REPOST: PARKER11.TXT -- M/F, NC -- 1/4
CAREER OPPORTUNITIES
by Parker
an210088@anon.penet.fi
WARNING: There's not a lot of sex in this one. Mostly just
the setup, really. Still, if you stick with it, there's
bound to be some of that sort of stuff in the future.
Copyright 1994 by me (Parker). Feel free to distribute
(unaltered) as you will, but be discrete.
=================================================================
"What a bimbo!"
The small circle of people suddenly fell silent as everyone looked away,
embarrassed. The speaker, Barbara Dahlton, smirked knowingly at this reaction.
Predictable. She brushed back her thick brown hair and pretended not to notice
when one of her co- workers made a tentative effort to change the topic. It was
typical, really. People thought that just because she was a woman she was
supposed to be supportive of the other female employees as the company.
Fat chance.
The subject of conversation - and hence Barbara's unflattering attention -
had been the company's newest employee, Carol Louise Fawkner. At only
twenty-two, she was by far the youngest executive in the office, male or
female. This was an extremely impressive accomplishment, but not one which was
totally unexpected for someone who had done as well as she had in university:
top marks in her MBA at Harvard Business School as well as the two-time
recipient the state of California's 'Young Entrepreneur' award (personally
handed out by J Danforth Quayle!). Ben Keating, the senior VP in charge of
recruitment had gone on at some length about how lucky the company had been to
get her. Carol could have worked for some of the big boys in New York, but had
instead chosen a medium sized firm in LA.
Barbara, on the other hand, had attributed Carol's educational success
more to the girl's stunning good looks than any alleged intellectual capacity.
Barbara had lately wondered aloud - on more than one occasion - how many
professors the girl had fucked for her grades. There was no doubt about it:
Carol was an extraordinarily beautiful young woman. She stood only about 5'3",
but was perfectly proportioned: slender, with long legs, a narrow waist and
small, firm breasts. Her face was delicately formed, with high cheekbones and
large, green eyes that shone out beneath a tousle of curly blonde hair.
Unfortunately for her career ambitions, her appearance was that of a much
younger girl, making it very difficult for her to command the respect she
needed to do her job properly and effectively. When this was added to the fact
that she was by nature quite shy (blushing easily), it explained why she had
not been anywhere near as effective in the firm as Keating had originally hoped
and expected. As well, she was having the difficulties all new graduates had in
applying their academic knowledge to practical work situations.
Another, and by no means insignificant, difficulty Carol was experiencing
at work was directly attributable to Barbara. As the senior female executive in
the company, Barbara had felt threatened by this young 'star'. As well as
fearing the younger girl's ability, Barbara secretly resented her beauty. It
was not that Barbara was unattractive - she was well formed, with a slender
waist, large breasts and a handsome-if-not- conventionally-beautiful face
framed by thick, brown hair. In fact, Barbara would have been beautiful if she
had not spent her career disguising this particular attribute. She was not,
however, even remotely in the same league as Carol Louise Fawkner.
Very few women were.
Hence, she went out of her way to make things as difficult as possible for
the new employee. She did nothing too overt, of course, but instead worked
behind the scenes to undermine Carol's authority and make it more difficult for
the young girl to function. And her efforts had paid off. Normally, Barbara was
relatively circumspect about her feelings, taking great pains to ensure that no
one was aware of her actions. Tonight, however, at the office Christmas party,
Barbara was feeling pretty confident. She had it on good authority that Carol's
one year contract would not be renewed, and the girl would be let go at the
next review just over four months hence. She knew that she had done a good job
of making certain that no one at the office took the girl seriously, and no
longer cared who knew about it. In short, she was a little drunk, and wanted to
have some fun.
At the younger girl's expense.
Of course.
Carol, feeling uncomfortable and out of place as she always did at such
functions, nervously approached the group of people standing around the bar.
Gerry was there; so was Mark Prentiss and Brad Tymmens. And Barbara Dahlton.
Ordinarily, Carol would have been too shy to impose herself on the group, but
she felt a little more confident with Barbara there. Carol was shy, but she
wasn't stupid; she was well aware of her beauty and the effect it had on men.
On the whole, she would have preferred not to appear as she did, but there was
no helping that. All attempts to hide or disguise her beauty - severe
hairstyles, conservative, unattractive clothing; she had tried it all - were
wasted on her. Her appearance was one of the reasons she was so shy around her
co-workers. She knew she didn't look the part of a business person, and it was
this self-consciousness which weakened her and made her uncertain of herself.
