Chapter 3

The next day, when Brad entered the office, he saw that Jennifer was already ensconced in her administrative wrap-around desk just outside his office, located at one end of Fab 2. She did not really have a dedicated separate anteroom as most secretaries had in other businesses. After all, this was an industrial area, and the building was pretty much a barebones place.

Thankfully, at this end of the building, Brad and Jennifer did not get much of the noise and hubbub generated by the production lines that were operating just through the swinging double doors that separated his and Jennifer’s office spaces, along with some open-shelving storage bins, from the rest of the building. The two of them did have their own HVAC outlets and controls; critical during Vermont winters.

“Did you find everything you need?” Brad asked Jennifer, right after greeting her and going into his office to set down his 7-11 coffee in the new style cup made mostly from recycled paper, along his briefcase. Jennifer had been about to get up to enter his office to answer, but saw the Brad had turned and was coming out to her desk.

“Nope,” Jennifer said simply. Then she smirked, held out her hand, and said, “Give me your wallet, please.”

Brad was momentarily taken aback, and said, “My ... my wallet ... what... ?”

“Boss,” Jennifer said with a grin, “I mean Brad. I need to see your company and personal credit cards, your Hilton Honors card, and any other frequent user cards that you use for travel or other business.”

As Brad nodded in acknowledgement and began to reach for his wallet, Jennifer went on. “After all, not only am I supposed to do your paperwork and keep your daily itinerary and appointments straight. I am also your travel agent.”

“Yeah,” Brad said with a sort of surprised tone, and then went on, “I guess. It’s just that I never had someone to do all this for me before.” Then he went on to say, “Well, except for when Jan makes plans for us to do something together.”

Brad looked off into space and said, “With you doing all of the business planning for me, I just know that I will not be having any surprises.” Now, he had his own smirk on his face. “Like the occasional surprises Jan throws my way every now and then.”

“Really?” said Jennifer with a raised eyebrow that hinted that Brad should tell her more.

Brad caught himself just in time to shut up about some of the sexy side trips he and Jan had found themselves on. Instead, he put on a fake stern look and said, “Back to the salt mine, Slave. Enough of this idle chit chat.”

When Jennifer broke out into a delightful tinkling laugh at his obvious antics, Brad said, “Anyway, my coffee is getting cold.” He could not help but think, ‘It is good to see some optimism in this beautiful woman’s face. Lord knows that she needs a good healthy dose of real joy in her life after all the struggles she has had to endure.’

As he turned to re-enter his office, Brad said, “The cards you need are all in the slots on the back inside fold. Just bring it in to me when you are through.” And then he attacked his coffee as he logged in at his workstation.

As she typed in the details from Brad’s cards to a reference file at her own workstation, Jennifer softly hummed a happy song to herself. Yes, she felt as if this was going to be a great job.

Over the next two weeks, Brad and Jennifer began to synchronize their activities in order to make things go smoother for the two of them. Brad discovered just how much more discretionary time he had daily to allow him to do both the hands-on management outside the office and the paperwork and decision-making required of him at his desk.

Brad marveled at just how critical it really was to have a good secretary. And, with Jennifer setting a new standard for his expectations almost daily, his memories of his impressions of Gregg Collins’ secretary, Tina, as the ideal secretary were fading into the mist.

Jennifer, meanwhile, had discovered not only how to perform the administrative support for her boss; she had also begun to feel the rhythm of the Division, so that she could begin to anticipate things, such as approaching deadlines; almost critically low inventory levels of major subsystems fabricated by the various other companies that served as subcontractors to J.A.M. for providing key elements for the large fabrication projects; birthdays for all the employees in the Division so that Brad could sign and distribute cards; and the scheduling of Brown-Bag Lunch meetings that Brad had with a different group of six-to-eight employees once each week to try to get to know them and solicit their feedback on how the work was going from the workers’ perspectives.

But Jennifer felt that the critical item she needed to oversee on Brad’s behalf was not letting him become a workaholic.

“Bra-a-ad,” Jennifer said, with that deliberate put-on whine that teenage girls often use. “It is getting close to fi-i-i-ive. You don’t want to keep your wife waiting for supper.” Then, in a normal tone, after she saw the balled-up wad of paper come flying out of his office doorway in her general direction, she chuckled to herself and continued.

“And I am sure,” Jennifer said, “that your presence at a reasonable hour earlier this evening will mean more time for significant activities to follow after supper for you two lovebirds.”

“Hey,” Brad said, with a grin as he walked out with his briefcase. “Just what has my bride been telling you about our evenings together anyway?”

Jennifer held a half grin as she said, “Why, nothing at all. But a woman just knows these types of things.”

Brad smiled and chuckled softly. “Yeah, I guess you all learn that early on. How old were you when your mother began teaching you all that stuff, by the way?”

“Hey!” Jennifer answered with a mock frown. “Trade secret of the Sisterhood.”

