. I am about to lose . . ."

Between the sobs and the whimpers, I couldn't make it all out, but there was something about an apartment, her ex boyfriend and his gambling - bla, bla, bla - and an oddly placed excerpt concerning her mother and how she had warned her about him. And she couldn't just go home, and . . .

I didn't stay engaged in her banter for very long. My mind had wondered to a very large glass of Johnnie Walker Black and a lap dance, but her closing remarks brought me back around.

"Can you help me, Mr. Buerman? I'll do anything."

Frankly I had wondered for a while why she hadn't left long ago. I didn't pay her shit, and she was constantly sexually harassed by mostly me but also the other senior managers. We'd share any and every nasty joke or story of trysts with the various office skanks and never even bother to whisper when she was within hearing distance. I'd called her every demeaning pet name you might imagine, and on the rare occasions that she would wear anything with a low neckline, I was going to be sure to hover over her desk at least a half dozen times those days with various questions and requests. I did mention I was a dirt bag, right? But now, it kind of made sense. She was desperate.

Over the years, I have leveraged my "opportunities" into a variety of things. I've used them to close deals, get promotions, you name it. But, there's nothing quite like using them to get pussy. So, when one of these falls in my lap, I NEVER pass on playing it out.

"Unfortunately Jill, your position has been eliminated. It's already done. One assistant is transferring to operations. They have asked me for a recommendation, and I have a preferred candidate."

All of that was true. The only omission was that the candidate was actually Jill. It only took about 30 seconds to convince the director over there. I'd known him for years, so when he called asking who to take to fill a vacancy for his personal assistant. I told him about her loyalty, work ethic, attention to detail, etc. He asked, "is she the red head with the big tits?" As soon as I said "yes," he said "I'll take her."

"Preferred candidate? Mr. Buerman I have worked really hard for you. If there's something I've done wrong, I am sorry . I can do more, sir. Please . . . '

Grabbing a box of tissues, I stood and walked around the desk to where she was sitting. I handed her the tissues, and as she looked up I extended my hand to her as any gentleman would to assist a lady from her chair.

"Let's see if we can work through this," I said as I led her over to the couch on the other side of my office. As we walked over, it gave me the chance to scan the floor and confirm we were alone. After seating her, I walked back over, took one last look out and closed the door.

It wasn't unusual at all for me to sit with colleagues and staff on the couch. I often used it when I wanted to take the edge off of tough discussions or have a more relational conversation. So I don't think she was shocked at all when I sat next to her.

Trying to fuck Jill was pretty safe, I figured. Technically, I wasn't going to force her into anything, and even if she told the company, I didn't give a shit. I was done. And, based on all the crap she had put up with from me, I doubted she'd do more than just get up and walk out if she wasn't interested in the deal.

"Jill. You have worked really hard for me, and I appreciate it. There is no question you bring a lot to the table. But, there are others who offer a lot as well. Some offer things that you don't . . . or at least haven't shown that you do."

"Like what, Mr. Buerman? I can do anything that any of the other girls can do." She perked up a bit with her comments. It was almost as if she was a little pissed off to think someone could do more than her.

"Jill, there are many intangibles to success in the business world. It's not only about your work but about relationships. I have a VERY good relationship with some of the other assistants."

If she didn't already know what I was insinuating, she was going to figure it out any second. So, it was time to take the plunge . . . so to speak. Turning towards her, I asked "are you interested in improving our relationship?" At the same time, my hand slid under her dress hem and up her thigh.

I made it within 6"-8" or so of my destination before her legs clamped down on my hand like a steel vise. She didn't try to remove it, nor did she scream or try to get up and run. She just froze. I didn't pull away or continue to advance. I just held it there.

Moving my lips just inches from her ear, I asked again.

"So Jill? Are you interested?"

"Wa . . . wi . . . will I get the recommendation?"

"Absolutely, " I said.

"Do you promise?"

"Jill, have I ever lied to you?"