It was different when Barbara was there, though. Besides the presence of
another woman in the group, Carol had always found Barbara to be personally
supportive and encouraging. The older woman - only mid-thirties, really - was
always willing to listen to Carol's ideas, even when Carol was too unsure of
herself to put them forward herself. Of all the people in the office, Barbara
was the one she felt the most comfortable with.
Of course, the fact that Brad Tymmens, with his dark hair and blue eyes
was there as well didn't hurt...
"Hi."
This tentative greeting was met with a round of absolute silence, as the
members of the group shifted uncomfortably. Brad looked down at his feet,
waiting for the inevitable. Carol seemed like a nice girl and he liked her a
lot, but it was undeniable that she wasn't working out at the office. He didn't
necessarily like Barbara all that much, but she did hold a position of power in
the company; given Carol's precarious position, it would be foolish to take her
side against anything Barbara might have to say.
And it seemed that Barbara had some things to say.
"Hello Carol," she chimed, mock friendly. "So glad you could join us."
"Thanks."
Brad choked back a cough. The poor girl sounded relieved.
Stupid.
"In fact," Barbara continued, "we were just talking about you. About your
handling of the Hessen-Gerber sale." That particular file had ended in disaster
due to Carol's inexperience and lack of confidence. What should have been a
profitable sales transaction with a German company had ended in threatened
litigation and, finally, termination of an interim agreement. Everyone knew
that it was Carol's fault.
Even Carol.
The poor girl flushed. It made her look years younger; and not, Brad
couldn't help but notice, all the more attractive. "W- what do you mean?" she
stammered. "I've talked to..."
"Well." Barbara was sneering openly now. "We were all just curious as to
how you managed to miss the completion date for the cost proposals."
"I..."
"I mean," Barbara interrupted, "it couldn't have been easy. We even
negotiated two extensions for you."
"Barbara. Why are..."
"The germans were most impressed."
Carol looked as though she were about to start crying at any moment. The
others in the group started down at their feet, up at the ceiling, across the
room... anywhere other than at the bloodletting that was occurring in front of
them. Brad felt terrible about it, but nonetheless suddenly found the ice cubes
in his drink extremely fascinating.
"At least we didn't get sued this time," Barbara went on relentlessly.
"Not like the Yakamoto Contract." Another disaster file which Carol had worked
on. "Or our supply contract with Point Hope. You've almost got a perfect
record, honey."
Carol just stared, well beyond the point of objecting or protesting. She
was well aware of the fact that her career with the company had gotten off to a
rough start, but she was working hard to improve. Up to now, she had thought
that Barbara had been one of her supporters...
"Well, don't worry about too much," Barbara told her. "Things aren't
working out where you are, but I'm sure we'll find something else for you soon.
Something more suitable." The brunette paused a moment, looking sideways at her
co-workers. Sharing the joke. "I understand there's some openings coming up in
the typing pool," she said. "They're always looking for one or two more blonde
bimbos to take dictation and do... 'other' jobs."
This was too much for Carol. Choking back a sob, she turned and moved
away, practically running in hasty retreat. Barbara sneered as her victim fled.
"Bimbo," she muttered.
Beside her, Brad gritted his teeth in anger and frustration. He wasn't
sure who he hated most: Barbara for her treatment of the younger employee, or
himself for not trying to stop it.
*****
"I can't believe what a bitch she was."
"I believe it."
The car moved slowly over the rain-soaked streets. Brad Tymmens stared
moodily out the window at the ink-black scenery as Rodney Parsons steered the
car. Rodney was also an employee of the company, in charge of the IT
department. They were on their way home from the office Christmas party.
"She treated that poor girl so badly," Brad continued, drumming his
fingers angrily on the dashboard. "I should have told her to shut the fuck up."
"And lost your job," Rodney commented.
Brad grunted in agreement. The strict new policies at work regarding any
sort of harassment of the female employees would no doubt have classified any
such outburst on the part of a male employee as sexual discrimination and would
have resulted in Brad losing his job. In fact, Barbara had already used such
tactics a couple of times to remove male co-workers who opposed her. Only a
woman would have gotten away with treating Carol the way she had been treated
at the party.
And, it seemed, a woman had done just that.
"Bullshit," Brad muttered.
"Hey," Rodney answered him, "I don't like it any more than you do. But
what can we do about it? That Barbara's a first class cunt, but she's going
places in the firm. Rumour has is she's up for sales VP in a few months. And
Carol... well, she's just not working out." He shook his head, ever practical.