As they laughed, Jennifer said, “By the way, when do I get to meet Jan personally? I know that I, for one, am really looking forward to it.” She had only spoken to Brad’s wife a couple of times when she had answered his phone when he was away from his desk. From those brief interactions, Jennifer believed that Jan would be someone she could easily like.

“Yeah,” said Brad. “We really need to work something out and have you and the kids over to visit and have supper with us sometime soon. Let me know how the kids’ school and activities schedules, as well as your own personal schedule, might fit so that we can do that within the next couple of weeks. Okay?”

Jennifer said she would and she watched Brad leave through the building’s side door before turning to finish up some last-minute things. She would be heading out within about fifteen minutes herself. Then, fifteen minutes after that, she would see if Haley and Connor had gotten their homework finished and had begun to fix supper for all three of them.

“Oh, Matt,” moaned Midge Burton, as she approached her biggest climax of the afternoon, “Yes ... yes, give it to me hard ... ooh, yes.” Her repetitions of this type of phrase picked up progressively in volume, along with the intensity of the thrusts of her hips to meet those of the virile and handsome man pumping his cock into her pussy, as the ‘little death’ of her biggest orgasm of the day approached.

“Aaaaahhh,” Midge cried out across the empty space of the master bedroom as Matt’s cock stroked past her G-spot and his pubic bone rubbed her clit in just the right combination of sensations to send her over the top. Her lower legs flailed in her momentarily uncontrollable spasms of delight and joy as her third orgasm of this particular sexual union overtook her and threatened to cause her to pass out.

In a fog of ecstasy, Midge pulled her lover down tight against her body; the sweat they had both generated causing an erotic wetness between them.

“Whew,” huffed Matt Winstead as he caught his breath after a moment’s recovery from a very satisfying and physically demanding fuck from his boss’s wife. “Midge, I gotta tell you. That was simply fantastic ... No. YOU are simply fantastic. If sex with you is this good with me, it must be absolutely over the top with your husband, David, the man you love.”

“Hey,” Midge replied with a slight grin, releasing the grasp of her arms to allow Matt to rise sufficiently to let her gaze into his eyes. “You know that I love you too, Matt. But, as you said, I am IN love with my husband; and he is madly in love with me as well; so much so, that he lets me have my little diversions, just as I let him have his. Plus, he has all that young pussy available to him in The Program.”

“Yeah,” Matt replied, as he pulled his shrinking cock from her semen-filled pussy. “I know. Just like I know that a lot of folks who do not know you, and do not realize your unusually broad capacity for love, would not understand your and David’s ... uh ... arrangement, when it comes to sex.”

“Come on, Matt,” Midge said with a low chuckle. “After the past four years that you have driven for David and me, you know very well that the ... arrangement, as you call it ... was somewhat of a requirement for his job.”

Midge continued, “Until he was promoted to Senior Vice President out at the plant last year, that is.”

Midge shook her head slightly to herself as she remembered her time as the wife of a Junior VP; and all of the great times and wonderful sex that she had experienced while in ‘The Program.’ And now, she was simply relegated to the lofty status of an ‘alumna,’ of sorts, of that system. Even still, after having graduated from it just a year before, she realized that she actually missed it ... a lot!

Matt rolled over to lie beside the beautiful woman with whom he had just shared some of the best sex of his life. She was still very beautiful and, barely past forty, could compete in beauty and sexual energy with most women ten-to-twenty years her junior.

“Come on, yourself, Midge,” Matt answered her with a grin while he twirled his fingertip lightly around her still perky left nipple, “as hot as you are, and with your willingness to do all of...” he waved his hand in a general sweep... “this; you simply HAD to be predisposed to this type of lifestyle before the ... unusual, I guess ... requirements of his job.

“The same applies to Mr. Burton as well,” Matt continued. “You can’t tell me that the two of you weren’t already a bit... , “ here he paused.

“Kinky?” Midge prompted.

“I was going to say ‘free-spirited,’ but I can go with ‘kinky’,” Matt said, causing both of them to laugh softly. Hearing her sounds of simple joy made Matt realize that Midge was actually his friend, as well as his lover ... all the while still being, most importantly, his employer, of sorts.

“You got that right, my dear man,” Midge said as she snuggled her head under Matt’s nearside arm. “Remember when we had that conversation sometime after the first few months that you began driving for the senior executives? You’ve known since then that David and I have had a rather more open outlook when it comes to sex ever since we were first dating in college; and that attitude continued on through our engagement and into our marriage as well.”

Midge rose up to look Matt eye to eye as she said, “But don’t ever get the idea that we have any less love or respect for each other as a married couple; just because we have a more relaxed view of the exclusivity that most marriages demand.”

Matt nodded slightly and smiled at his boss’s wife and his lover of the moment with his most sincere expression. “I know this, Midge. I would never disrespect David by attempting to cuckold him with his wife; you know, trying to replace him, or anything like that. If you and David had not brought me into a more intimate agreement with you two than simply being your driver, we could never have gotten to where we are today.”

