Far from getting better, things were getting worse. Thursday morning had come at last, and with it, my thirst for another chance to consummate my affair with Cindy piqued again. This week, I would not be interrupted in the middle of getting it on with my young sister-in-law. This week, I would not be afraid to park in my old parking spot and fuck the ever-loving shit out of Cindy, no matter how many people were present.
This week, however, I would not even see Cindy.
I received the bad news around 2:00 P.M., just as I was beginning to muster another hard-on in anticipation for that night. I sat at my desk, pretending to do work, but just daydreaming about laying Cindy down beneath me and plugging away at her tight, wet pussy.
My boss, Desiree Morales, came into my office and interrupted my fantasy.
"Aaron, you got a minute?" she asked, closing the door behind her. That always meant bad news, because she did not mind praising her employees with the door open, but her ream-out sessions were strictly held in private.
Desiree was a tall, skinny woman. She was a workout warrior and participated in several marathons. Other than running, however, I never heard of her having any kind of life outside of work. I often found that to be a shame. Her dark complexion and dark brown eyes along with her astounding intellect and success made her seem like the ultimate match to some rich playboy. Alas, she seemed married to her work, and demanded nearly the same from those she supervised.
Indeed, I received a pretty big ass chewing. The worst part of it was that I deserved it and knew it. It seemed my output had been sorely lagging behind expectations the last few weeks. Desiree wanted to know why.
Since lusting after my barely-legal sister-in-law did not seem like an acceptable answer, I simply explained that issues at home had distracted me. It was technically true, and the best part was that it seemed to do the trick. Desiree's tone softened.
"I understand that things can get complicated when you try to juggle too many things at once," she said, sitting down across from my desk. "But we are a team, and as such, we rely on all of our teammates to perform. I know this might not be easy for you to swing, but I need you to stay late tonight and catch up on some of this work."
My mind raced, trying to find an excuse that would exempt me from being shut out of Cindy's pants for yet another week. Unfortunately, it did not seem like anything was going to work.
"Aaron," she said sternly, as if she knew I was going to try to weasel my way out of it. "It is...critical...that you get the Patterson proposal done by tomorrow morning."
She did not need to spell it out for me any plainer. The Patterson proposal had been due the previous Monday, and I did not foresee myself finishing until this weekend. Now, I would be stuck at work until the wee hours of the morning. If I failed to do so, I would be searching for a new job.
I nodded tacitly.
"Good," Desiree said with a curt smile. She got up and left my office.
I called Sara and let her know. Whilst disappointed, she wanted me to do whatever I needed to do to catch up with work. Sara has always put a high priority on her career, so the chances that I would end up in the doghouse for this were small.
I deliberated on whether or not to call Cindy. Certainly, she would be disappointed, but in the end, I decided not to call. I would have to wait yet another week.
I immersed myself in my work, and the next five hours passed without my knowing it. When I finally took my eyes away from the computer screen, I realized that it was after seven, and that the office was dark and empty.
My eyes were sore and blood-shot from staring at the monitor, and I was beginning to feel a migraine coming on. I needed some coffee.
I saved my work and stood up to go to the office kitchen.
"Done for the night?" a voice asked.
I jumped a little, for I thought I had been alone. I looked up to see Desiree standing in the doorway.
"No," I stammered. "I was just going to get some coffee."
She walked into my office, grinning the way a lioness must grin when it sees an injured gazelle lying helpless in the plains. She approached me confidently and put her hand on my shoulder.
"Are you okay, Aaron?" she asked softly. "You seem out of sorts."
I shook my head. "Nah, I am fine," I replied. "I'm just a little stressed."
She nodded slowly. "Stress can be a killer," she said. "Take my job, for instance. I have some very hard decisions to make in the next week."
I did not quite know what to say. This woman had just ripped into me mere hours ago for not fulfilling the expectations of the company, and now here she was, distracting me with small talk. "I received word from our corporate office in L.A. that our region is being scaled back, and I will have to trim down my team by two people," she said. With heels on, she stood a little taller than me, and she was just two feet away now. She looked down on me with a condescending smirk, and I found my anger rising to the surface.