"There's no point in losing your job over that."
Brad couldn't disagree. But... "I just wish that there was some way we
could pay her back without getting into trouble."
"What do you mean?"
"Some way to make her look like an idiot," Brad explained, chewing on his
lip in thought. "Some way to..." His face lit up. "Wait a minute."
"What?"
"Remember you were telling me about that drug your wife was taking for
pain."
Rodney nodded. His wife Tracy had been hit by a car a couple of months
ago, shattering her hip. It was healing, but there was still a lot of pain.
Rather than prescribe usual pain killers, the doctors had suggested that she
use a new drug. This drug, bi- trexicol, acted like morphine - deadening the
pain - but was not at all addictive. The side effect was that it seemed to slow
down the mental processes of the user, making the user appear rather slow and
stupid. Tracy hadn't like this effect, and preferred to use other pain killers.
There was a container with a number of bi-trexicol tablets sitting in the
medicine cabinet at home.
"So?"
"So... why don't we slip a couple to Barbara before the sales group
meeting tomorrow?"
"What!? Man, that's crazy. We could get in all kinds of shit."
"Only if we got caught." Brad was excited now. This was the perfect way to
get back at Barbara. "And it's not dangerous. All it'll do is make her a bit
confused at the meeting and she'll fuck up her report or something."
"Well..." Rodney reconsidered. He wouldn't do it himself, but if Brad were
willing to take the chance... Hell, it wouldn't hurt to see Barbara taken down
a peg or two.
It might even be fun!
"Alright," he decided. "I'm in."
It would be a simple matter to pack the drugs in his briefcase the next
morning before leaving for work.
*****
Barbara leaned wearily against the side of her desk and tried to clear her
head. It had been a disaster! She had never been so humiliated in her life.
What should have been a simple sales report - the kind of thing she had done
numerous times before - had turned into a confused jumble of mistakes,
misunderstandings and confusion on her part. She just couldn't understand it.
Everything had been prepared going in, but once she started her presentation
she had found herself unable to focus. Words, numbers, concepts... things she
knew backwards and forwards were all of a sudden a complete mystery to her. At
first it seemed to go pretty well, but after a while she began to stumble over
her facts. Robert Baxter, the present VP in charge of sales - AND THE MAN WHO
WOULD PICK HIS SUCCESSOR - had corrected her, at first gently and
unobtrusively, but then with increasing annoyance and frustration. At last,
openly angry, he had cancelled the presentation and ordered her to report to
his office later that afternoon.
She had almost been in tears. Even now, over two hours later, she was
unable to think of anything other than the impending encounter. Barbara checked
her watch: almost 4:00 - time for the meeting. She felt better now than she had
during the presentation - sharper, more focused. Confident of her ability to
deal with the problem. Still, a couple more sips of coffee wouldn't hurt. She
needed to be on her toes if she wanted to save her promotion. With one swallow,
she finished the lukewarm mug of coffee which had been sitting beside her on
the desk.
Time to go...
*****
Brad glanced up surreptitiously from where he was pretending to be hunting
for a file in one of the hall storage cabinets. From where he stood, he could
just see into Barbara's office through the partially open door.
She was drinking another cup of coffee!
Perfect. It had been the coffee in which he had elected to dissolve the
tablets. Barbara had her own coffee maker in her office so that she could drink
her own premium blend. (Typical!) Brad had slipped four tablets in during his
morning report to her in her office, and then another four while she was in the
big sales meeting, just in the hope of carrying the mischief a little farther.
So far things seemed to be working out perfectly. Neither he nor Rodney
had been present during Barbara's presentation - the one big drawback to his
plan - but from the look on the bitch's face afterward, things had apparently
worked out pretty much as planned. Barbara - looking like she was about to
throw up - had marched directly to her office and slammed shut the door. Over
the next few hours, word of her pathetic performance had peculated through the
office with the speed of juicy gossip. Barbara had only emerged from her office
a couple of times to deal with matters that couldn't be put off, but had
basically spent the afternoon by herself.
By now, of course, the entire firm knew of her impending confrontation
with Robert Baxter. The meeting was to take place in his office, which, in
Brad's opinion, was absolutely perfect. Better than they had any right to
expect, Rodney had agreed, before driving home to pick up his video camera.
The video camera.