“Oh,” Midge said with a sincere grin of her own, “you know that you are much more than ‘simply’ a driver ... or even ‘simply’ a lover, Matt. You are a family friend; and,” she continued with a serious expression all of a sudden, “you have been our protector as well; and on more than one occasion, I might add.

“You have used your exceptional driving skills to get David and me out of at least two truly dangerous situations, once here and once in Boston. And you have gone above and beyond the usual call of duty for a chauffeur or simply a contract driver in protecting my reputation ... and David’s; and even the company’s.”

Midge looked as if she might cry with all the emotion of the moment, but Matt simply pulled her into a hug and caressed her naked back lightly.

Matt truly believed himself to be blessed to have landed the job as an executive protection chauffeur five years earlier. The company that had initially hired him, Principal Security Services, had used him during his probationary year for various somewhat simple driving and security assignments.

Having proven his mettle in his initial tasks, the company had assigned Matt to begin work exclusively as a security driver, first for Gavin Riggs briefly, and long term later for David and Midge Burton, under the company’s contract agreement with J.A.M. Aluminum. The company was also contracted for similar services to all of J.A.M. Aluminum’s Junior and Senior VPs and other senior company officers, including the Company President.

Matt had now been with the company for five years total; both when it was its own corporate entity and later, after it was bought out by Mohawk Solutions just in the previous year; but still working exclusively for J.A.M. Aluminum. The buyout had proven to give quite a boost in the pay and benefits for all of the executive protection chauffeurs who still drove exclusively for J.A.M. executives.

And the Company President of Mohawk Solutions, Mr. Olson, had directed an upgrade of the executive protection skills and training of all the drivers. He had insisted, as a condition for their remaining with the company, on enrolling all of the executive protection chauffeurs – they were never referred to now simply as ‘drivers’ – in rigorous courses in tactical driving, combatives, and firearms training and certifications.

Matt’s thoughts drifted a bit and he shook his head slightly as he thought of the ... delicate ... nature of some of his duties as a security driver for any of the J.A.M. executives. But it sure beat constantly having to escape the situation he had managed to find himself in during his previous life.

Drug Enforcement Agency Special Agent Jonathan Matthew Ewing, who had gone by ‘Jack’ in those days, had run afoul of one of the Sinaloa Cartel’s young rising stars, a not-so-favorite nephew, but still a relative of El Jefe, after only serving for three-and-a-half years with the DEA. In this case, Jack had been released from his obligation to the DEA under the cloud of the unlawful use of force allegation lodged against then-DEA Special Agent Jack Ewing.

Jack could not help it if Jorge Ortega’s nuts were not tough enough to take the repeated kicks from Jack’s boots right after Jack had pulled Jorge off the body of the screaming 13-year-old daughter of Jorge’s girlfriend of the moment, whom the thug had been raping, during the course of a raid on an MDMA lab just outside of Flagstaff.

Jorge should have been grateful that he had at least gotten the temporary pleasure of unloading one load of cum into the pre-pubescent teen before his nuts had been permanently mauled and rendered useless by an enraged Jack Ewing – he wasn’t, though. From his cell, Jorge had gotten his Tio Renaldo to put out a contract on the head of one Jonathan Matthew Ewing – literally; as in, ‘Bring me the head... ‘

Given the new identity of Matthew Thomas Winstead, Jack was resettled far from Arizona. After being cleared by the sympathetic U.S. Attorney of the charges against him in his ‘alleged’ mistreatment of Jorge Ortega, Jack ultimately ended up in Middlebury, Vermont.

Jack – now going by the name of ‘Matt Winstead,’ taking the last name of his mom’s second husband, a man he had truly admired – could not believe that he had gone through all of that training at the DEA Training Academy in Quantico, Virginia, followed by a plum assignment not far from his Taos, New Mexico home, just to be dismissed from the service and relocated for his own protection – and, no doubt, simply to take the stress of keeping him safe off the backs of the DEA and the other agencies of the Justice Department and Department of Homeland Security.

After all, they were the ones who might have to deal with distributing benefits to Matt’s very few remaining family members as recipients of solacium compensation for a dead agent if Jorge’s friends were to locate and target him successfully. DOJ had even arranged for his legal name change, so that the Social Security Administration, among other Federal agencies, could keep track of all the earned benefits due to Matt, even in his new life.

Thankfully, one of the additional training periods he had gone through earlier, when he had been new to the DEA, was the Law Enforcement Driver Instructor Training Program. This course was taught at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center at Glynco, located in Brunswick, Georgia, a former Naval Air Station. The old NAS was now used for training law enforcement officers across the spectrum from the DEA to the U.S. Marshals Service.

The professional driving training Jack – now Matt – had received had qualified him well, and had given him some advantages for assignments in his DEA duties, and even now, much later, in his new identity. He had also been pleased and proud back then to be accepted into the Tactical Driver Training course taught by a somewhat low-profile, but highly-recommended private corporation that specialized in certain special driving skills needed by select law enforcement officers at its facility in Grandview, Texas.