Obviously, she didn't really process my reply, because the answer to that question was unequivocally "YES!" Several times, in fact. But, feeling her thighs release their death grip on my hand, I guess it didn't matter much to her one way or the other.

The first couple of minutes, she was pretty tentative. I didn't get the sense that she was all that reluctant but more just unsure of herself. Still, I had managed get her cotton sun dress up around her waist and was giving her legs and ass enough gentle petting to at least speed up her breathing. But, I was far more interested in getting a shot at those tits I had stared at five days a week for the last few years.

So, without bothering for permission, I just lifted the dress up, pulled it over her head and tossed it to the floor. Jill had never really revealed much of her body. She almost always wore loose-fitting dresses or suits. So, I was delighted to see what she had to offer. She actually looked really good. Perhaps a little more exercise and some sunshine would have enhanced her looks, but she had an excellent shape - the classic hourglass curves. And man, her tits were REALLY big.

The bra she was wearing was plain. It was obvious that it was far less form and far more function. I guess the task it was appointed to do demanded its significant structure. But even so, it was quite sexy. She looked like something from generations past. Her figure and undergarments made her perfectly suited for a WWII G.I.'s barracks or a '50s biker film.

"Take it off." I was ready to see more.

She moved slowly. No so much to tease. It was more likely her nerves. Plus, it is was somewhat of an undertaking to get that damn thing off. I guess I could have just done it myself, but her compliance was absolutely part of the thrill. After slipping the straps over her shoulders, she began to work the rear clasp around front, but she was still able to guard my view with her forearms - at least in part. Nothing was going to fully hide those things. She unhooked the bra and let it fall from her, but she still wouldn't let my eyes have full access.

Finally, she submitted allowed her arms to drop to her side. They were amazing. They were probably the biggest natural boobs I had ever had the pleasure of enjoying. And remarkably, they stood up fairly well considering their size. I suppose that was the benefit of youth. Jill was only 26 years old.

I dove into them like a man having found water after a walk in the desert, and they were able to nearly engulf me. I had a handful in each hand and my face completely encased in tit flesh. It was glorious. I kissed and caressed for several minutes before I had my fill. Her nipples seemed the size of gum drops as I held them in my mouth. By the time I was done, Jill was pretty worked up. Her breathing was growing more rapid and louder and her face was a flushed a bright, rosy red.

She was so worked up that she never noticed me unfastening my slacks and lowering them. When I looked up, her eyes were tightly closed as I enjoyed her body. I stopped and stood up, and I was already on my feet before she opened her eyes to see my rigid staff only a foot or so from her face.

"Suck my cock, Jill"

If there was one thing about Jill that always kept her in my good favor was her ability to take direction. Immediately, she scooted to the edge of the couch and took my cock in her hand. She gave it a few strokes as if to measure up the task and then slowly began to stuff it into her mouth.

As she worked her mouth up and down my shaft, I could feel her tongue dancing along the lower side, and as she would reach top of her stroke, she would occasionally slow to tickle area just below the cock head with the tip of her tongue. I don't know who taught her - maybe she was just a natural - but this gal really knew how to give head. My experience is that it is a common skill among the insecure.

As she become more and more relaxed, she worked my dick deeper and deeper into her mouth, and within 7-8 minutes or so, she was able to swallow almost all of it down her throat. Placing my hands on her head, I first began to simply gently massage her, but after a couple of minutes I was matching her bobbing action and using just a subtle amount of force to get my cock the slightest bit deeper in her throat than she was willing to take on her own. With each attempt, I applied just slightly more pressure and held her head down for just a second longer.

After several more minutes, this action had all but completely tamed her gag reflex. With each stroke, I would bury my cock deep into her throat, and what started as a sensual blowjob had turned into a fairly rough throat fuck. Jill's eyes were watering and there was saliva and drool everywhere, but she wasn't complaining. In fact, she had been rubbing her clit and moaning throughout most of the onslaught.

I knew I was going to cum if I didn't change things up soon, so I released her head and let my cock pop from her mouth. Before I could even settle on my next course of action, Jill spoke up.