The inside of Baxter's office could be viewed from behind a one-way mirror
in an adjoining storage closet. The entrance to the closet was in Baxter's
receptionist's office. She was often asked by Baxter to observe sensitive
meeting from the closet in order to be in a position to verify his version of
events should matters go awry and litigation ensue, a stratagem which had come
in handy more than once. The receptionist - Phyllis Morden - was an extremely
conscientious woman, who took her responsibilities very seriously. She would
never allow anyone into the locked storage closet without the knowledge and
permission of her boss.
Phyllis Morden also hated Barbara Dahlton with a passion.
This hatred was understandable. Barbara's contempt for the female support
staff had not endeared her to many, and Phyllis Morden - who was facing the
unpalatable prospect of choosing between losing her job or working for Barbara
after Baxter left - nurtured a special loathing her. To make matters worse,
Barbara had shown little restraint in making fun of Phyllis's weight problem
(the office "Roseanne", Barbara had called her).
The final straw was that Phyllis was gay, and had experience something of
a crush on Barbara when she had first started working at the Company.
In the end, it had been a simple matter to convince Phyllis that
witnessing Barbara being chewed out was more important than some minor rule
regarding access to closets. Besides, it was pointed out, Baxter only had
another few months to go before retirement; loyalty to a man in such a position
seemed a bit unnecessary, if not outright foolish.
And that was why, at precisely 4:00 that afternoon, Brad Tymmens, Rodney
Parsons with his video camera and Phyllis Morden were watching intently as
Barbara entered the office of Robert Baxter, VP in charge of sales.
*****
Barbara walked slowly through the door into Baxter's office. His bitch of
a secretary hadn't been at her desk, so she had been forced to announce herself
on the office intercom. The speaker's tinny reproduction of Baxter's
expressionless "come in" had somehow made the encounter all the more
frightening to her. By the time she pushed open the door, her hands were
shaking and her stomach was tied in knots. Worst of all, she had started
feeling the same dazed and confused feeling that had come over her in the
meeting.
Drawing a deep breath, she entered the office and closed the door behind
her. (No point in giving anyone the opportunity of listening in!) Time to get
this over with.
"There she is!"
"Shh..." Brad elbowed Rodney in the side, concerned that his loud friend
would give them away.
"Don't worry about it," Phyllis told him, her voice at a conversational
level. "Baxter had this room pretty much soundproofed. There are microphones
picking up what goes on inside the office, but nothing short of screaming will
be heard on the other side."
Relieved, Brad turned back to the window.
Robert Baxter sat upright behind his desk, looking solemn and forbidding.
News of his retirement had sent a flurry of speculation through the office,
with the eventual consensus being that he was being put aside as too
conservative for modern business practices. Too rigid; too hold fashioned. He
certainly looked the party. At fifty-seven, Robert Baxter had the appearance of
a man ten years his junior, with a stern, almost military posture, intense blue
eyes and deep tan. Only his thin, yellow-grey hair gave any indication of his
true age. Indeed, he would have been an attractive man, had it not been for a
large, purple birthmark that covered half his face and a set of blackened teeth
where gum disease and decay had taken their toll. Not only did this latter
feature give his smile a lopsided rotting appearance, but the resulting
halitosis - the younger employees called him 'dragon-breath' behind his back;
the more experienced ones just didn't talk about him - made any sort of close
up conversation with him a test of endurance. Rumour had it he left his teeth
that way to give him an edge in negotiations.
Whatever the truth of it was, he was out. In three months. As a concession
to his experience and position in the company, however, he had been given the
power to choose his successor. Barbara had been the heir-apparent.
Until now.
"Ms. Dahlton," he droned in his gravely, monotone voice after Barbara had
taken the seat in front of him, "I want you to know that I was very
disappointed in your performance in the meeting today."
Barbara stiffened.
"You were obviously unprepared for the presentation. You were an
embarrassment to me and to the company. A student - even Carol Fawkner - could
have done a better job."
Barbara felt her face go red. Sure, she had been a little slow, but...
"As you know, I will be leaving the company in a few months, and I have
until now taken the position that you were the best person to take over my
job." He looked her straight in the eye with his basilisk gaze. "Now," he
continued, "I'm beginning to have doubts."
"Sir... Mr Baxter..." Barbara struggled to find something to say in her
own defence, but the same murky, confused feeling that had sabotaged her
performance in the meeting earlier that day had once again enveloped her. Her
tongue felt thick and swollen, and her mind struggled in vain to grasp what was
going on.
"Now," he continued, looking pained and disappointed as she stammered
ineffectually, "I am going to take you over these figures you failed to explain
this morning, and we are going to make certain that you do know something about
your job." He leaned forward as he spoke the last few words. The smell of his
breath washed over Barbara like a fetid tide. "Is that understood?"
