Zoe was on countdown to home time and the weekend when Max's direct line, diverted to her extension, rang. It was 7.30 and the rest of the building was quiet but Max had an important client meeting at 8.30 and had asked her to stick around for a little longer. Max was her stepfather as well as her boss and had pulled strings to secure for her the PA post so essential to pay off the mountainous debt she had accumulated through three years of riotous university life. Sometimes, Zoe thought he took advantage.
She answered the call, listened and selected Max's extension on her computer screen. "Veronica from the Carissima Agency," she announced and replaced the receiver to connect the caller. She continued typing for some minutes as the volume of Max's voice in the next office increased until he was almost shouting. The flashing light on her telephone was extinguished, telling her that the call was over, and a few more moments passed. Then, Max's office door flew open and he was in the ante room, standing over her desk.
She looked up expectantly, but her burly stepfather didn't meet her eyes. His face was pale but for two scarlet circles high on his cheeks. He cleared his throat a few times while she waited.
"Zoe," he said at last. "I need you to stay for the client meeting tonight, to - uh - fill in."
She frowned in irritation. "What if I have plans?"
A flash of the exasperation she remembered from her teenage years crossed Max's handsome face. "Do you?"
"Game of Thrones is on," she replied, lamely.
"This is important, Zoe," Max said. "The client I'm meeting with tonight? Their contract could make or break the company. Everything needs to be perfect. And the call you just put through . . . the entertainment has been cancelled."
Zoe was puzzled. The Carissima Agency? What kind of "entertainment" was required at a business meeting? She remembered that the client was a Japanese company. Five men had confirmed they would attend. She stared at Max, appalled comprehension dawning. He still refused to meet her eye.
"The Carissima Agency is -"
"- an escort service, yes," Max finished for her. He waited, letting this sink in.
She said nothing; then, after a couple of false starts, stammered, "You want me to fill in for an [i]escort[/i]?"
"Actually," Max said, not helping his case, "they were going to send two."
In fury, Zoe jumped to her feet and flung back her arm to slap her stepfather's face. He caught her wrist and held it in a vicelike grip.
"Don't pretend the idea of fucking a group of men offends you, slut," he snarled. "I know all about your graduation party."
Zoe froze.
Her "graduation party" in the summer had been the culmination of three years of wild university living. In her final year, Zoe had been the only girl in the seven-bedroom student house. A drunken game of truth and dare with her housemates, two of whom were also ex-boyfriends of hers and with whom she'd once enjoyed a very hot threesome, had led to her confession that she had always fantasised about being gangbanged. On her final night at the house in Plymouth, the guys had arranged for her fantasy to come true. When she had returned home that evening, the lounge had been cleared of furniture but for a large mattress in the centre, and on this mattress Zoe had sucked and fucked all six of her housemates and several of their friends. It had, she thought, been the supreme experience of her life - one she would never forget. She had had countless orgasms as she was taken in every hole and every conceivable position. But it had ended with an unpleasant collision with reality when, having ducked her head to suck in deep breaths as a housemate eased his big cock into her little arsehole then lifted it again to accept another cock in her mouth, she had found herself gazing up through sex-fogged eyes at her stepbrother, Dylan: Max's son.
Dylan had been as shocked as Zoe to find his six-months-younger stepsister the focal point of such a party but neither had said a word at the time, Zoe closing her lips around Dylan's dick and sucking fiercely, Dylan - after a few moments' hesitation - putting his hand behind her head and thrusting into her hot mouth until he exploded and she gulped down his load. Any trace of reluctance on his part to take advantage of the situation had been short-lived: after a short interval to recover his energy he had moved around behind her to fuck her pussy too. She had sought him out afterwards and sworn him to secrecy, while he smirked into her imploring face. Clearly, he had been unable to keep his promise, ratting her out to his own father. Zoe wondered furiously who else he had told. She had been so good since leaving Plymouth and, unable to afford rent on her own place, moving back in with her mother and stepfather. Zoe knew her mother resented having her back there and would have jumped at the opportunity to throw her out at the slightest provocation.
Now, she glowered at Max.
"I'll obviously pay you," Max offered, looking narrowly at Zoe's face. "Double time."
Zoe snorted and opened her desk drawer to retrieve her handbag.
Max was desperate now.
"I'll tell your mother about the party," he said. Zoe's eyes widened in horror. "You know she won't have you in the house after that. She already regards you as a threat."
He had her. It was the truth. Zoe's mother didn't entirely trust her husband. If she knew about Zoe's own rampant sex drive and lack of morals or inhibitions she would kick her out and Zoe would have nowhere to go, no money and no job. Her mouth twisted.
She thought it over. Living at home, with the consequent lack of privacy, had seriously cramped her style. Since she had left university her sexual encounters had been pretty much limited to one night stands: none of them very exciting; none of them involving more than one man at a time. If she was entirely honest with herself, a repeat of the party was a far from unattractive prospect, even if it was with a bunch of strangers and choreographed by her lecherous stepfather.
Pretending more reluctance than she felt, Zoe shrugged. "Looks like you got me, you bastard."