"Do you want to fuck me, Mr. Buerman?" she asked as her thumbs looped the waist of her panties and pulled them down her thighs. Pulling her knees up, she slipped them off her feet and dropped them to the floor beside her. Then she just laid back on the couch and spread her milky thighs in a centuries old gesture of invitation - an invitation that I was glad to accept.

It wasn't so much that I was interested in returning the favor. It was more the fact that her mouth has drawn me remarkably close to cumming, and I knew that if I didn't give myself some recovery time, my one and only fuck of Miss Megajugs was going to come - or rather cum - to a conclusion far sooner than I wanted. In hindsight, I am glad I decided to taste her. She was wonderful.

It only took a couple of minutes of dragging my tongue across her swollen clit before her hands took my head and her hips began that familiar circulating rhythm. I could hear her breathing getting louder the whines and whimpers you so often hear as a woman begins to build her orgasm. I knew I wouldn't have to go much longer before she'd hit her peak. I tried distracting her by focusing on licking the juices from her gash. I even gave her asshole ample attention, but she would have none of it. It was either let her pull the hair out of my head or get back on that clit.

If anyone was going to hear us in my office, it was going to be now. As she began to cum, her panting and whimpers turned into very audible moans. She wasn't a screamer by any means, but anyone out on the office floor would have heard her. My face and tongue had become her sex toy as she ground my face into her crotch. Wave after wave of pleasure came over Jill - her vocal responses and gyrations in perfect synchronization as humped my face.

I allowed her to calm and release my head on her own before I came up for air. When I did, she had an almost embarrassed look on her face. "I'm sorry," she finally said. "I got a little out of control."

I didn't care. She tasted great, and she had given me enough time that I was going to get a nice long fuck out of her. I didn't even speak back to her. I just grabbed her leg and threw it onto my shoulder. Straddling one thigh and the other against my chest, I pushed my cock into her soaked cunt. There was no resistance at all. She was so wet and ready, she could have taken a horse cock at point. But at the same time, she was tight. Her walls felt velvety smooth against my shaft as I began to stroke in and out of her warm, wet opening.

As began to establish my rhythm, I found myself drifting into that state of sexual arousal where you literally become oblivious to your surroundings and other stimuli. It's as if every neuron in your body has dedicated itself to the purpose of transferring the pleasure of sex from your cock to your brain. All I cared about was fucking Jill and getting every bit of possible awesomeness out of it. I was panting like a dog and actually beginning to work up a pretty good sweat as a banged into her with all of my might.

I'd love to tell you that we were coupled for hours, or describe the many orgasms she experienced from my skills, but the truth is, I have no idea. I just kept on pounding and pounding with the single focus and sole purpose of my own pleasure. And, I was succeeding. I could feel my nut beginning to build, and I knew it was going to be a very, very good one. It was slower than normal, and before too long, it was already past the point where I often release. I just kept plunging and plunging, harder and harder, as I worked to reach climax. Opening my eyes for one last look, I saw Jill has covered her eyes with one forearm and was using the other to muffle her sound as I drove myself into her. Shock waves pulsed through her massive tits each time my hips made contact with her, causing them to rock back and forth on her body.

The first burst came on in an almost violent way - as a somewhat fitting end to my efforts. It was oddly painful bliss as I held my cock inside her with all of my strength. Once the dam burst, the pleasure took over, and my beautiful orgasm engulfed me. Wave after wave of cum pulsed from my dick. I couldn't scream, so what ended up coming out was some odd combination of grunt, sigh, squeal and moan - undefinable but distinctly manly. It was awesome.

As is typical for me, about 15-20 seconds after the pleasure subsided, I was dressing and trying to figure out my story for a quick escape.

Once dressed, I couldn't help but take one more look. She was still lying on the couch covering her face. Her spectacular body sprawled out seemingly ready to take another suitor should one have been available.

As I headed out the door, I dropped a last few words.

"Thanks Jill. Hey, I won't be in Monday. Stop by HR. They'll take care of you."

Johnnie Walker was calling.