Barbara, trying desperately to breath only out of her mouth, could only
nod her head in agreement.
Phyllis chuckled nastily. This was better than she had expected. Worth
getting fired for. The fat redhead fully expected to lose her job in three
months time; either Barbara would fire her when she took over Baxter's
position, or she would quit, unable to work for such a bitch. This bit of
advance payback was going down very well.
Try as she might, Barbara found herself unable to comprehend the facts and
figures on the paper in front of her. Damn it... she KNEW this stuff. Inside
and out. She'd known it for years. But, no matter how hard she tried, she found
herself completely incapable of discussing it with Baxter - the man whose
decision it was who would become the next VP in charge of sales. Baxter had
opened up the report and was taking her through it step by step, pointing out
each section and asking her to explain what it meant and how it related to the
overall sales figures and marketing strategy. And, each time, no matter how
simple it was, Barbara stumbled over her explanation, giving the impression
that she knew nothing about the report. It quickly became apparent to her that
not only was her future promotion going down the tube, but so was her present
job.
Upset by yet another failure to explain a figure, she looked over at her
boss. As he had done a number of times already, he had stopped talking and was
looking over at her. She looked back, but he wouldn't meet her gaze. 'Pity,'
she thought, 'he just feels sorry for...'
But that wasn't it.
His gaze had dropped down from her face to... to her chest.
Surreptitiously, Barbara glanced downward. There it was... as she had leaned
over the desk to look at the report, the top button of her blouse had come
undone, partially exposing the upper swell of her breasts.
Baxter was staring at her breasts!
Just as she reached this realization, Baxter tore his gaze away from her
and began talking again about the report. Barbara, however, had stopped
listening. He had been staring at her breasts! A tiny spark of an idea - faint
and tentative - flickered across her mind, quickly fanning itself into a full
blown thought. Baxter had been staring at her breasts! Maybe... just maybe she
could save her job and her promotion. Trying not to be obvious, Barbara brought
her hand up and slipped loose another button. After stretching her shoulders
slightly to expose as much breast as possible, she leaned forward to give him
the best possible view.
Maybe... just maybe she could come out of this with her job and promotion
intact.
"What's she doing?"
Rodney looked puzzled.
"I don't know," Brad answered excitedly, "but whatever you do, keep
filming!"
Rodney, whose view of the scene in Baxter's office was framed by the four
sides of the viewfinder on his video camera, nodded in silent agreement.
Baxter had stopped talking again.
It was working!
He was staring over at her chest again. Not knowing whether to laugh or
cry at her success, Barbara lightly placed her hand on top of his where he was
holding the report. Was it too much? Too soon? Barbara could only hope that she
was playing things correctly. She'd had little experience in this or any other
sort of seduction.
"Ms. Dahlton... Barbara..." For the first time, Baxter actually seemed a
little unsure of himself. A little uncomfortable.
"Yes?" Barbara smiled across the table at him, trying her best to look
sexy. She knew that she was attractive - or could be with a little effort - but
she had spent years playing down her physical appearance. She had learned early
on in her career that men didn't respect attractive women; at least, not in the
way she wanted to be respected. It was not easy now to try to overcome all that
effort, but she was willing to try in order to save her promotion.
And her job.
"Barbara," he stammered, "I... this report..."
"Maybe," she told him, fighting to enunciate clearly through the fog that
still enveloped her consciousness, "if you were to come around her and explain
it to me?" Her voice sounded low and unnatural to her; how she imagined a voice
might sound if it were sexy; inviting.
It seemed to do the trick. Moving quickly, Baxter stood up and came around
to her side of the desk. He leaned over her chair and pulled the report across
the desk so that it was right in front of them.
His hands were trembling.
"Now," he continued, trying to remain businesslike, "the market
figures..."
Barbara tuned out his voice as she considered her position. Could she
really go through with this? With that breath? If she didn't, she could kiss
the promotion goodbye and probably her job as well. But if she did... well,
maybe it wouldn't be so bad. A few kisses... maybe even sleep with him once or
twice... He'd be gone in a few months, and, once she was safely in position as
VP, she could get rid of him easily enough.
Maybe...
"And when the numbers are applied to future..." The droning stopped when
she once again placed her hand on top of his.
"Barbara..."
Slowly, insistently, she pulled his hand off the report and guided it over
to her breasts. He didn't help, but allowed her to slip his hand down the top
of her blouse and over one of her breasts. She could feel the pulse in his
wrist speed up as he - at last on his own initiative - squeezed her breast. She
started to squirm away in discomfort, but quickly remembered what she was
doing; and what she was trying to do.