After I just gave up what could have been the best night of my life to work on this bullshit proposal, she was going to fire me?
"How do I decide whom to cut?" she asked. She stepped past me and sat down in my chair. She crossed her legs and looked up at me. "I mean, we are a team here, and I think that..."
"If I am fired, just say so," I muttered bitterly. I could not even bring myself to look at her.
"Aaron, I have not made a decision yet," she replied plaintively. "But the fact is that the last few weeks, your effort, your attitude, and your performance have all been sub par."
"I am one of the best account managers you have," I countered, mustering the courage to look down at her deeply probing eyes.
"Up until recently, I would have agreed with you," she agreed. "Now, however, I am afraid I am going to have to see a lot of extra effort on your part."
I nodded. "I will do whatever it takes, Desiree," I said slowly. I was beginning to sweat, and I could sense the sadist pleasure she was getting from watching me twitch. "I will work extra hours. I will take on extra accounts. I will work harder. I will..."
"It is not so much that I need you to work harder, Aaron," she interrupted. "I need you to work smarter. I need you to branch out into other duties, to help me make this office run smoother."
I nodded. "Sure," I said. "Whatever I need to do."
"I need help, Aaron," she said, tilting her head to the side. Her dark brown hair was cut to her shoulders, and it swayed back and forth as she looked me in the eye. "You are not the only one with stress. I have plenty of it. And that is where you come in."
My brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"
"Valerie said you give a good massage," Desiree said. "Why don't you come give me one?"
Valerie was a young intern that I trained the previous summer. While I never did anything about it, I had often given her massages for the same reason I had given so many to Cindy. I knew that giving this massage was the only way I could keep my job. Desiree has the perfect excuse for canning me, and if I did not play along with whatever game she was playing, I would find myself unemployed. I could not risk that.
I stepped behind Desiree and put my hands on her shoulders. As I began to rub them, Desiree moaned softly. I rubbed them for a god fifteen minutes.
"That's good, Aaron," she whispered silkily. I thought that I was done, and I was about to pull my hands away, but she had other plans. "Now go lower. My lumber is killing me."
I pushed my hands down to her lower back and kept on massaging. Her toned muscles were indeed tight, and I kneaded the knots the best I could.
"Now the front of my shoulders," she said. She opened her blouse to reveal a black satin bra. I paused as I looked at her breasts, which I had never noticed were large for a thin woman of her size.
She looked at me sternly. "What? You've never seen a pair of tits before? No wonder you are having problems at home. I have been doing butterfly curls at the gym. Rub my pecs."
I did as I was told, feeling her breasts press together each time I kneaded into her tight pectorals. My cock was stirring in my pants, and I realized that Desiree was about six years older than I, and the thought of fucking an older woman had never seemed more appealing.
"You ARE good, Aaron," Desiree murmured. "I think you may be too valuable of a team member to let go. Do you want to prove it to me?"
I swallowed hard, my dick now standing at full attention. "Yeah, I want to prove it."
"My feet are awfully sore from these damned heels," she whined, looking up at me with sad eyes. "Will you be a dear and rub those for me, too?"
It was not exactly what I had in mind, but I relented. She was calling the shots. My only option was to do what she said. It was degrading and beneath me, but I really had no choice. I could not go back to Sara and tell her I had lost my job.
I knelt before her and picked up her right foot. I slowly slipped the high-heeled shoe off and began rubbing the arch of her foot with firm, determined strokes. I looked up at her, and she had closed her eyes, smiling in pleasure.
She let me rub that foot for a good ten minutes, and my hands were beginning to get sore.
Then she lifted the other foot and motioned for me to repeat the process with that one. I did so with as much sensuality as I could. She kept me rubbing this foot even longer, until my hands were positively cramping.
"Do you remember two weeks ago, when you used the company credit card to buy lunch for you and your wife?" she asked, not bothering to open her eyes.
"That was an oversight," I explained quickly, rubbing her foot more intently. "I accidentally used the wrong credit card, and I've already reported it to accounting. They will be taking it out of my next paycheck."
"Is this mistake something you want me to consider when making my decision about your future with this company?" she asked.