Breathing heavily, Barbara leaned back in her chair and moaned in
simulated passion as Baxter slipped his other gnarled hand down the top of her
blouse and began fondling both of her breasts.
"I don't believe this."
The three observers stared, open mouthed with wonder, as Barbara writhed
on the chair while Baxter popped open the front of her blouse, exposing her
large, firm breasts beneath the thick cover of the utilitarian bra. The
covering too was soon removed, as Baxter reached down behind Barbara and jerked
it open.
"Nice tits," Rodney commented, as Baxter's hungry hands cupped and kneaded
them. Phyllis nodded in agreement.
This activity went on for a few more moments before Baxter came around
beside the chair, leaned down and brought his mouth onto Barbara's face.
"My god," Phyllis muttered. She had spent years dealing with Baxter's
halitosis. "How can she..."
Barbara almost gagged with revulsion at his fetid breath, but nevertheless
opened her own mouth to welcome his tongue. More than that, she actively kissed
back, thrusting her tongue back at his, as he once again began to manipulate
her breasts. It didn't hurt, really, but it was very uncomfortable. And
humiliating. Nevertheless, job and promotion firmly in the front of her mind,
Barbara moaned and grunted on the chair, just as she imagined she would sound
if she were actually enjoying the activity.
This kissing and fondling went on for a while. Finally, it dawned on
Barbara that she was to make the next move. Baxter was waiting for her. Panting
with revulsion at the smell of his breath, she reached over with one shaking
hand and began undoing his pants. That was what he had been waiting for. He
dropped her breast - red and shiny from where he had been biting and licking -
and helped her undo his pants. Within seconds, his cock - thick and covered
with large purple veins - sprang free. Barbara immediately felt a kind of
horrid fascination with this ugly thing as he guided her hand onto it.
Tentatively, she grasped it as he wished and began running her hand along it,
up and down... up and down. Almost immediately, a glistening of pre-cum
appeared.
Barbara moaned, this time with real fear, as he pulled her off the chair
and down to her knees in front of him: eye to eye with his cock. She knew what
he wanted though, and she had already gone too far to back out now. Not if she
wanted her job. And besides, she thought, slipping her mouth over Baxter's cock
and sucking it in, his cock doesn't stink like his breath.
"Quite the little slut when her job's on the line," Phyllis commented,
looking hungrily as Barbara sucked and slurped hungrily at Baxter's cock. The
sounds were clearly audible through the microphones in the office.
"Oh no," Rodney laughed, still filming. "I'm sure it's love. Look at her
go!" Phyllis smirked at this sarcasm.
Brad remained silent, his cock swollen in his pants. He was thinking of
Carol; she should be here, seeing this...
Finally, Baxter reached his limit.
Roughly, he pulled Barbara's mouth off his cock, causing a long,
glistening trail of spit and pre-cum to trail from her lips to the tip of his
cock. He lifted her, and placed her down on the edge of his desk.
"Spread your legs," he mumbled, voice thick with lust.
"Oh... yes."
Barbara, frightened but determined to carry on to save her job, complied.
She quickly slipped off her panties, pulled up her gray, business-skirt and
leaned back across the desk, legs spread in obvious invitation and tits hanging
free.
"Fuck me," she moaned.
Baxter needed no further encouragement. He leaned forward between her legs
and drove his cock into her exposed pussy, burying it to the hilt with one
powerful thrust. Barbara squealed with pain as the cock was driven into her
still-dry pussy, but immediately turned it into a grunt of passion.
The job!
"Oh yes... yes... yes..." She moaned and bucked beneath her boss as he
brutally fucked her on his desk, doing her best to give the impression of a
woman overcome by lust as he sawed his cock in and out of her pussy. This,
despite the fact that every thrust sent waves of pain through her raw pussy.
Fortunately, Baxter didn't last long. Within thirty seconds, he stiffened
and grunted. Barbara, thankful that he was coming so quickly, wrapped her legs
around behind him and began squealing loudly, as if she too were coming. The
two of this held this position - him grunting and her squealing - for a good
ten seconds before he suddenly relaxed, releasing his weight on top of her,
passion spent.
Barbara too allowed herself to relax. It was over.
And maybe... just maybe, she told herself as she felt the first trickle of
sperm dribble out of her pussy and down her ass crack, I've saved my job.
END PART ONE
=================================================================
As usual, all comments are appreciated.
